3212 A.G. (After Gods), the Wells, planet An’kuruku.
Elisa awoke clutching her stomach. Her muscles ached. Her bones felt like they were grating on each other. Breathing was difficult. The beating Tanzeil’s men had administered left her sore, immobile. Self-preservation instincts cried for her to give up, to abandon the notion of fighting for her freedom. She couldn’t. Ah’muf depended on her. He was still weak from the scorpion attack, and she suspected Tanzeil was keeping him that way to keep Elisa in line. So far, it was working.
She hadn’t seen Ah’muf since being herded onto the skiffs the night before. She didn’t even know if he was still alive. The uncertainty ate at her. There’d been plenty of times when she’d found herself helpless, most memorably when she was a prisoner of the Ugri. But even then, there had been the slightest chance of escape. Elisa couldn’t find hope in any aspect of her current situation.
She forced herself into a sitting position and scanned her immediate surroundings. Tanzeil was keeping her in a large cage, probably used for large animals, at the far edge of the camp. A few of the more curious had come by to see the redhead personally. Even fewer had ever seen a woman with fire-colored hair. The absurdity of it was insulting. She was being treated like a zoo animal, a beast imprisoned for the amusement and enjoyment of the masses. Fresh anger blossomed in her heart. She vowed, for the thousandth time, to kill Tanzeil before leaving An’kuruku.
She made an aborted attempt at stretching before the lances of pain sped through her torso. Lost in the haze of her own agony, Elisa barely recognized the screams and cries of battle coming from the opposite side of the camp. The Wells were under attack. She judged this was the way things were, basing her opinions off the way Tanzeil and his tribe had brutalized their path into the camp. Conflict seemed to be a large part of life in the deep deserts. Elisa opened her eyes and focused on the unmistakable clash of steel on flesh.
The night had grown cold, but she was too engrossed in discovering the source of the conflict to shiver. New hope sprung to life. Her chance at escaping had risen sharply. If only she wasn’t all but crippled with pain. Elisa scowled. Gritting her teeth, she half-dragged herself across the cage to the lock. The bars were far enough apart that she could slip through, but, as she’d painfully learned earlier, they were also electrified by some strange, blue power. The fingertips on her left hand were blackened as proof.
The screams were getting closer. Elisa looked up, hope twinkling in her eyes. A tent collapsed. Flames burst up from another. A trio of armed guards fled past her cage. Fear dominated their faces. One dropped his sword, too far away to be of any use to her.
Elisa thought she caught a flicker of movement. A shadow stalking through the darkness. She finally shivered. Had death come to claim what was long overdue? The weakness struggling to maintain control over her soul begged for it. She was tired, physically and emotionally. Life had been unkind through most of her experiences. Sweet release offered to relieve her of the endless cycle of torment hounding her.
A loud crash, like thunder booming across the camp, made her jump. The broken remains of one of Tanzeil’s men flopped through the sky before crashing into the bars of her cage. Sparks exploded, singeing her face and hair. She shrieked and rolled back. The guard gave a strangled gasp before the blue power disintegrated the flesh from his bones. What remained of his skeleton clattered down in a random heap. Elisa stared, suddenly very afraid.
A large shadow detached from the surroundings. Elisa looked up at a figure twice as tall as she was. No! That old horror awakened, terrifying her. The godling had come back to finish what had begun five decades ago. Dressed in black, the figure was nearly indistinguishable from the night. Elisa sat helpless as the figure stopped on the opposite side of the bars.
“I have seen you before.”
It took a moment before Elisa realized the voice belonged to a woman. A woman? That’s not possible. I’ve seen the Three, and they are all men. Who or what is this? “What do you want with me?”
“They were going to kill you.”
That crippling fear subsided briefly. She was more terrified of the concept that a person could be so large and not be trying to kill her. “People do that, from time to time. Who are you?”
Paradise Tear knelt, respectfully. “It is true. Your hair is the color of flames. I did not think to find one like you in the desert.”
“You’re one of them, aren’t you?” Elisa asked suddenly. The desire to know agonized her.
Paradise cocked her head. “One of whom?”
“The gods.” Elisa’s voice fell off to a whisper.
“I am not a god. Can you walk?”
Elisa reeled from shock. Not a god? How many other giants that we don’t know about roam the universe? She found the thought appalling. “Show me your face.”
“Is that important?”
“I’m not going anywhere with you until I see your face,” Elisa said defiantly.
Paradise Tear slowly removed the thin fabric veiling her face. The realization that the human woman crouching before her had seen others of her kind ignited a spark of fear. The thought that Amongeratix might already be looking for her was frightening beyond words. How many lifetimes had it been since she’d first gone on the run? She’d lost track. All she knew was that he mustn’t find her. The alternative would destroy the universe.
