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To Fly the Soaring Tides
82 - The God of Liars

82 - The God of Liars

The supposed royal guard gave them funny looks when their group showed up to the gate hauling a barrel between four men but had no real reason to stop them. Thus began Cira’s challenge of hobbling over rough terrain in the dark. Her armpit was getting sore from the crutch, and she grew exhausted over the long walk.

“Are you sure you don’t know pirate magic?” Jimbo was the only one with a torch, “Where do you keep pulling a torch from?

“From me pocket. Always comes in handy.” He held it a little higher to help the group, “When are you going to teach me pirate magic anyway?”

“I’m sorry to say, but pirate magic isn’t real.” Gotta come clean some day, “That was all sorcery.”

“Then teach me that! It’s perfect, since you’re all busted up right now. I can just blast everyone for ya, until we patch up your soul or whatever.” He held out a palm threateningly and made explosion sound effects.

“Well… It’s a little more nuanced than indiscriminately blasting people, but that’s not a bad idea. If I remember, your mana was a little above average so you won’t be able to pull off much, but we can increase that. Yeah… It could work.” She had no illusions that he would protect her with magic—that kind of power does not come quickly—but it could be fun to teach someone magic. “I’ve never taken a formal student before, and you will have to read a great deal. You can read, right?”

“Tch, of course I can! I look like some kinda dullard to you?” He gave her a pretty dumb look trying to prove his point, exposing his missing tooth.

“I think I speak for the armada,” James jumped in, “with a resounding yes.” Then he shot Cira a reassuring nod.

Jimbo pretended to trace a tear down his face, “I can read just fine, now teach me a spell!”

“Hold your horses. You still have to read the first volume to prove your resolve first.” Now he looked genuinely disappointed, “But… I suppose I could dig out a spell for you later. Think about what element you want to start with and be prepared to tell me why.”

“Copy that, Captain!” He ran up ahead taking the light with him, dramatically grasping his chin in deep thought.

“Dammit… Rocky, you have any light spells?” Cira asked the one person capable of casting.

“No… Why would I?” She could hardly see his appalled face in the moonlight.

“To see in the dark? I don’t know. Conjure up some lumenite or something.”

“What is that…?”

Cira could only sigh, “I can’t believe I forgot to pack a light.”

The walk felt longer in the dark of night, and Cira was well past winded by the time they made it close to home. Jimbo tried to make Skipper carry her, but she could see her spire poking up above the forest. This lit a flame of determination in her heart, and she was able to make it the rest of the way.

“That’s hardly a ship, Dreadheart.” Jimbo and her crew gazed up at the mass of stone with wonder, and Shirtless Joe tried going for the gate only to tumble backward.

“Oops, I need to get you all your passes. Wait here for a minute.” She had one from the other day that she reclaimed from Skipper, but the rest were inside. Cira painstakingly climbed the stairs and went straight for the door in hopes to get off her feet as soon as possible.

Ten minutes later, she had a line of pirates marching up her steps. Is this really a good idea…? All her treasure was still strewn around the lawn.

“Yikes, this place is a mess.” James commented, “What the hell happened?”

“I didn’t have the chance to clean up—” Cira tried to explain but was cut off by Baum shrieking.

“Is that your freakin’ leg?!” He pointed at a blackened and decomposing lump on the grass with bugs crawling all over it. It kind of smelled now that she looked at it.

Cira’s stomach instantly turned to knots when she took it in and had to spin around to keep her dinner down. “Gods, I forgot about that…”

“How?!” His jaw hung open in disbelief.

“I don’t know! A lot’s been going on. Get off my back.” Cira pouted, but everywhere she looked was crystalware dug into the dirt. There was not only cleanup but serious landscaping to take care of when she got better. “Man, this sucks…”

Jimbo started laughing, “Is that damn thing solid orichalcum?”

“Yeah… What about it?” She looked at him dubiously.

“I doubt I could even lift that, but I think I understand why you pay people in ancient rocks now. Imagine if that thing landed on your chest.” Cira shuddered and grew pale at the idea.

