Read The Godling Chronicles (Shadow of the Gods, Book #3) Online

Authors: Brian D. Anderson

Tags: #Fantasy, #series, #epic adventure, #epic, #epic adventure magical adventure mystical adventure, #epic adventure fiction, #epic adventure fantasy, #series adventures

The Godling Chronicles (Shadow of the Gods, Book #3) (16 page)

Gewey let the ship rock him to sleep. His
dreams were fraught with images of battle, blood, and mayhem. They
were so vivid that, at first, he feared the Dark Knight had found
him again, but to his relief, he didn't appear.

Over the next several nights Gewey and
Aaliyah continued their lessons, but Aaliyah thought it better to
do so on deck rather than risk damage to the ship. Though there
were no further accidents, Gewey struggled for the first few days
to control the flow. The more he failed the more frustrated he
became. But then on the fourth night it happened.

One of the navigators was on her way to her
quarters. Her face was tense, her eyes narrow, and she appeared to
be upset. Gewey stopped her.


Are you all right?” he
asked.


I am fine, Shivis Mol,” she
replied.

Her name was Drasalisia. Gewey had seen her
nearly every evening on his way up to the deck. Usually, he was
already involved in his lesson, but this evening Aaliyah allowed
him a little bit of extra sleep. “It's just that you look upset,”
he remarked.

Drasalisia's face relaxed a bit and she
managed a polite smile. “No, Shivis Mol. I am not upset. When you
channel power from the air and water it can leave you...emotional.
It takes effort to calm myself.”


Emotional?” Gewey rubbed the back of
his neck and tilted his head. There were three navigators on board.
All women, and all seemed to him to be as stoic as priests of
Dantenos, God of the Dead. “How do you mean?”


The water is power and mystery.” she
replied. “Difficult to understand, but easy to manipulate. The air
is another matter. It is passion and fire. It burns and flows with
a will of its own. When you control air, it demands that you use
your own passion, or it will defy you.”


You speak as if it were alive,” he
remarked.


Did you ever think it was not?” She
huffed a laugh and walked away.

Gewey thought on this for a time, then sat
next to the waiting bowl of water. He closed his eyes and felt the
flow of the air around him, drawing it near. He could feel it
raging and bursting with power. Then he felt it. The passion. Love,
hate, joy, sorrow, all pressing in together, trying to force its
way out. It was alive. He drew it inside and let his own feelings
surge into the storm. It was in that moment he understood why he
couldn't control it before. In his attempt to control, he had
withheld the part of himself needed for the air to join with him as
one. His heart. In moments all the lessons came together and he
knew exactly what to do, and heated the air around the bowl.


Perfect.” Aaliyah knelt beside him.
“Soon it will become effortless. You will be able to create
wonders.”

Gewey sighed with satisfaction. “It's alive.
I can feel it.”


Of course, it is,” she replied. “The
world is a living thing formed by the Creator. The pulse of the
earth is its heart and body. The air its breath. The water its
blood.” She took his hand and pulled him to his feet. “And when you
are ready, you will see its soul.”


Its soul?” Gewey imagined the world as
an immense creature atop which all people resided. “I'll be able to
see it?”


Oh, yes,” said Aaliyah. “When you have
control enough to master the physical powers of the earth, then you
shall be ready to join with its spirit. For an elf, there is no
greater power. Only a few of us have touched it.”


Have you?” he asked.


Yes,” she replied. “I am one who has
achieved such power. Though I admit, only to a small degree. To
journey through the unseen world, touching the minds of others
wrapped within your own spirit is a gift we all possess. But to
join with the true spirit of creation...it is unlike anything you
can imagine. Once you can do that, you will be
invincible.”

Gewey realized she still held his hand, and
felt his heart race. He quickly withdrew. Aaliyah smiled and let
out a soft, contented laugh. She looked at him for a long moment
then stood over him.


I know what you're trying to do,” said
Gewey, in a half-whisper. “It won't work. I love
Kaylia.”


I have made no secret of my intent,”
she replied. “But I am no trickster. Do not sully our time together
with accusations.” She motioned for him to resume his
lesson.