Elisa gasped as she looked on the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen. The classic beauty was etched upon a million statues, sung by bards, and written in the prose of countless poets. Strong jaw lines ran up to high cheekbones. The eyes, an immaculate blue, were soft and perfectly rounded. There wasn’t a blemish on her perfect skin. The slope of her nose accented the fullness of her lips. Elisa hadn’t thought such a being could actually exist.
“Satisfied?” Paradise asked.
A nod. “Why do you want me?”
“I don’t know. All I know is that you must not die. I need you to come with me. We must leave now if you want to live.”
Elisa shook her head. “I’m not leaving without Ah’muf.”
Paradise paused before remembering the rest of her vision. “You are referring to the local man who traveled with you?”
“Yes. Ah’muf is my closest friend, only I don’t know where he is being kept.”
A crisp sigh followed a furtive glance in each direction, but Paradise rose stiffly. “I will find him, but you must be ready to move.”
“The cage is energized,” Elisa offered.
Paradise brandished her short sword and hacked through the locking mechanism on the door. “I shall return shortly.”
She dashed off, leaving Elisa more confused than before.
She had no way of knowing just how much time had passed before the tall blonde stranger returned carrying a sedated Ah’muf. Elisa almost cried out in joy. Still weak, she found it nearly impossible to stand.
“We must leave,” Paradise restated.
Elisa nodded. “I can barely walk. They beat me badly.”
Paradise Tear entered the cage and gently lifted her off the ground. She winced at the sharpness digging into her side but kept her pain silent. One body over each shoulder, Paradise moved through the camp surrounding the Wells like a giant scorpion. Elisa wasn’t sure, but she could have sworn she looked down on Tanzeil’s broken and bloodied corpse before passing out.
The sharp light hurt her eyes, forcing her to bury her head beneath the down-filled pillows. Elisa tried going back to sleep but found the act pointless, despite the luxuriousness of the bed. The sheets were smooth as silk, finer than anything she had ever slept on. The pillows were almost too soft, and the blankets left her feeling soothed, relaxed, and like a queen. She yawned and stretched, surprised that the pain was gone. Her eyes narrowed to slits. The last time she was shown kindness had turned out to be less than expected. Suspicious, Elisa sat up and looked for any sort of weapon.
The double doors opened, and a pair of women dressed in pure white robes glided in with welcoming smiles. Both had dark hair and golden bronze skin, the product of growing up in the deep desert. One had a porcelain basket full of fruit and nuts. The other carried a crystal pitcher of water. They set the gifts down and patiently folded their hands across their waists.
“Do you require anything else?” the taller one asked.
“Where am I?” Elisa asked after they finished.
“You are safe. This is the abbey of the Wells.”
Recognition flashed. “The violence…”
“Was regrettable, but it has passed. You must be very special for her to come for you personally.”
“Who is she?”
The woman lowered her eyes meekly. “It would be best if she were to tell you.”
Elisa frowned. She felt confused. These women weren’t afraid of the mysterious woman but weren’t willing to talk openly about her. Her mind was still too clouded — from painkillers, she concluded — to grasp the implications.
“Will I be seeing her soon?” Elisa asked, the need to know compelling her.
“Yes, mistress. She shall arrive shortly.”
The women bowed again and excused themselves, leaving Elisa alone and more confused than she had been. Never one for games, Elisa preferred to tackle matters head on without guile or subterfuge. She still felt imprisoned, despite the simple opulence of her surroundings. Fearing she’d traded one jail for another, Elisa looked for a way out.
A new pain speared through her stomach. She didn’t remember the last time she’d eaten. The fruit was fresh, grown and picked from the abbey’s gardens. Elisa slid from the sheets and padded across the marble floor. What sort of monk lives in such splendor? There are thousands mired in poverty, terrorized by nomadic clans of men barely more advanced than barbarians, and these monks live like gods. She paused. Gods. Of course. The tall woman must be one of them. But how? The gods were asleep, trapped in suspended animation, all but forgotten relics. So why is this one here, and awake?
Elisa ate slowly, lest she make herself sick. The nuts were already shelled and had a sweet taste unlike anything she’d eaten before. She made fast work of the small container of dates despite never having acquired a taste for them. Hunger forced her hands. The random assortment of exotic fruits was much like those found in every street market and bazaar in Tenemenah. The water was surprisingly cool, despite having been sitting out for close to an hour. The desert heat was already beating down on the abbey, promising to get worse before dusk.
