After spending the rest of the day in the library with no Vain in sight, D’Argen learned that all information about the field of red snow and the strange pillar was hidden in the private library. The mortals did not know of it.
D’Argen wondered, for a moment, about what happened to the mortals that had travelled with him to the north and had seen that pillar – were they still there and kept from returning home? No. That would be imprisonment and Acela rarely resorted to such methods to keep her secrets. She was much more likely to send Vah’mor after them for other means. Before he could focus on that though, he realized that his mind kept jumping away from that pillar.
It was similar to how Darania’s compulsion had kept him from thinking of their old realm and where they were from. One more thing to ask her when he saw her again in the near future. He was tempted to write it down on a piece of paper and put it close to his chest to keep from forgetting it, but the thought of the paper he held there with Thar’s name only made him angry.
Just as D’Argen was ready to call it a night, the door to the private library burst open with a gust of wind that sent some of his papers flying. Before D’Argen could collect them all, he found himself enveloped in a hug so tight that it stole his breath. He was lifted off his feet and spun around. A joyous laughter wet the skin behind his ear. He was finally released to stare into Abbot’s dark eyes and wide grin. Over the man’s shoulder was Yaling, her smile smaller but just as soft.
“You should have waited for us,” Yaling said with a grin. Now that Abbot had released him, she slipped between the two and hugged D’Argen as well. D’Argen knew that, like him, Yaling was not much of a fan of physical contact other than with some specific few – Abbot being one of them. To feel her arms wrap around him and her chin resting on his shoulder was rare. He enjoyed the warmth for a moment before it became uncomfortable. She released him just in time.
“I have had a lot on my mind since I awoke,” D’Argen tried to find an excuse. He felt horrible for not having even thought of the two of them. “I have so much to tell you!”
Yaling scoffed and started straightening up the papers that their entrance had displaced. “Of how you slept? Or is it of that Mayan? I can surely imagine he left an impression on you.”
D’Argen felt his cheeks warm but ignored that in favour of rolling his eyes and saying, “An impression on my bones, maybe. I’m pretty sure I have his fingers imprinted in some places with how hard he gripped me.”
Yaling’s soft laughter and Abbot’s louder one had D’Argen go back over his words. Then he realized how they sounded and he shook his head with a smile. He also decided that, for now, there was no need to burden them both with his visions while he slept. Darania would help him. She owed him.
“Come, I have someone to introduce you to,” Abbot urged, taking loose pages from D’Argen’s hands and putting them in Yaling’s newly empty ones.
“Ah, no. Unfortunately, Zetha asked for him first,” Yaling put the papers right back into Abbot’s hands and then took hold of D’Argen. “Something about that princeling,” she explained as if that meant anything to D’Argen.
D’Argen had nothing to say as Yaling grabbed him by the hand and dragged him out of the private library. Just outside the door was a mortal woman, stooped and seeming half asleep. As soon as she saw Yaling she perked up and smiled wide. Yaling, however, did not stop to greet her except to say, “In a bit.” The woman nodded. Yaling dragged D’Argen out of the library and up a single set of stairs.
“D’Argen! Good to see you again,” Zetha greeted as soon as the two entered a smaller tea room on the first floor. Inside the room were only two other people – the older man who had said he could not go north and his son. “I just received the message from Darania herself. She must have gotten distracted once you left to send it so late.”
“Yes, must have,” D’Argen agreed without actually lying.
“This is King Alain of Cial and his son Prince Joel,” Zetha introduced the two. “Your majesties, you were already introduced earlier but this is D’Argen, the Envoy of Evadia. And I believe you both already met Yaling, a member of D’Argen’s usual party.”
Alain nodded, his bottle jaw trembling, and Joel raised his chin as if in defiance. D’Argen focused on his bare throat for a moment.
“Neither of them are known as gods of something?” Joel asked, his voice haughty.
Yaling’s grin looked painful.
“God of Discovery and God of Music in turn,” Zetha introduced. Yaling had not been known as the God of Music in millennia, but it was the only title of such that she had ever held.
“What would a God of Music do—”
The prince’s words were interrupted when his father smacked him with the back of his hand against the younger man’s shoulder.
