Glen Cook - Surrender to the will of the night

The ascendant growled. He insisted on leaving Svavar behind.

Februaren had provoked him deliberately, to keep the shattered souls inside from exerting too much influence.

Gallons of excellent Aelen Kofer beer passed through the principals while the Bastard learned. He had heard various stories about Arlensul and Gedanke but insisted that never had he suspected a personal connection. He had bought into the Chaldarean worldview. That old stuff was rustic folklore and discredited mythology.

“Never?” Heris asked, incredulous.

“Not once. It’s too outrageous. And heretical. And when I was young, every charlatan with any magical talent claimed he was the spawn of Arlensul. The most convincing ended up being murdered by the Church.”

“You didn’t suspect even after you knew you had all your power?” Heris had made herself lead interrogator. She had not downed as much beer as the males. And she was intrigued by Renfrow.

“Why would I? Did Februaren think he was the Bastard?”

“Well, he is. For sure. You should try working for him.”

Februaren wasted no time being amused. “Heris!”

The Bastard said, “I suspected a lot of things. That I might be the get of discredited gods wasn’t one of them. Understand?”

The Ninth Unknown swatted Heris on the behind. “Be quiet. We’re trying to save a world, here.”

“You’d better get ready to do it on crutches.”

“Runs in the family,” Februaren told the others. “Her brother…”

Heris interrupted, “I can save the world by myself, no Bastard necessary. Give me a falcon, a ton of firepowder, and two hundred pounds of silver-plated beads. The damned thing just lies there.” She gave Februaren a glare meant to remind him that her brother had no part in this. Especially considering the other hat the Bastard wore.

Februaren nodded, asked, “When did you last visit?”

“Ah. You could be right. It’s been a while. But that option is there and doesn’t require all this stuff with other worlds, lost gods, and cranky mythical people.”

“Watch your tongue, cutie,” Iron Eyes gurgled.

“There is something to be said for solving a problem by hitting it with a really big hammer. Still, let’s focus on what we’re doing here.”

The Bastard drained a flagon. Heris said, “Right there is proof that he’s a supernatural. I’d be destroyed by what he’s put away already. But he isn’t showing a sign.”

Not quite true, but close.

The Bastard said, “I might be what you claim. I can’t figure out how to make it not true. That being the case, let’s get down to the mystical business and get it done. I have obligations back in the real world. People get into mischief when I’m not there.”

Februaren conceded, “An excellent point. I haven’t checked my own folks in much too long. Svavar…”

“Last chance to get it right, old man. Not Svavar. Asgrimmur, if you have to, but not Svavar.”

The Bastard said, “And I prefer Ferris Renfrow. Bastard has unfortunate connotations.”

Februaren glanced at Korban Iron Eyes. The Aelen Kofer shrugged, shoved another tankard into his beard. “I’m just the labor, Son of Man. One of the fetch and carry folk, the Aelen Kofer.”

Februaren did not argue. That was what Iron Eyes wanted. A squabble for entertainment. He and his tribe had not yet surpassed that constituent of the northern thing. The Ninth Unknown said, “Asgrimmur, you have to take charge, now. We got the… the man you needed. He’s here. You know what you did to seal the Instrumentalities up. You know what needs doing to break them out. So now I’m like Iron Eyes. I’m labor, sitting here waiting for instructions.”

The ascendant produced a rumbling from deep within, like something from a much bigger monster. Which could have been. In the Realm of the Gods forms and attributes often existed beyond the visible.

Ferris Renfrow and the ascendant put their heads together. Renfrow mostly listened. Februaren and Jarneyn bickered about something that made no sense to Heris. She had been brought up in the Eastern Rite of the Chaldarean faith and had become Brothen Episcopal by directive after her rescue by Grade Drocker. The dormant mythos of the east did not much resemble that of the north. Which, she suspected, must have confused its own pantheon often enough.

She asked, “Is there any reason for me to stick around here, Double Great? We’ve done our part. We rooted the Bastard out and brought him to the job site.”

“We did. And there probably isn’t much more you can contribute. But you’re walking through living myth. Aren’t you even a little curious about the Great Sky Fortress and what’s inside?”

“Marginally,” she admitted. “But it isn’t going anywhere, is it? I can come back when you’ve gotten it under control.”

“Which might be in just a few outside hours.”

The ascendant and the Bastard concluded that they needed to go up for a firsthand look at the Great Sky Fortress. They had to see what was possible before they decided what to do. The ascendant admitted, “I haven’t been up farther than the foot of the rainbow bridge. I didn’t want to disturb anything without experts handy to fix whatever I break.”

Iron Eyes said, “Aelen Kofer have crossed the bridge to test it but they haven’t gone inside the fortress.”

Februaren suggested, “Let’s all get some rest. We’ll head up there first thing in the morning.”

That was a joke. Only Jarneyn got it. He awarded the effort a scowl.

It was always high noon in the Realm of the Gods.

Heris did not leave. She climbed the mountain.

That was a great fang rearing up all by itself. The view was spectacular. There was more to the Realm of the Gods than a harbor and an Aelen Kofer town. Or had been, once upon a time.

Spring had come to the nearest forests, sprawling out inland. But color faded with distance, green dwindling quickly to the hue of grass long covered by a rock. Farther still, gray ruled, occasionally tainted by shades of pale brown. The ascendant explained, “There wasn’t enough outside power to quicken the whole world.”

Cloven Februaren wanted to add something but was breathing too hard. The climb was killing him but he would not let the Aelen Kofer put him into one of their goat carts.

Aelen Kofer goats were the size of middle-world elk.

Heris said, “Maybe it’s because the magic is thin but everything that isn’t up close looks artificial. Like it’s all a clever painting. Like if you headed out that way, you’d run into a wall with the rest of the world painted on it.”

Iron Eyes nodded. “You’d be right. In a manner of speaking, though not literally. This world does get less real the farther you get from the Great Sky Fortress. That was always true. It’s just more obvious now. If we shut out the middle world entirely, a few thousand years from now nothing would survive but Aelen Kofer artifacts.”

Another dwarf interjected, “We build for the ages!”

They reached the rainbow bridge.

Jarneyn grinned broadly enough for it to show through his thicket of beard. “Here’s where we sort you out.”

The rainbow bridge was just that. Not a huge arc as after a storm, just a curved piece of the arc’s top spanning a chasm a hundred feet wide and a thousand deep, its bottom hidden by mist. The bridge was a bright tangle of brilliant hues. And transparent.

The mist below stirred, visible through the rainbow. The faces of the chasm were basalt knife edges all the way down. Some boasted the bones of giants fallen during one or another of that race’s periodic assaults on the Old Gods, ages gone.

“That’s a reassuring view,” Heris said.

“A fine moat,” Renfrow observed.