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Chapter 24

The next day brought the usual pounding at his door.

“She needs a boyfriend.” Bear groused. For a stuffed toy, he really didn’t appreciate being awakened early.

“Ah. We gotta get up anyway,” Tenthé said loudly as he stretched. No need for quiet. He fumbled his way out of the blanket pile as the booms continued resonating through the room.

“How the hell does she do that?” Bear complained. “It sounds like she’s right here!”

“Dunno.”

Tenthé, wearing only his underwear and dragging his cloak, climbed down the ladder to his dorm room. He cleaned up, got new clothes on, and, as ready as he could be, opened the door. Elishua froze in mid-swing.

Bear poked his head out. “What would you do if I had a girl in here? Wouldn’t that be embarrassing? I thought we were all friends!”

Elishua ignored Bear and addressed Tenthé, “Come on, we have to hurry if we’re going to eat before you get the chance to cause another Magister to have a nervous breakdown. And, no need for me to be a friend, you two have found enough here. Can’t figure out how that could possibly happen. I’m amazed.”

“Yeah, me too,” Tenthé mumbled back.

Bear added, “And we all realize you’re only after me for my body. Which, come to think of it, you do know intimately.”

Leaving that comment to die the death it deserved, Elishua turned to leave, expecting Tenthé to follow. “So, do you have any idea what your first class is?” she called over her shoulder.

“Uh-huh, God Studies.”

At this, Bear started laughing. Elishua stopped to glare at both of them.

“What? Don’t you two dare screw this up! However you’re going to. It’s got to be one of the driest courses we have, but it sounds like you’re plotting something!”

Bear just kept laughing. Even Tenthé didn’t know why. They made their way to breakfast, where Tenthé joined his dorm-mates while Elishua ate by herself. The boys decided she was probably enough of a guard, for now, since all the other students seemed to have forgotten Tenthé.

Tenthé stuffed himself, then rushed to get to class. Elishua followed, looking peeved at having been forced to leave most of her breakfast behind. Even so, he was the last to arrive before the doors shut. He found a seat near the front and brought Bear out to sit on the desk.

The Magister entered, walked over to the podium, did not introduce himself, and, in a low monotone, started to read from a very thick tome.

“Some of the earliest gods we have a record of are Tisik, fuzzyButt, and Norsel. These gods were known…”

He was interrupted by a musical bong as Tenthé pushed his attention glyph.

Bear muttered, “And now it starts.”

The Magister seemed a little discombobulated. “Uh, uh… yes? What? Is there a question?”

He looked around, his gaze passing over Tenthé as if he wasn’t there and his glyph wasn’t glowing.

Bear stood up and started jumping up and down, “Hey, over here, your Emptiness! Here! Here! Focus, focus… yes, you’ve got it now!”

The Magister stared at the two of them, then took off his glasses, wiped them on his gown, and put them on again.

“What’s this? No kids or pets are allowed in here! You should get out and find your parents!”

Tenthé stood up, “Excuse me, sir, you’re saying those names all wrong. It should be Tssk!, way back in your throat, FauzshelBkt! also way back in your throat, and I think when you say Norsel you are talking about Noarselasimonasirius. You have to sing it with a waver in your voice. If you tried to call them by what you used, they would roast you and eat your spleen. They are very particular, and for some reason, they love eating spleens.”

This managed to push the Magister out of his monotone. “What! I’ll have you know I’m one of the foremost authorities on the old gods! This information comes from research done by the most eminent scholars!”

“Um, maybe so, but I’ve talked to and fought them a few times, and they would be mad if you said their names like that.”

“Balderdash! These gods are ancient! They haven’t been worshiped for, well, centuries! Long gone. Their temples are in ruins! How could you have the slightest clue! Wards,” he called, “Wards! Evict this… this boy from my class!”

There was a small surge of magic, and nothing happened. The wards appeared to have declined.

“Hmph, if they won’t do it, I will!”

Bear advised, “You might want to rethink that. I’m just warning you…”

The Magister wound up, displaying a significant amount of power. A spell flashed out to Tenthé, where it fizzled. Even though the results were insignificant, the people around Tenthé scrambled to get away.

Tenthé showed great restraint, reaching out and eating a big chunk of the Magister’s magic, but not all. This caused the Magister to reel and stumble over to his chair, where he plopped down.

“What…” he panted, “What?”

