Michael Manning - The God-Stone War

“Lemon syllabub,” Marissa replied with a mysterious smile. “You haven’t had it before?”

I shook my head to indicate that I hadn’t.

“Then you are in for a treat,” she said and Penny nodded her head in enthusiastic agreement.

Marc had already started on his, so I saw no reason not to follow suit. Taking spoon in hand, I took a mouthful of the thick, creamy substance and hoped for the best. I was not disappointed. “Sweet mother!” I exclaimed, forgetting my manners for a second. The taste was light and airy, a combination of sweetness with a hint of lemon and the smooth texture of whipped cream. The aftertaste left a sweet tang in my mouth that reminded me of a fine wine. “That is simply incredible! What is it made with?”

Marissa smiled. “I will keep the preparation a secret for your wife’s sake, but I am sure your taste buds can identify most of the ingredients.”

“Welcome to the conspiracy, Penny,” said Marcus. She grinned and winked at him.

“I take it you’ve had this before?” I queried him.

He nodded. “Yes… and ever since that day, my sweet lady has held it over my head. I fear I have become her slave now for fear of having the dessert plate withheld.”

I plied Marissa with compliments for several minutes, but she steadfastly refused to divulge her secrets. Eventually I gave up and the conversation finally turned to more serious matters. “So, what did you have to tell me about? Your note hinted that you had found something important,” I asked.

Marc’s face grew serious. Rising from the table he gestured toward the parlor. “Let’s go sit down where we’ll be more comfortable. I’ll go get what I wanted to show you. Marissa, would you mind pouring some after dinner drinks for everyone?”

He headed upstairs to the Illeniel… to my… library. Part of the reason I had let him set up house here with Marissa, was because I wanted someone to keep my city home in more livable condition, but the more important reason was because he and Marissa were actively researching the history of both wizards and the gods.

As we moved into the parlor, I motioned for Marissa to sit down. I knew very well where the liquor was stored already. “Let me do that Marissa. Take a seat and relax, the meal you made was wonderful. Let me serve you for a change.” She and Penny found seats, and I poured a sweet sherry into four glasses, one for each of us. Marc returned just as I was sitting down myself. I handed him the last glass, and he held out a large wooden case toward me.

“That’s what I wanted to show you.”

I took a slow sip before setting my glass aside and putting the box in my lap. “Where did you find this?” I asked absently.

Marissa spoke first, “It was in the archives.”

“The Karenthian Archives?” Technically the archives belonged to all four churches of the shining gods, but the priests of Karenth the Just were primarily responsible for maintaining them, hence the name. After the battle with Celior, I had acted as a secret stand-in for King Edward for several months, and during that time I had banned the churches from the capital. The archives had been confiscated and the priests forced to relocate. In actuality that meant the archives had stayed where they were… I had just forced the priests to move.

Once James had taken over, he had kept the ban in place, though he had acted to repair some diplomatic ties with the three remaining functional churches. It was one of many things we had disagreed upon, but since he was king and I was not, I learned to live with the difference in opinion.

Marissa had been a church scholar, and a priestess of Celior, which was how Marc had originally met her. Since that time, he had somehow convinced her to change her views regarding the deities that had previously ruled her life. Well, I assumed he had anyway… since she was now married to the most well-known heretic in the kingdom.

“Yes. I stumbled across it locked in a chest in one of the oldest parts of the archives. I don’t think it has seen the light of day since the Sundering,” she answered.

“That’s rather odd,” I pronounced, “since it bears the Illeniel family crest on the case.” Looking closer, I could see that it had also at one time been warded, though the runes had long ago lost their power.

“From what I could gather, it was stolen from your family. Probably during the chaos immediately after Balinthor’s defeat,” she added.

“Thank you for returning it then,” I told her, perhaps unnecessarily.

Marc broke in, “Don’t thank us until you’ve had a look. I think it may prove to be useless to you.”

Penny interrupted, “Do you know what’s inside?” She was leaning over from my left side to get a closer look at the box herself.

Marissa shook her head negatively as Marc answered, “We examined it, but it’s written in a language neither of us has ever seen.” That was actually quite an admission coming from him. My friend hid it well, but his education had been very good. I hadn’t thought there were any languages he wouldn’t at least recognize, aside from perhaps Lycian. His wife was even better educated in that regard. Much of her adult life had been spent deciphering and translating older tomes into more modern language.

“That’s discouraging,” I said, and then I pulled the lid away to reveal the interior. Inside was a large square rectangle of some hard black material.

It appeared to be about eight inches wide and perhaps twelve in length, but it was less than half an inch in thickness. The edges were decorated with intricate carvings of leafy vines, or perhaps trees. The rest was covered in delicate patterns that reminded me of letters, but it was difficult to be sure, for they were all connected. I stared at it in shock, and for a moment it felt as though the universe itself stood still beside me, looking over my shoulder.

In my mind’s eye, I could see an older man holding it in his hands as he spoke to me. “This is the accord, my son, the binding trust between our race and the She’Har. You must keep it safe.” The man was my father, that I was sure of… though he did not resemble the paintings I had seen of Tyndal, nor did he look like Royce. As I watched, the man began to change, gradually transforming into a colossal tree, the size of which I had never seen before.

“What do you think it is made of?” came Penny’s voice at my side, and for a second I felt as though I had splintered into two separate people. A whirl of images and knowledge passed through my mind, as though a door had opened letting another life spill into my head. I was caught up in a sensation of drowning, as the visions threatened to overwhelm me, and then with strength I had not known I possessed, I somehow closed the door within.

“It is made of a rare type of wood, known as Eilen’tyral , which means ‘heart wood’ in their language,” I said quietly.

Marc looked at me with interest, “You’re familiar with it then?”

“Whose language?” added Penny.

“The She’Har.”

That got everyone’s attention. “How do you know that?” said Penny.

“I’m not sure,” I said hesitantly. “It feels like a memory. I can remember someone giving me this tablet.” I closed the box, protecting it again from the outside world.

“Wait, don’t you want to read it?” said Marc.

I shook my head, “I already know what it says.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” my dear wife added. I had to agree with her.

“I don’t understand it either. I just know. I have these… I guess they’re memories… of receiving the tablet, of reading it, and I think there’s more,” I stated uncertainly. Seeing it had awakened something within me, as though I had once been another person, a person with an entirely different set of memories.