She’d finished eating before it dawned on her that she was naked. The hanging wall mirror was not kind. Elisa stared at her painfully thin body with regret. The lower half of her ribcage protruded sickly into her skin. She was still too pale, her shoulders covered with freckles. Blue veins made her self-conscious. Her hair was stringy, dried out. It had been years since she had allowed herself to be pampered. She turned from the mirror with a heavy sigh and slid into the thin robe hanging off the back of the nearest chair. The doors opened a moment later.
Her natural reaction was to draw back and ready for an attack. The giant woman flowed into the room with natural grace that left Elisa feeling jealous. She was everything a proper lady was supposed to be, not the wastrel Elisa had allowed herself to become.
“Good, you’ve eaten,” the blond said with a genuine smile.
Elisa merely nodded, still too stunned to think clearly.
“Where are you from?”
“Very far away, from the planet Crimeat,” she replied.
The blond thought for a moment. “I am not familiar with it. You might have guessed that I am not from here, either. Funny, isn’t it? How life moves in seemingly random directions without our concern. Faith is required if we are to find any positive meaning in life.”
“You still haven’t answered my question,” Elisa said boldly.
The warmth in the smile spread through Elisa unexpectedly. “Which question? I was distracted last night.”
“Who are you?”
The blond nodded crisply. “Ah, yes, that. Truthfully, I wouldn’t know where to begin. Much of what I knew, the core of who I am, has been lost.”
“You could start with a name.”
“My name is Paradise.”
Elisa’s eyes flew open. It couldn’t be. Nervously, she asked, “Paradise Tear?”
Paradise smiled again. “Yes, that’s right. How did you know?”
Exhaling sharply, Elisa sat down to calm her shaking knees and began the long, confusing explanation.
Paradise paced the length of the room, weaving around the rows of marble columns stretching the full height of the ceiling. Ten feet tall, she still had room to spare without ducking or worrying about hitting her head. Elisa’s story had been devastating to hear. Much of what she’d once believed had unraveled. The Three, as humanity named them, were neither the monsters nor the saviors mankind believed. Paradise knew the truth, that the brothers were victims of their own greed. It wasn’t the first time people had grown corrupted. She blamed it on their status as sons of the king. Not enough people were willing to tell them no.
“It’s been centuries since I last saw any of them. That time seems so distant, almost a negligible memory. The war changed things,” Paradise said suddenly.
“It changed more than just your world. I grew up without a family because of one of your kind,” Elisa accused. She wanted to hate Paradise but found she couldn’t. Years of pent-up rage, misunderstanding and hatred suddenly dissipated in the presence of the stunning woman sitting opposite her.
Paradise wiped a tear away. “I cannot take responsibility for his actions, but I will promise my cooperation and support to you until the coming confluence is past. The man you came here with, not Ah’muf but the other, the haggard one, he is not far.”
“Mollock Bolle?”
“Yes. He has grown into an important figure, or so I gather from people passing through. They say he stands on the shores of the Bo and preaches against your gods. My father has gone to learn the truth in this. My heart tells me he is part of something larger than any here comprehend.”
“Father? I thought all of your kind were gone,” Elisa asked.
She offered a sad smile in return. “He is the closest thing I have to a father. People in the Deeves used to seek his wisdom and advice. Now they have abandoned him for the depredations of Mollock Bolle and his cult. War is much closer than any of them think.”
“Can we stop it?”
“I don’t know.”
Elisa shook her head, hoping to clear her thoughts. The cycle of events begun on Crimeat were restarting here. She tried to think why the Bloody Man had insisted on sending her to An’kuruku. There had to be more than just finding Paradise Tear. One being didn’t have the ability to shape or change the future. For the last two years, she’d believed she was searching for a jewel or a weapon to use against the Three. There was no way she’d ever be prepared to accept she was searching for a woman.
Instead of answers, Elisa had found twice as many questions. Nothing made sense. The Three weren’t here and, more than likely, were not coming. So why send her on a hunt to find Paradise? Worse, what was Mollock Bolle doing? He’d been named the Prophet, in the same manner as she had been named the Paladin. Clearly, the Bloody Man had intended her to be a protector, but, from what she’d witnessed last night, Paradise needed no protecting. If anything, it was the other way around.
Prophet. Mollock was certainly living up to the name if what she’d just been told was true. Elisa was at a loss. She’d distanced herself from him purposefully, though for her own reasons. She was still fighting the idea of being a servant of the Three, much less the proposed champion Sorrow claimed. The direction of her life had been altered irredeemably because of the monsters. There was no way she would willing serve their cause.
“Did you hear me?” Paradise asked.
Elisa looked up slowly, her eyes slightly glazed. “I’m sorry. I drifted off.”