“My name’s Tenthé. Um, I’ve really met the old gods. If you’re such an expert, why don’t you just walk over and talk with them?”

“I… I’d love to, but they’re long gone! Everyone knows it. No worshipers, no god.”

“Well, they’ve found a way. We can talk to them right now. In the Old Temples.”

“What do you mean? There’s no such thing! They raze the building of the gods once they lose all their followers, then build new ones over them.”

“No, they don’t.”

“Yes, they do.”

“No, they don’t.”

“Yes, they do.”

“No, they don’t.”

“Yes, they do.”

And so on for a while. Eventually, Bear broke in, “Kids! Kids! Simmer down. This intellectual exercise is wearing me out! Why not just show him? It’s not that far.”

The Magister was incensed. “All right, let’s do it! This’ll be the first field trip ever for this class! But, I expect an apology when you’re wrong, young man!”

Tenthé, true to form, didn’t answer. He grabbed Bear and followed the surprisingly spry old geezer up the stairs to the door and out into the hallway. The Magister started toward the main entrance, but Tenthé tugged on his robe.

“Let me go first, it’ll be faster,” he said.

Bemused, the Magister fell back, with the rest of the class trailing. Tenthé led everyone through the small dining room, then to the kitchen and out through the rear passage. As they walked, the Magister kept peering around, all the while muttering to himself that this was new.

After exiting the stable, they made their way to the Temple district, where Tenthé wended through the warren of streets until they reached the back wall with its gates to the old temples. At this point, he stopped and waited for everyone to trickle in.

Tenthé looked at the temple remains and back at the Magister. “See?” he said.

“See what? I don’t see anything, just the City wall!” the Magister replied.

“Huh?”

Bear poked his head out.

“Try looking normally,” he suggested.

Tenthé did so. Dang! Bear was right! Now all he could see was the wall.

He turned to the Magister. “Um, do you have any way to look through magic?”

“No, I don’t really know what you mean, but whatever it is, I certainly can’t do it.”

“What now?” he asked Bear.

“I dunno. Maybe if he closes his eyes?”

“Okay, sir. We’re going to try something. Shut your eyes and put your hand out.” As he complied, Tenthé steered him toward the alley he could see through the wall.

The Magister followed, but stopped when his hand met stone.

“Try to pull him in,” Bear suggested.

Tenthé stepped through, grabbed the Magister’s sleeve and pulled hard. The Magister flew into the alley, drawing a chorus of oooh’s from the students. On the other side, the Magister recovered his balance and stared around in awe, his mouth hanging open.

“What’s happening? Where are we? This is… amazing!” he gushed.

“Sir, I’ll bring in the others, so go down here a little way.”

“Sure, sure,” the Magister responded, quite distracted.

Tenthé pulled people through until everybody was huddled together in the alleyway. From this side, the wall wasn’t visible and everyone could see the New Temples. A few hopped back and had to be hauled through by their friends. They were treating this like a lark.

Tenthé started to tell them about the spirits, but at that moment, one of the ghosts emerged from the wall of the temple they were next to. The ghost was colorless, except for the red eyes shining from the darkness of its cowl and, as usual, the temperature dropped so everyone could see their breath. It howled and moaned half-heard words… something cheery about death and such.

Tenthé ignored it, but most of the students screamed and fled toward the New Temples with a few tossing ineffectual spells in the general direction of the ghost. When the dust cleared, only a single boy and girl remained.

“Why didn’t you guys run away?” Tenthé asked.

The girl answered, “I figured because you didn’t, it probably wasn’t that serious.”

The boy ruefully admitted, “Ah… since she didn’t, I didn’t either.”

Tenthé laughed, “Ha! Follow me.”

The two trailed as they walked up to the Magister, who was standing at the mouth of the alley.

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“I have to admit I was wrong. This is incredible! This all is not supposed to be here!”

Tenthé faced the trio. “Okay. What is everybody good at?”

The boy responded, “Firebolt, pretty strong.”

The girl, “A melting ray. But I can only do it once before I have to recharge. That takes a few minutes.”

The Magister simply nodded without answering.

“Well, that’s not too bad. What’re your names? I’m Tenthé.”

“Ann”, “Sung”, and unexpectedly, “Manuel” from the Magister.

“All right. If we see a skeleton coming at us, Ann, you shoot at its knees, then Sung, you burn it. If it’s too close, run away. I’ll take care of it if anything goes wrong.”

He turned to the Magister. “Sir, is that okay, or do you want to do something?”