The rest of the evening, Gewey practiced
channeling the flow. By the end of the night, Aaliyah had taught
him to create a tiny ball of flame above his hand and send it
flying through the air.

From then on, time aboard ship passed
quickly. By the beginning of the second week, Gewey began rising
early to study the ship and its workings. The crew was happy to
teach him, and he found himself looking forward to it as much he
did his lessons with Aaliyah. The crew relished telling him stories
from their homeland, and were eager to learn of his life as well.
Their cheer and good nature reminded him of Linis and his seekers.
It was comforting to know that he did not need to convince them to
be his allies. Though they did not say it, he felt as if they would
do anything he asked of them.

But even though he had immersed himself in
his lessons, Kaylia was never far from his mind. The absence of her
thoughts and emotions was an open wound that felt as if it would
never heal. Several times per day he would try to reach her, but
without success. Each time he did, Aaliyah appeared shortly after
to give him further instruction. Somehow she knew what he was
doing. But worse, she knew what he was feeling, and could say just
the right thing to send his heart pounding and cheeks blushing.
Most of the time this was followed by heart-wrenching guilt. But
she would occasionally catch him off guard, and he would respond
more in the manner of a suitor than a student. This, naturally,
caused him even more guilt and torment.

Then, by midway through the second week, the
cool evenings had become warm and muggy. Aaliyah told him that they
were about a hundred miles from the shores of a large delta city.
Gewey assumed it was Baltria. She explained that they would remain
far from shore to avoid other ships, until they neared their
destination in four days. Gewey marveled that they had traveled so
far in such a short time.

Aaliyah had told him that he would begin
lessons with water on their return journey. Gewey had all but
forgotten why they had come. He had heard stories of the desert
nomads. Fierce and dangerous, they wandered aimlessly, preying on
anyone foolish enough to stray too far from the oasis towns.
Ravenous beasts supposedly, roamed the sands as well. Wolves the
size of a pony, hunting at night, devouring entire caravans,
leaving only the bones to bleach in the scorching sun. He even had
heard stories of great flying lizards that breathed fire, though
these were the things told to children at night. His father would
occasionally delight him with desert tales, and the giant lizard
stories had been his favorite.

The day of their arrival Gewey gathered his
belongings and went on deck to wait for Aaliyah. He had decided to
wear his elf clothing. It was cool and he hoped it would keep the
sun at bay. It was just before nightfall and the air was unusually
mild. He had hoped some of the crew would be joining them – the
idea just the two of them braving the desert sands unsettled his
nerves – but Aaliyah had explained that the crew’s place was aboard
ship. Should they need help, she could certainly call them.

The small boat they arrived in had already
been lowered into the water. The sea was calm and had a pale green
tint, unlike the deep, rich blues he had seen before. The crew took
turns bidding him farewell and good luck. He knew he would miss
their good humor in the days to come, especially if what he had
heard of the desert was true.

Gewey saw Aaliyah approaching from the main
cabin. She was dressed in a pair of loose-fitting tan trousers and
tunic, and she wore a pair of short leather boots. On her belt were
two long daggers. Her hair was tied in a tight braid that danced to
and fro as she moved. One of the crew followed close behind,
carrying her pack.


Are you prepared?” she asked, taking
her pack and slinging it across her shoulders.

Gewey nodded and they climbed down the
ladder, into the boat. As before, Aaliyah channeled the flow, and
the craft sped forward. It wasn't long before Gewey could make out
the dunes just beyond the shoreline. Even from so far away he could
see that they were massive, and tried not to think about how hard
it would be to walk them. Soon they were to the beach. The waves
lapped curiously against the small boat as the craft slid ashore.
They gathered their packs and Gewey checked his sword. There was no
driftwood about, so they pulled the boat to the base of the
dunes.


With luck, the tide will not rise this
high,” said Aaliyah, “or we may be forced to swim back to the
ship.”


What do you—” he started, but saw
Aaliyah's mischievous grin. “You're funny.” He looked up at the
dunes and sighed. “I assume you know where to go from
here.”