“I understand.” And she truly did. Learning the universe was not what you had made it out to be was daunting, frightening. Paradise found herself in a mirrored position. The only difference was that she was being hunted for an old sin. “I said that it would be best if I were to take you to the Bone Father. He will be able to help you in your quest.”
Elisa wasn’t sure how anyone with “bone” in his title could possibly be a positive influence, but she was running out of options. A nagging feeling in the back of her mind told her to go to the Bo to confront Mollock and his cult. The answers to everything tormenting her for the past two years were there, nestling in the ruins of an age gone by and dripping the manipulations of words only Mollock understood. Elisa sighed. She hated having the ability to choose for herself stripped away.
“There is more you should know,” Paradise added quietly. “An army has been raised and is preparing to march against the peasants gathered to hear the Prophet.”
“An army? What army? There isn’t that much military strength on An’kuruku,” Elisa replied, confused.
“They are called the Prefects.”
“Prefects?” Elisa was shocked. The very reason she had dragged Ah’muf out of his safe tavern and to the edge of death. Every decision she’d made since leaving Crimeat had turned out to be wrong. Now, the man she had genuine feelings for, the one man she had ever come close to being in love with, was about to die in the very war she’d struggled to avoid. Paladin indeed. She was a poor excuse for a champion, and she knew it.
Paradise cocked her head, studying the look in Elisa’s eyes. She instantly grew concerned. “Don’t lose yourself in doubts, Elisa. You have a great destiny before you. All it takes is for you to rise above yourself and become the woman you were meant to be. A great many lives depend on your next decision.”
No pressure there. How’d she like it if I dropped a bomb on her dreams? Elisa struggled to swallow the rising anger, a bitter taste worse than bile. “I want to see Ah’muf first.”
“He will not be able to travel with us. Moving him would likely kill him, though.” Paradise took a tentative seat at the end of the bed and watched, helplessly, at the hurt etched on Elisa’s face. “I’m sorry, Elisa.”
“I want to see him.”
Paradise rose. “Very well. I will await you in the hallway.”
She left Elisa with too much to think about while she dressed. The need to see her friend was overwhelming, and Elisa hurried into her clothes and out the door.
“Farisi, I did not think to see you again,” Ah’muf said as he struggled to sit up.
The pair of monks at his bedside gently forced him back down, one shaking her head in admonishment.
Elisa smiled grimly and sat beside him. “I found her, Ah’muf. I found Paradise Tear.” Tears clogged the corners of her eyes, threatening to stream down her face.
Ah’muf, his ribs heavily bandaged, struggled to smile. “That is wondrous news! Where is it?” he asked.
She noticed half of his moustache had been removed, whether from his imprisonment by Tanzeil’s men or the abbey’s surgeon, she didn’t know. “It is a she, not an it. She is waiting in the hallway. In fact, she’s the one who rescued us. Without her, we’d already be sold as slaves.” Or worse.
“What of Tanzeil?”
Finally, news she could deliver happily. “Dead, along with all of his tribe. They were not nice people.”
Ah’muf nodded, painfully. “Such is the way of the desert. The sands give, and the sands take away. They got what they deserved.”
He gasped suddenly and shifted his weight. The pain killers were wearing off, leaving him in nearly unbearable agony. Poison continued to course through him despite the best efforts of the surgeons. Ordinary scorpion venom was treatable, but Tanzeil had concocted a particularly dangerous poison.
Elisa sniffed back a sob. “Ah’muf, I need to leave for a while. There is a task I must do, but I will be back. I promise.”
“Let me get my things, and I shall travel with you,” he wheezed between strained breathes. Fresh waves of pain twisted his face.
“No, I need you to rest here. Get your strength back. When I return, I will take you away, perhaps back to my world,” she smiled.
His eyes twinkled, slightly. “I would like that. I’ve never been off An’kuruku.”
She leaned forward and kissed his lips. The impulse of it shocked them both, her the most. Elisa closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of her lips meshing into his. The feeling was delicious. Warmth spread through her. She felt lightheaded, like her breath was being taken away. Her spirit lifted, leaving her with an intense sensation of euphoria. It was unlike anything she’d ever felt. And it ended much too quickly.
“I promise I’ll be back for you,” she whispered.
He smiled before closing his eyes. Elisa left quickly, lest temptation kept her at the Wells. Paradise Tear already had a skiff waiting. It was similar to the massive barge-like ones Tanzeil had used but much smaller and with slightly better accommodations. A pair of cushioned seats filled the small cabin. The back deck stretched out twenty feet or so, plenty of room to hold supplies and equipment. Paradise had the foresight to load enough supplies and weapons to keep the pair in the field for a few weeks. Elisa rushed past her and took the empty seat. Obvious questions went unasked. Sometimes it was best not to know.