“No, no. Sounds fine to me.”

“He’s out of it,” Bear added.

“Yeah, this might not be my brightest idea.”

“Ha! I wouldn’t worry. None of them are.”

Tenthé tried to puzzle that one out, but gave up, fairly sure it was an insult.

“Just be careful,” he advised the group. “Even if you’ve had some training, the most important thing to remember is not to shoot each other!”

The rest trailed as Tenthé headed out. He wasn’t sure about going first, but he knew the way and would be okay if an errant shot hit him in the back. Probably.

He had an idea and pulled out Bear, tossing him on the ground.

“Watch them!” he ordered. “Make sure they’re doing what they should.”

“Yuck! It’s muddy! You realize I’m made of cloth?”

“Just do it!”

The others appeared to accept Bear as simply another new normal while they continued along.

After a short time, Bear paused his stream of complaints to say, “Uh, Tenthé, you might want to check out what our esteemed Magister is up to.”

Tenthé turned around to see him staring up at a figure standing next to one of the less ruined temples.

“This is amazing! The detail is so fine! Very realistic,” he was saying.

Tenthé sighed, “Uh, sir, what are you doing?”

“Admiring the sculpture, here.”

“What does it look like?”

“A larger-than-life skeleton, carrying a club, or something.”

“And what did I warn you about?”

“Well, skeletons. But you implied they would be moving.”

“And where do you suppose they would be, between the times they’re moving?”

“Oh.”

“You also realize that you have positioned yourself between us and the skeleton.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry,” Tenthé said as he ate the skeleton’s magic. As it crumbled, the Magister was forced to leap backward to avoid being clobbered by the falling club.

At that moment, a second skeleton walked out of a nook they had just passed. Bear yelled, “Behind us!”

Ann spun and used her spell. Instead of the little ray Tenthé expected, she fired a massive beam of black that obliterated the skeleton and most of the wall beside it! Sung’s relatively small firebolt followed, somewhat pathetic and not really needed. The destruction was impressive. Everybody watched as the dust and rubble settled. When no new threats appeared, Ann and Sung seemed to feel the need to jump and hug each other, all the while jabbering about how brave each other was.

After ensuring nothing new was approaching, Tenthé continued onward. The others, including the Magister, walked behind, excitedly chattering about the close encounter. Tenthé noticed that, even so, they were being much more alert than before.

When they emerged by the Old Gods’ temple, Tenthé addressed the group.

“All right now. When we go inside, be very, very, careful. Be respectful, stay with me, and remember: they really want followers, so don’t agree to anything. I’ll probably be able to do something if you get into trouble, but just don’t get into trouble in the first place.”

Ann responded, “If it’s all the same, I’d rather stay outside. Just knowing all this is here is enough for now. I’m not sure I’m ready to deal with anything more.”

“Yeah, me too,” Sung added, after looking at Ann.

Tenthé thought about it. “Okay. You’ll be safe if you stay near these pillars. They’re the wards that keep the old gods from escaping, but they also keep other things out. Don’t go too far away.”

Fairly sure they’d follow his order, Tenthé turned and made his way toward the passage behind the pillar. Bear and the Magister followed. Tenthé went first, and after squeezing inside, the Magister froze to stare at the apparently infinite vista populated by an uncountable number of strange figures milling about.

Almost immediately, the nearest gods turned to look, then began yelling and screaming while racing in their direction. As the noise rippled off into the distance, all the other gods joined in. Quickly, the rush grew to a stampede.

Tenthé glanced at the Magister, who was completely unaware of what was about to happen, all the while muttering, “Unbelievable! I can’t believe it, I really can’t!” over and over.

Deciding on the most conservative approach, Tenthé erected a dome. It was a good thing, since shortly afterward, a flying god slammed into it, followed by another, and another, then a steady stream of gods. It went on and on until the thuds died off. Not because the influx had stopped, but because the pile was so deep that it wasn’t possible to hear the gods hit anymore. With the dome completely covered, Tenthé flared on a light, and what was revealed was astounding! Extending over them was a sea of faces, feet, tentacles, gallons of ichor, and squirming bodies.

Tenthé modified the shield to allow sound through and they were immediately bombarded by groans, screams, variations of “Get your fat ass out of my face!”, a lot of “Look! Look! Fresh meat!”, but mostly pleas of “Worship me!”.