“King Alain—”
“Just Alain,” once again the older mortal interrupted. “No need for titles and formalities now. Not with what we discussed to be happening.”
“Of course, my friend,” Zetha smiled. It did not look as painful as Yaling’s smile, but the King of Evadia was tense. “Alain came to us with a request and I could think of no one better to help but you, D’Argen. Fortunately, you awoke. Otherwise, Yaling would have been head of this task.”
“And what task is this, Zetha?” D’Argen asked, ignoring his king’s title as well.
“My boy, he spends all his time in the libraries of Cial. He has travelled to every city and every village and every shop where words are written. As far as I’m aware, he has read everything Cial has to offer. But reading is one thing. I want him to experience the world for himself.”
“And what better way than next to the God of Discovery?” Zetha added in.
Oh no.
No.
“I would like you to allow Joel to accompany you during your travels over the next few months. Not long. A year, at most, would do. With your speed and experience, I believe of no better way for him to experience all of Trace. And, who knows? If he enjoys it, it may be even longer?”
D’Argen had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself silent, otherwise he would have started swearing. Fortunately, Yaling was also still gripping his wrist tight and keeping him from running away. Running with a mortal. No… not just that. Acting as some sort of caravan or tour guide for a mortal prince? It was almost insulting. If D’Argen had kept himself hidden for just a bit longer, if he had remained in that dream world for just a bit more, he could have escaped this. True, it would have been Yaling stuck with leading the prince around, but at least it would not have been D'Argen.
He smiled.
“So, this D’Argen has not been to the north yet?” the prince, Joel, asked with his nose in the air. He barely even looked at D’Argen.
“He was part of the first exploratory party,” Zetha corrected with a placid smile.
“But he is not going now?”
“No. He will be accompanying you, that was the goal.”
“I thought he was the fastest thing in all of Trace. Can he not go and come back to accompany me? Or if Father is so adamant about us starting this journey sooner, we can go north together first.”
“There is no need for him to go north. Not yet.”
“And he is not—”
“Right here,” D’Argen interrupted, tired of being talked about as if he was not standing right beside them. “I could run you north if you wish it, but I don’t think your father would appreciate it.”
Joel remained silent, staring at D’Argen with narrowed eyes.
“You wouldn’t survive,” D’Argen explained. “My speed is not comfortable for most of the gods and for the mortals, it can be deadly.”
Zetha laughed as if D’Argen had said the greatest joke. King Alain joined in with a laugh that turned into a heavy cough. Joel turned to his father and helped him drink some water. Zetha glared at D’Argen.
Stolen novel; please report.
“Yaling? Do you mind escorting Alain and Joel to their rooms and helping Joel prepare as you usually do? If all is well, you could leave within a week. D’Argen, please remain. I must catch you up on some events and get to see you again. It has been too long.” Zetha sounded so fake.
The mortal king, however, was already on his feet with a short metal stick supporting his steps as he wobbled toward the door. Yaling held the door open for him and then stood there long enough for the prince to take the hint and leave the room as well. She closed the door quietly behind her as soon as she was out.
As soon as they were alone, Zetha muttered, “You need to stop this.”
“Stop what?”
Zetha hissed out an uncharacteristic swear and circled the chair so he had room to pace. He still lowered his voice, proving that he did not even trust the thickness of the doors. “You know exactly what. I am glad you are awake D’Argen, truly, but you are in the same frame of mind now as you were before. And things have changed. I know seven years does not seem long to us, but half our allies have different rulers in place and the other half have started questioning our powers. And you have a habit of jumping at the slight provocation. Do not interrupt me!” he snapped loudly when D’Argen opened his mouth. After a moment, he continued but the scent of his mahee, of ozone and the air after a storm, filled the cabin.
“We have all noticed this change in you even from before you left Evadia for so long. Stop! We know! There has been something off about you for so long, something different. And now? Now you return as before? Stop! I do not care for your reasons. Darania sent a message that she wants you back in the Rube Islands, she wants to check what adverse effects there are with your awakening so early. And let us not even speak of the fact that you used another god’s mahee!”
D’Argen thought, for barely a moment, to ask since when did Zetha refer to them as gods and not as the Never Born. Zetha’s face fell for a moment, probably catching the thought, but he went right back into his speech, ignoring the stray thought.