The skiff raced west. The uneven desert terrain gradually gave way to scrub brush and more solid ground. Golden peaks of sand transformed into dirt. The unfamiliar aroma of the ocean met them, and Paradise grew giddy. Elisa leaned her head back and smelled deeply. She’d never seen the ocean before. The promise of the Bo, the mystical body of life-giving water the people of the Deeves had flocked to for countless centuries, offered her redemption. She felt the weight slip from her shoulders.
Her thoughts turned more serious. Mollock Bolle awaited what promised to be a less than pleasant reunion. Elisa hadn’t anticipated crossing a growing cult and an army of zealous Prefects. Life continued to deal from the bottom of the deck, leaving her with doubts about her true purpose. Even the hardest-pressed champions from all the stories had those rare shining moments where the stars aligned to help them succeed against impossible odds. Elisa wondered when it was going to be her turn.
The fetid smell of downtrodden humanity soon drowned out the freshness of the Bo. Unwelcome noise broke the spell of the ocean, leaving her with a sour feeling. They’d traveled through the night to arrive at the shore of the Bo and the filth that had taken over. It never failed to amaze Elisa how poorly her kind took care of themselves when thrown together in large numbers with little wealth or supplies. Thousands had to be assembled, most of the population of the Deeves. Great sadness welled inside her. No one deserved to live like this.
“How?” she asked, more to herself than Paradise.
Paradise Tear shook her head sadly. “They have forgotten what it means to be free. So twisted are Mollock Bolle’s words that he has stolen from them the one thing that makes humanity special.”
“What’s that?”
She looked Elisa deeply in the eyes. “Free will.”
Elisa had no reply. Again, more questions came to life. What misery had befallen Paradise to dim her view of life?
Paradise slowed the skiff as they eased into more densely populated areas. Heads turned their way. Strangers were welcome, but only if they had come to praise the Prophet. Elisa subconsciously reached for her sidearm.
“We won’t need that, not yet,” Paradise told her. “I’m going to pull off to the side once we get past the main village and go look for the Bone Father.”
“Leaving me to guard the skiff?” Elisa asked.
“Yes. These are genuinely not bad people; they have simply fallen under the sway of man-ipulative words delivered by a gifted speaker. We must take great care not to harm them.”
Elisa grimaced with doubt. “Unless they don’t give me a choice.”
Paradise smiled, shaking her head slightly. “You will be fine, Elisa. I’ll return as soon as I find him.”
Elisa left the obvious reply unspoken: hurry back. She pulled the skiff to a stop and settled in for what she assumed was going to be a long wait. After all, nothing went smoothly when the promise of violence loomed on the horizon.
Althas Pey watched with grim satisfaction as the army of the Prefecture marched out of Tenemenah. Most of them would not return. They lacked proper training and even the most basic military equipment. Not that they’d be a great loss. Althas saw this campaign as a cleansing. The wastes and unwanted, on both sides of the conflict, were about to be purged, opening the way for the more eager and deserving to rise through the ranks. He had no issues with sacrificing the great majority so long as he accomplished the tasks set to him by Lezorsu.
Momentary thoughts of returning triumphantly and removing the head Prefect by force danced through his head. Althas Pey was a hungry man, always searching for the next position, the next challenge. Removing Lezorsu would be troublesome, but he’d have more than enough support from the Prefects he was taking to the Deeves. The idea was tempting, but now was not the right time. Soon, he promised himself. Soon.
Lezorsu stalked out of the command building, his face a mirror of intensity. His eyes were so focused they nearly eclipsed the rest of his face. He stopped beside Althas. “It is time.”
“The last units are boarding the sky skiffs now. We should be at the shores of the Bo in less than a week,” Althas told him.
Lezorsu looked up at the taller man. “Break them, Althas. Bring me back an ocean of blood. This rebellion should never have happened.”
“We’ve had this discussion, Lezorsu. My men are prepared to act accordingly. I will send word back when we make contact.”
Lezorsu, named Doomspell by the masses, gave a wicked leer. “No need. I will be deploying with the forward command element. I want to witness their final moments for myself. This will be a moment long remembered.”
Althas Pey clicked his tongue gently. This was most unexpected and unorthodox. He shifted his stance uncomfortably and waited for the senior Prefect to continue.
“Bring glory back to the Prefecture, Althas. Succeed, and I will have statues erected in your honor.”
Althas Pey saluted crisply, without feeling, and watched his superior stalk off. Matters had just gotten more complicated.