I know what direction to take,” she
replied, “but not the exact whereabouts of our destination.” She
stiffened and her hands shot to her daggers.

Gewey instinctively drew in the flow of the
earth. At once he knew what had alarmed her. On the other side of
the dune, he could sense at least fifty humans. He could feel them
moving up the side of the dune and heard swords being drawn and
arrows notched. “Nomads,” he whispered. “My father told me stories
about them.”

Aaliyah drew her daggers. “Whoever they are,
they intend us harm.”

How she could tell that, Gewey had no idea,
but he was not about to question her. He freed his sword and let
the flow rage through him. He could feel it flowing through
Aaliyah, but could not tell if she drew from earth or air.


Pay heed, and do not lose focus,” she
commanded. This brought Gewey back to attention. “When they crest
the dune, follow me.”

Gewey crouched ready to spring, his knuckles
white around his sword. Then, from a hundred yards to their left he
heard the snap and twang of a bowstring, and the thin whistle of
arrows flying. He looked skyward, fearing that a shower of arrows
was about to rain down on them. But they were not the target. A
dozen nomads screamed out in agony as the arrows struck home. Gewey
reached out to find the source, but could sense nothing. Another
volley zipped through the air, and more men fell.


What should we do?” asked
Gewey.


We hope that whoever aids us is not
doing so to keep spoils for themselves,” she replied. “I cannot
tell who or what they are.”

He shook his head. “Nor can I.”

The nomads were scattering like ants, some
dragging the wounded, others in a full run down the dune,
completely abandoning the attack. After a few minutes there was
only the sound of the sea and rustle of the wind.

Aaliyah tapped Gewey's shoulder. “Should we
be attacked, drag the boat to the water.”


What will you do?” he asked. He was
not about to let her fight alone.

She held out her palm and a tiny ball of
flame appeared above it. “I will be showing them that arrows are of
little use.”

It was then a thin figure appeared atop a
dune one-hundred yards to their north. In its right hand it held up
a bow, and in its left a quiver. Gewey could hardly believe his
eyes.


Elves,” he whispered. “Here in the
desert.” For the first time Aaliyah looked surprised and uncertain.
“You didn't know?”


That there were elves here?” She shook
her head slowly. “I did not. But I am grateful to see them. Unless
I am wrong, that is not a gesture of aggression.” She raised her
hand, returning the greeting. “Still, mind what you say. Do not
tell them who I am or, more importantly, who you are. If they are
like the other elves of this land, being human may be enough to
anger them.”

The elf made his way deftly down the dune,
slinging the quiver over his back as he descended. He was dressed
in white trousers and shirt, and high boots made from a material
Gewey had never seen. Like leather in its thickness, but clung like
cloth, and was as pliable. At his side hung a long, curved saber
attached to a thick tan belt. His short cropped, blond hair was
shaved to the skin on either side of his head. His face was
obscured by a thin piece of cloth wrapped just below the tip of his
nose, and around his forehead, but Gewey could see that the skin
around his eyes was pale white.


Have you ever seen an elf like this?”
asked Gewey.

It took a moment for her to answer. “You have
more experience with elves than I. I only know those of my own
land, and none are like this one.”

He strode up with amazing grace and speed,
seemingly unaffected by the deep sand. “How lucky you are,” he
called, when he was a few yards away. “Had we not been aware that
the Soufis were near, you would be slaves...or worse.” He removed
his covering, revealing a broad smile. He looked young, though
Gewey knew that when it came to elves, looks could be deceiving. “I
was not aware elves from the west journeyed to the desert.” He
laughed. “Or that they preferred the company of humans.”

Aaliyah stepped forward. “I am Aaliyah. This
is...Gewey.” It was the first time Gewey had heard her use his
name. He cracked a smile. “If we have trespassed—”

The elf held up his hand. “One cannot
trespass in the desert. They can only step unwisely, as you have
done.” He turned his head and let out a high pitched whistle. “But
fortune smiles on you. Now you are our guests, rather than Soufis
slaves.”

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