“Thar will not speak of it, I will not probe you, we trust you that much, but I need you to be in control and on your best behaviour! No,” he interrupted himself one more time when he caught D’Argen’s thought that he was on his best behaviour. “No! You are not acting your best. You need to learn to bite your tongue more often than you do. We cannot afford to claim more enemies now. The Queen of Elese is already itching for war since she tasted victory when she took her throne.”
Well, it was a good thing D’Argen was awake for everything that was happening.
After a deep breath, Zetha’s face finally calmed.
“I apologize. I am truly glad you are awake, but we have to step carefully now. I know this task is one you do not wish to do, but it is one that needs to be done.”
Why? What exactly could D’Argen do—
“I said, do not interrupt me!” Zetha actually raised his voice. The King of the Gods took yet another deep breath, as if he had not been able to breathe all day, then started speaking again in a low voice. “You heard of the attack Vah’mor had to carry out?” D’Argen’s eyes widened in answer. An attack? Was it on— “Yes. On mortal settlements. Another nation attacked our lands, burning down multiple smaller settlements under Acela’s protection. Acela had no choice but to give Vah’mor back their title as General of Evadia. Near five hundred lives were lost before Vah’mor put the rebellion down with their troops.”
How many more were lost under Vah’mor’s glaive?
Zetha continued, “The human king from whose lands the attacks came claimed he was unaware of their plans, but refused to swear fealty to Acela and Evadia. That same king had also cut off some of the trading contracts with Evadia and Tormdale, even blocked one of the trading routes and separated himself and his subjects. In order to try and restore relations, Acela has been doing her best to make new connections with other nations.”
D’Argen wanted to ask why he was being told all this. He had never been involved in the politics of Evadia other than to deliver messages and gifts, sometimes people. Did it matter if he knew how bad mortal relations were? Did the ore found in the northern lands have anything to do with it? Was it because of these turbulent times that he was to babysit Joel?
“Yes. To all of that,” Zetha answered the unspoken questions. Even with the promise of never probing their minds without permission, all gods knew that Zetha could do nothing to stop from hearing the surface thoughts of those near to him. With how D’Argen’s mind was swimming, the runner was surprised those were the only questions Zetha caught.
“You do not need to know all the politics, but if you wish to, talk to Vain. All you need to know is that we must cater to them, at least for a bit. Let me just tell you that we have lost a few alliances, Cana has refused to answer Acela’s summons since the last time she was here – which was before you all left for the north – and Olov has reported an unnatural influx of mortals moving into his lands.”
D’Argen opened his mouth to ask, but once more Zetha raised a hand to still him.
“Speak to Vain if you want to know more. But as your task to carry Joel around, I do have another for you. I need you to visit Cana’s lands. The Jiyahad King is careful of what information comes in and out of those lands, and Cana refuses our summons – we need to know why. See what is happening and report it back to Acela. No mortal should know of this. In fact, I fear, I do not want even Cana to know of this.”
Why would Cana refuse? Was she hurt or held captive in some way? Was that cursed stone back and in larger quantities, like it had been in his dream?
Zetha’s face creased in confusion, but instead of answering the silent questions this time he only said, “Acela fears Cana is too sympathetic with the mortals. Unfortunately, with the discovery of that ore, we may soon be at a disadvantage.”
“A disadvantage?” D’Argen finally spoke aloud.
“D’Argen… we lost Lilian seven years ago. We almost lost you,” Zetha’s voice was finally soft, the pain of those words heard in every syllable and seen in the wet sheen covering his eyes. “There are less than a hundred of us left. We lost too many in the demon wars and now… now we have lost at least one to the elements. If… if mortals gain access to our magic, who knows what they would do with it. What they could do with it against us.”
“Why would they attack us?”
“Why are they breaking their alliances?” Zetha asked back. “They are mortal, who knows how they think? Even my mahee cannot make sense of what goes on in their heads. And no,” he raised a hand again, forestalling D’Argen’s next words. “Cana does not know either. From all our time on these lands, there is only one thing I know for sure about them. They cannot sit still. They must constantly war and fight, measure who has the most lands and who controls the most subjects. A slight from an ancestor centuries ago can turn into the end of an entire bloodline. We are stronger, but we are few, and they know this. A common enemy will unite them.”