He turned to the Magister. “Guess it’s been a while since they had someone new make it past the wards.”

The Magister added, “Yeah… they do seem to be a little… excited. Are you sure this shield is going to hold?”

“Uh-huh. It’s rated for ten thousand gods,” quipped Bear.

“Is that a joke? I hope it’s a joke, because I’m sure there’s a lot more than that out there,” the Magister responded.

After it became apparent that they were probably safe, the Magister wandered closer to the gods, pointing at various bodies and calling out names. Generally wrong and usually completely mispronounced. Fortunately, the gods were so worked up that they weren’t being as nasty as usual.

After a while, parts of the dome grew lighter, revealing some giant god grabbing handfuls of the smaller figures and tossing them into the distance. Tenthé didn’t want to dispel the shield, because they would probably be doused in whatever secretions the gods had left behind. Eventually, one of the smarter ones clued in and summoned a rain shower to clean everything off. When it appeared safe, Tenthé removed the dome, ready to erect a replacement if there was a new rush.

In the distance, he could see more bodies being thrown into the air as something approached. As the last few were shoved aside, the witch-goddess Hchhabbahorchkkt appeared. She was accompanied by a second god, who appeared as an ever-moving pile of spiders. This was FauzshelBkt!, one of the gods the Magister had butchered the pronunciation of in class. This probably wasn’t a coincidence. The old gods were weak, but they had their ways.

The goddess rasped, “So, I see you’ve brought us someone new.”

“Yeah,” Tenthé replied. “I didn’t know this area was so hard for most people to find. I just figured they were smart and stayed away, or something. Guess I was wrong. I made a bargain to bring this Magister…”

The nearest gods repeated “Magister!”, which rippled out into the distance as it passed through the crowd.

“Um, yeah. He studies old gods and wanted to get to know you guys better.”

“Studies us, does he?” She leered at the Magister. “How well does he want to know me?”

The Magister spoke up, “Madame, I can tell you I am very surprised. I didn’t really think…”

At this, all the nearby gods laughed, which also rippled off into the distance. Apparently, the further ones had some way of listening in.

“Madam?” the goddess cackled, “I am not Madam! I’m Hchhabbahorchkkt! The Witch!”

“Hchhabbahorchkkt? Hchhabbahorchkkt?” The Magister said as he mulled over the name. “Oh! Oh! I know! We say it differently. Well, that’s interesting. We thought you were a myth!”

“A myth!” she screeched, “A myth! I’ll eat your spleen!”

The Magister mumbled out of the side of his mouth toward Tenthé, “Yeah, you said they did that.” Then, surprisingly, he rallied and spoke loudly. “My life is dedicated to the study of the old gods. You, I suppose. I suspect much of what we understood is entirely wrong, but if we work together, perhaps we can correct this. If you give me a chance, I’ll come back with more researchers to record your stories and publish them. Once the information is out there, who knows what could happen? It has to be better than what you have now!”

“Hey! The old fart may not be so stupid after all! That was somewhat well done.” Bear grudgingly admitted to Tenthé.

After some discussion, the Magister arranged to interview a few of the gods. He pulled out a pad of parchment and was frantically writing as they spoke. Tenthé even heard him call FauzshelBkt! by name, this time getting close to saying it the right way.

Tenthé had to re-cast the dome when it became evident the Magister wouldn’t be able to get to most of the crowd and they began showing their displeasure. The Magister reiterated that he would be back with more people and would collect everyone’s and everything’s stories. This helped keep the jostling to a minimum, but even so, many of the old gods weren’t known for their patience and ended up getting tossed into the distance.

Eventually, they had to beg their leave, exiting to avoid yet another riot.

As they made their way through the wards and garbage outside the temple, Tenthé turned to the Magister. “You did good in there, but you made a promise to come back. You’d better mean it, because these guys really hold to promises. They might not be strong, but they have ways to get even. And whoever you bring with you next time has to be careful too. The Old Gods are tricky.”

“I’m sorry I doubted you, boy! This was a lesson well learned; I’ll certainly listen to you in the future.”

“I suppose, but Bear knows more. He’s the one who taught me how to deal with them.”

“Bear? Who’s Bear?”

“My stuffed toy.”

“Ah. Of course. Bear.” Showing some insight, he added, “Can we trust him?”

“Uh, well… I’ll be there too.”

Having cleared the bulk of the obstacles, the two looked around for Ann and Sung, eventually spotting them a distance away. Ann seemed okay, but Sung appeared a little worse for wear.

