Glen Cook - Working God's Mischief

Iron Eyes said, “I apologize. I really didn’t think you’d get it under control.”

“We’re all set. Agreements are in place. In exchange for freedom the Shining Ones will help Piper. And, once they have their strength back, they’ll help with Kharoulke’s extended family. So. Talk to me about how to get home.”

“It’s pretty basic, my love. Same as when we opened the way for your elderly relative, before. Pack your bags and strap on your sea legs.”

“All right.” Heris started to rise.

“Let me look around first. Just to make sure everything is what it seems.”

“You’re the judge. You get to do whatever you want. That was our deal.”

“Such a mixture of temptation. Letting everything just fade away is huge. The Aelen Kofer would feel that some balance had been achieved. But we did make promises. Though we reserved the right to be flexible concerning our own survival.”

“But not so worried that somebody might recognize you as major bullshitters. Come on, Iron Eyes! I’ve seen you in action. I know what you’re up to.”

“You are a marvel, Heris. I do wish you had been born Aelen Kofer. I’d add you to my harem.”

“Pity, that.” As one of the squat and hairies delivered a solid punch to the crown prince’s left bicep. “But I’d insist on exclusive rights. So, we’re going sailing.”

“Rowing. It’s the only way.”

“A half truth but why cavil about paths through the world of the Aelen Kofer? I want to go home. Though I do have something to do before we go.” She left briskly. Iron Eyes exchanged interrogatory glances with the men around the table, then shrugged.

Heris came back with the soul eggs of the Trickster, Red Hammer, and Zyr. She fumbled them onto a table facing the Shining Ones, indicated which was which. “It’s possible I could restore these three. I’m the only one who can. I’ll hear arguments, for and against. I’ll keep in mind the characters of the individuals.” Not so subtly saying she was disinclined to hear support for the Trickster.

The gods had opinions. They expressed those, loudly.

“Stop!” Heris barked. “I don’t want a debate. We’ll vote. And I claim a vote for myself. First, Lucke. I vote for no mercy. The son of a bitch stays here.”

Six Old Ones agreed. Sprenghul and Fastthal dithered, then reluctantly agreed with the others.

Little patience was accorded them. They were the least of the rescued Instrumentalities.

“All right. Excellent. The Trickster stays.” She indicated the soul egg of the war god. “I have no opinion. I know nothing about him. I’ll vote only if there’s a tie.”

A tiebreaker was not needed. The quiet, no longer well-known Zyr was universally respected. His peers seemed to think he should take over as top deity. He was the eldest and wisest.

“Which leaves Red Hammer, no thinker or planner, which is why he ended up this way. I’ve heard the arguments about him. They don’t make me think that he won’t do something else deadly stupid if I restore him.”

The Old Ones voted. Three were in favor of restoration. Two were against it. Hourli and Hourlr abstained, as did Red Hammer’s stepdaughter, Aldi.

The rest did not care, one way or another.

Heris said, “I’ll stand with the nays. For now. Meaning we have a three way tie. Iron Eyes. Take care of Lucke and Red Hammer. Lucke to be left here. Red Hammer can go home with you and be preserved. And why do I see a gleam in your beady little eyes, all of a sudden?”

“Lucke at the mercy of the Aelen Kofer? When he has done so much evil to us? Priceless.”

“You can’t take revenge on him, Iron Eyes.”

“But…”

“To do that you’d need to restore him. That can’t happen. Avoiding any chance of a comeback is why I want to leave him here. If he leaves this world, sooner or later he’ll come into contact with people like those in the Connec who wanted to resurrect those Old Ones there.”

Iron Eyes gave these Old Ones an ugly look. “So you’ll lay it all off on me?”

“For now. One day when Red Hammer isn’t a danger anymore I’ll bring him back.”

Sheaf protested.

Heris told her, “Not for a while. I don’t want him coming out swinging again. Understand?”

Piper Hecht caught Februaren’s eye. His ancestor seemed astounded by the modern Heris, too.

* * *

A ship lay against the quay in the harbor. The derelict was a permanent fixture. It barely remained afloat. When the magic was strong, though, it became the golden barge of the gods.

Dwarf oarsmen drove the barge across the harbor till it encountered an invisible barrier. From the quay the view to seaward ended in fog. At the barrier, though, a good hard squint let a viewer see the middle world beyond: choppy, dark gray, frigid waters scattered with random chunks of ice calved not far to the north. This corner of the middle world had forsaken summer.

Iron Eyes told the Old Ones, “Brace yourselves. The middle-world magic isn’t strong anymore but what remains will bite sharper than anything you’ve tasted in years. Don’t lose yourselves when it hits you.”

Asgrimmur had assumed a solitary station aft. Hecht asked Heris, “Is he sulking?”

“He’s scared. He doesn’t want to walk the Construct again. Last time he nearly didn’t make it out the other end.”

“I know that terror.” His experiences had been soul-crushing. “Though it wasn’t so bad doing it in a big family glob. Tell him to fly. He’s got wings.”

“Good idea. Though he’d really like to get his human shape back.”

Iron Eyes and his crew worked on the gate to the middle world. Everyone recognized the instant the first gap opened.

The gods gasped. Several shrieked. Faint though it was, the magic tasted delicious.

“Easy!” Iron Eyes bellowed. “Don’t make me knock heads!”

The gods became restless but rationality survived. Iron Eyes went around reminding them that only patience would assure survival. The way had to be opened so the barge could pass through.

Threads of color raced through the harbor water. Golden light sparked on decomposing wood.

“And here we go,” Iron Eyes soon said. “Discipline couldn’t last.”

Several Old Ones abandoned human form to become gray mists that tangled and struggled to get to the magic.

“They’ll spread some terror round the islands where the mer live,” Februaren said.

The hunger overpowered several more. Heris said, “Let’s hope they remember their obligations.”

The opening of the way continued. Iron Eyes proceeded cautiously. Hecht asked, “You expecting trouble?”

“After what Heris did to Kharoulke? With the obvious assistance of the Aelen Kofer? Why would I be careful sliding into his world? His ilk will want to make sure that never happens to them.”

“Can’t stop it now. The knowledge is loose. Not even God Himself can make it go away.”

Blasphemy! God could do anything. There were no limits on Him.

Hecht wanted to believe that. He could not. Not anymore.

“That truth won’t keep the primal Instrumentalities from trying, Commander of the Righteous.”

No doubt.

Asgrimmur came up to check the size of the opening as the last two Old Ones surrendered to their hunger. He raised a wing some, let it relax. “Almost time. Heris. Be careful making your transition.” He hopped onto the rail, balanced precariously, flung himself forward. He came within inches of ending up wet. He did dip each wing tip once before gaining altitude.

Hecht asked Heris, “There something going on between you two?”

“Not yet.”

“Heris!”

“I didn’t mean that the way you’re thinking. Though it wouldn’t be any of your damned business if I did.”