“And we are the enemy now?”
“We are different. We always have been. Do you remember when we first came to these lands?” D’Argen remembered going on his first run, encountering the mortals for the first time by himself, and then again with Lilian by his side. Zetha nodded as if he had seen D’Argen’s memory. “They were so scared of us and wary, attacking out of fear of the unknown. The only time they have been united was during the demon wars. Not before and not since.”
“And now, we are the demons.”
“We may as well be,” Zetha answered and dropped on the chaise he had been circling as if the weight of the entire realm was on his shoulders. D’Argen knew it was not on his but on Acela’s, and Zetha was only trying to take some of her burdens. “Acela is doing everything she can to stay in their good graces, but the one thing they want most from us is the one thing we cannot share.”
“Our mahee,” D’Argen said. Then he thought of the ore.
Zetha’s head shot up. “We must control it. No Never Born is to infuse any such metal with their magic. Not unless we all agree.” D’Argen made note of the change, no longer the gods but their true name in the common tongue. “And this ore… it cannot be only in the north. We have already sent others to look for more on the mainland, now that we know what it is made of. Delcaus has broken it down to its most basic components and we believe the mountain chain east of Kaariai may yield more.”
“They cannot turn it into weapons, the Jiyahad King said so,” D’Argen whispered, feeling dread crush his chest.
“Yes, that is what he said. But he is wrong. It can be done, Halen has already succeeded with some of his mortal pupils. They are all loyal to him and will not share it, but others will find out soon enough. And if they do not need our help to shape it, if they can find some way to force us or to infuse it with our magic without our knowledge…” Zetha trailed off.
D’Argen shivered and it had nothing to do with the ice sliding down his spine like a caress.
Why had Zetha told him all of this? He did not need to know it. He did not want to know it. When D’Argen looked at Zetha’s wide shoulders curved down with the weight of it all, he understood the answer even before his king spoke it. Zetha needed to tell someone. Anyone. And everybody else already knew this. Everyone, except for D’Argen, who had been too busy in that dream world and ethereal realm instead of being by his queen and king, by his general, to help them as the Envoy of Evadia. He recalled exactly where his sash was, stuffed at the back of his closet, the metal pin that he wore, the decorative daggers – all things that marked him as the spokesperson for Evadia who only answered to the First Five.
He did not hate the thought as much as he thought he would, but he still disliked it. Still, he would not let his dislike stop him from helping them as much as he could in his own way. If that meant running a mortal princeling around all of Trace for him to gain some experience, he would do it. If that meant spying on… looking at… no—it was spying and there was no other word for it—on one of their own to ensure they were going with the plan that would be best for them all, he would do it.
And if it meant that he would be shackled to Evadia once more, he would wear that shackle with a smile and nod politely. It would not last long, he knew it – it never did in the past. Every few thousand years events happened that required D’Argen to return to his duties in Evadia. And even then, Acela honoured his mahee’s need to run and gave him the tasks that kept him out of the city. It was no different this time.
Zetha must have caught at least some of that because this time when he looked up at D’Argen and exhaled, his shoulders did not seem to carry as much.
“Darania does need to see you. You do not need to hurry, but you may take Joel there if you wish or visit her after his few months with you are done. I do want you to, however, let us know what is happening with Cana soon.”
D’Argen nodded. After receiving nothing more, no orders or more rants, or more information that Zetha needed to take off his chest and share the weight for anymore, he turned around and left. As he walked through the halls of Evadia, not sure where exactly his feet were taking him, he ran the entire conversation over and over in his head.
It was only when he felt his thoughts were completely his own again that he realized he had returned to the library. Just inside the door were Abbot and that mortal woman, laughing and talking quietly over one of the tables there. Abbot’s wide grin was a joy and D’Argen felt, for the first time ever, that he needed to know the mortal’s name that made him look like that.
That thought felt like a betrayal to him when Abbot introduced the woman as Fran. He said quite a bit about her, like where she was from and her skills, but none of that mattered. Not when he said that Fran had been travelling with Abbot and Yaling over the past five years.
Not when D’Argen realized that she was Lilian’s replacement.