60: RESURRECTING THE GODS
(Grizzst’s story)
It took three weeks to evacuate all the vané who lived near the Mother of Trees. During that time, Grizzst made preparations. Mithraill rarely visited, which suited both of them, but Khaevatz stopped by daily. She asked a lot of questions: about the process, how Grizzst had developed it, and still more about Grizzst himself.
He found himself entertaining the monarch while setting up his equipment. Even as high up as they were, sunlight couldn’t reach them; they’d set up special lights strung among the branches, brilliant glowing flowers and shining leaves that gave off a perfume of ylang-ylang and sandalwood.
It was blazingly hot.
“There’s not much to know about me,” Grizzst insisted as he checked crystals. “I’m not that interesting.”
Khaevatz smirked. She lounged on a couch carved to look like a honeycomb. “You’ve spent the last fifteen hundred years trying to raise seven beings of godlike power from the dead. That’s at least a little interesting.”
Grizzst rolled his eyes. It’s not that he didn’t believe her, but, well—he didn’t believe her. He was at a loss to understand why someone like Khaevatz would ever find him “interesting.”
“Godlike?” Grizzst said. “Just say gods.”
“They’re not gods.”
“You might as well call them gods.” Grizzst laughed. “Looking forward to seeing the looks on their faces when they discover their religions.”
The Manol vané sovereign gave him a slow blink. “Religions? They don’t have religions.”
“Now that’s where you’re wrong.” Grizzst moved around the final components. Satisfied, he turned back to Khaevatz. “It didn’t take long for the voras to … devolve. I mean, we lost so much knowledge when Karolaen was destroyed, and that was after what we lost evacuating Nythrawl. The god-kings—”
“We are well familiar with them. The god-kings are why we left the Kirpis,” Khaevatz said. “The other vané would not see the danger. Just because most voras are short-lived now does not make them less dangerous. I believe underestimating the danger shall be the Kirpis’s doom.”1
“Yeah, maybe so,” Grizzst agreed. “Anyway, my point is that people turned to gods, religions, cults almost immediately. Anyone who would protect them.”
“Yes, I see that, but what does that have to do with the Guardians?”
“Oh, I founded religions for all of them.”
Khaevatz stared. “You … you what? What?” She sat up from the couch.
Grizzst enjoyed seeing her completely lose that otherwise impenetrable composure. Not that he had anything against Khaevatz—just the opposite, really—but no comedian ever asked for a better straight man.
He grinned at her. “Among humans, gods are where the power is, so if I succeed in bringing them back, it’ll be a lot easier if they come back to a waiting power base. So I started religions for everyone. Did it a while ago too, so that avalanche is out of my hands now. Some of them are becoming pretty darn popular.”
“So my mother, Khaemezra…?”
“Thaena,” Grizzst said.
“Thaena—Death? You named her Death?”
“Sure,” Grizzst said. “I figured it was best to keep it simple. So we have Thaena, Taja, Tya, Khored, Ompher, Argas, and Galava.”
“Tya. Magic? Now I can see why you would describe my mother as Thaena, but there was never a guardian of ‘magic.’”
“Oh, that’s Ir’amar.”2
Khaevatz blinked. “But that is … wrong. Irisia was tied to ithon.”
Grizzst shrugged. “Sure, but that’s a little difficult for most people to wrap their heads around, so … what does a mastery of self-possession, control, willpower, and agency bring? Magic. Just like I know Mithros isn’t tied to actual destruction, he’s tied to entropy. But again—keep it simple.”
“And Eshimavari is … Taja?”
“Exactly. Huge with gamblers.”
Khaevatz’s mouth dropped open. “But she’s still dead. And even if she wasn’t, it does not work like that! The Guardians cannot give other people any advantages. For that matter, neither can the god-kings.”
“I know that. You know that. Everyone else?” Grizzst shrugged. “They don’t. Somebody prays to Taja for luck and has a good run at dice … Must have been Taja, right? And it’s like that for most of them. And hey, once we bring back the Guardians, who knows? Maybe they’ll even answer a prayer or two.”
Khaevatz lay back down on the couch. After a few minutes, she began to chuckle. Then she laughed outright. “You are right. It will be priceless to see my mother’s expression.”
“That’s the spirit,” Grizzst told her. “And with any luck, you’ll do so before dinner.”
“Excuse me?” Khaevatz sat up again.
Grizzst gestured toward the equipment. “We’re ready.”
Khaevatz wouldn’t leave. Even though Grizzst had warned she’d be in great danger if anything went wrong. She ordered everyone else out.
“If you’re staying, you might as well help.” Grizzst pointed toward a pale, transparent crystal on a table. “Toss me that, would you?”
“What is it?” She examined the stone. The crystal looked like pale smoky quartz, uncut and delicate. Khaevatz walked it over and set it in his hand. “Looks fragile.”
He snorted. “It’s not. This is Grimward. It’s what I like to call a Cornerstone. I’ve been collecting them since Karolaen. Almost have the whole set. It’s quite a bag of tricks.”
“And what does Grimward do?”
Grizzst tipped the stone into a setting he’d created. “Today? It resurrects a goddess.”
He watched as the stone glowed, trigging a succession of crystals that lit up brighter than the lamps Khaevatz had provided. That energy fed into the tree itself.
They both waited.
“Are we going to know if—”
“Shh.” Grizzst held up a finger.
Nothing happened.
The leaves rustled, insects buzzed about flowers that somehow thrived in the darkness. Then a glow spread out from across the Mother of Trees, a phosphorescence covering the bark and gilding over each leaf. The glow pulsed and then sank into the wood itself.
“Galava?” Grizzst called out. “Galava, if you can hear me—”
“She can’t,” Khaevatz said. “That’s not how trees work. They don’t have ears. But there’s another way.” She walked to the platform’s edge and placed both hands against the bark. “We learned how to do this a long time ago.”
“Brilliant. Well, while you’re … doing whatever you’re doing … tell her we need her to make a body for herself and transfer into it.”
Khaevatz nodded to him and then returned her attention to the tree. She concentrated. Nothing happened.
Khaevatz looked confused. “Wait, but—”
Grizzst sighed and plucked Grimward from its cradle. “It was too much to hope this time would be any different. But on the bright side, at least it didn’t explode…”
A soft glow coalesced from the tree leaves and settled down onto the platform, forming a person-sized shape. That shape slowly solidified, became cohesive.
A woman formed, small and plump with blue-green skin, teal feather fins flowing down her head.
Oh right, Grizzst thought. Galava3 had been voramer.
After a few minutes, the body became solid. Then it stopped glowing.
Galava opened her eyes.
She hadn’t been wearing clothes at first, but the flowers reached up to cover her, the leaves wrapped around her, creating a living gown of flora.
Galava’s eyes focused on them. “What … Where…?”
“Galava,” Grizzst said, “welcome back.”
The Goddess of Life began weeping.