“So, what happened?” the Magister asked as they approached.

“Well…” Sung started, “we were keeping a low profile when we noticed a couple of skeletons walking by, fairly regularly. They were slow, so we figured we could eliminate them and make things safer. We destroyed the first one and waited for the second to appear. When it got close enough, I was about to fire on it and when we discovered they can throw their clubs.”

“Oh. By the way, the skeletons can throw their clubs,” Tenthé added.

“Yes, well, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Anyway, it’s just a little bruise! Don’t be a baby!” Ann teased.

Showing some sense, the Magister suggested, “This is good and all that, but we should head back. The sun’s going down. I suspect we shouldn’t be here after dark,”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Tenthé agreed. “We’ll go the way we came, in case any of the other students tried to follow us.”

They headed toward the New Temples, with Sung leaning on Ann. Maybe a bit more than necessary, but Ann didn’t seem to mind. The trip was fairly quiet, with only the occasional specter trying to scare them.

Exiting through the magical boundary around the Old Temples, they found themselves alone

“Well… it’s been all day. I suppose everyone returned to the College,” the Magister hypothesized.

They made their way past the New Temples and emerged onto the road that circled the City Center, nearly running into a squadron of the more human-like Guardians double-timing past. The squadron halted, and a member stepped out of the formation, performed the complicated salute of the City, and barked, “Magister, Sir! You do not appear to be dead!”

“Um, yes. Very observant of you, uh… Sergeant? Yes, I’m fairly alive. I assume the returning students had wild versions of what transpired?”

“Correct, sir! It took us quite a while to uncover some version of the truth, thus our late deployment! Sir!”

“Tell me, how did you expect to help?”

“Not certain, sir! Part of the problem! Sir!”

“Uh, okay then. As you can see, we’re a little banged up,” he gestured at Sung, who didn’t appear to want to let go of Ann anytime soon. “We’ll get him looked at and probably have something to eat. I’m famished.”

“Good, very good, sir!” And with that, the Guard turned and double-timed off toward the College, leaving the four of them behind.

“Well… that wasn’t too useful. Although, I hear they are superb soldiers,” the Magister said while watching as the squadron disappeared into the distance. With nothing else to say, they resumed walking. Taking the back way in, the group passed through the busy kitchen and emerged into the small dining room, where everyone grabbed something to eat before sitting at a table. Ann had to help Sung eat when his arm that was just working while he went through the buffet decided to be injured again.

Surprisingly, the Magister was nearly as adept as Tenthé at stuffing his mouth while talking. Around his latest load, he spewed, “Young man, you have revolutionized my field! We’ll have to re-write all the leading books, most of which, to be truthful, I wrote. I’m sure you don’t mind if we call on you for help, since you’re the only way to access that fascinating place! It is astonishing to discover that the City has something like the old god’s temple, plus, even more, it would be a great location to train up the Combat students!” He leaned over to Tenthé, and in a stage whisper, added, “Between you and me, they need some real-world exposure. Those children would have been dead meat without you! Come to think of it, so would I!”

Tenthé heard the Magister’s comments spread through the room, passing from the nearest to those further away, just like in the old god’s temple. Dang it though! Right when everyone had forgotten him, too.

The formerly reserved Magister was looking around. “I’m pleasantly surprised. This place isn’t what I expected; the food is better and the students aren’t half the animals I had thought they’d be. They’re kind of like real people. I believe I shall partake of more meals here.”

He turned back to Tenthé. “And another thing! I’m convinced you know more than I do about the old gods. In my opinion, there’s no need for you to take my course. Give it a year or two, though, and I might surprise you.”

He took a massive bite, then continued, “I’d offer you a teaching position, but you’re not ready for that. I noticed that in spite of your abilities, you are still just a kid. No offense.”

“It’s okay, sir. People tell me that all the time… oops! Gotta go!”

Tenthé jumped up and disappeared into the crowd. Really disappeared! At that moment, the doors to the dining room crashed open and the largest girl the Magister had ever seen scrambled to a stop, followed shortly by a diminutive cat-woman who plowed into the large girl’s backside. Looking none too happy, the two of them scanned the room, spun around, and left.

One of the boys at the adjacent table spoke up. “I guess Tenthé’s girlfriend missed him, hey?” and the rest of the people at the table started laughing.

The Magister shrugged, not to be distracted from the serious business of eating.