“I’d rather not…”

“Well, the lawn is sliced right up. You sure cut the hell off outta your leg.” He patted her on the shoulder like it was supposed to make her feel better, “Want the guys to clean up while we bust into this haunted library o’ yours?”

“It’s a forbidden archive!” She puffed up for a second before quickly deflating, “Can they do that, though? I didn’t expect to make anyone aside from this guy work tonight.” With a thumb pointed over the shoulder, she meant Rocky.

“Does Larry need to check your head out or somethin’?” Jimbo squinted his eyes, “You’re their captain. They’ll shine your shoes if you tell ‘em to.”

“Well, we don’t have to go that far, but maybe you’re right.” Cira looked up and thought about it for a few seconds, “Round ‘em up, I guess. I’ll lead the way to the workshop.”

Everyone picked up a random apparatus from the grass and followed Cira’s lead. She stuck a random wooden staff in the door to keep it open and passed by the kitchen, “Skipper, you’re on cooking duty again. Make plenty of whatever you want, but be sure to remember so you can buy more in town tomorrow.”

“Aye aye, Captain!” He gently sat down the spare cauldron and gave her a serious salute before running into the kitchen.

I guess it is that easy. The stairs were the hardest part again and everybody was uncomfortably lined up above her in a traffic jam, inadvertently putting the pressure on her to hurry up. The workshop was just around the corner, and she slammed the backside of her orichalcum needle against it, huffing and puffing. “Okay… Everything scattered across my lawn goes in here. Don’t move my staves, and if you see a strange ball of blue jelly, don’t touch it. Everyone understand?”

They all nodded and gave their salutes, roughly half of them eager to be put to task.

I hope Aquon’s doing okay. I’ll have to put the little guy in a bowl of water.

“What about me?” Rocky asked.

“Your work is at the end of the hall.” Cira’s crutch tapped along as they rounded the corner.

“Geez, how big is this place?” There were eclectic paintings and tasteful statuettes that lined her hallway. The red carpet was vibrant even in the dim light and Jimbo marveled at all the decorations as the walked down it. “What even are all these rooms? Did you build this place yourself?”

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“One question at a time! My soul can’t take all that.” A little frazzled, she somehow hadn’t prepared herself for question time and tried to calm him down, “My father built this place—the Island of Breeze Haven—and left it to me when he passed.”

“You got your own damn island, and it just flies around places? I think I’m starting to see why you’re so senseless sometimes. I mean, you made me pay a ten silver tab with mithril, and what was with that comically large hat with the skull painted on it back in Uru?”

“It served its purpose. I worked hard on that hat…” She glared at him, “Why are you always so critical?”

It was deflected with another laugh, “That’s practically my job as second in command. Can’t have you bumblin’ around like a fool unless the situation calls for it.”

“Fair enough…” They approached an ominous silver wall where the hallway ended. Almost polished enough to see their reflections in. “Here it is Rocky. I need to get past this door. Can you do it?”

“…how thick is it?” He tapped his knuckles against it and there was a dull, solid knock.

“About the same as it is wide. There won’t be any enchantments though.”

“Well, I would hope not…” he looked frustrated and like he wanted to back out before giving a long sigh, I can do it… But it will take time. Do you have any mana potions?”

“In fact, I do. You’ll find a light brown satchel full of them somewhere in the garden. They’re the bottles with an Earth Vein insignia on them.”

“Nice.” Jimbo commented.

“So, how long? There should be more than enough potions to keep you going, and if it helps I can lend you my forge to make an array.”

“Uh, I don’t know how to do all that…” The look on his face was that it went right over his head. “But if you got the potions, I can get it done in two or three hours. Uh, maybe we can discuss payment…?”

“Probably a mithril doubloon or something—pretty standard.” Cira shrugged, inspecting the block of titanium in fond reminiscence.

“In what sky is that ‘pretty standard’?” Despite the great fortune coming his way, he couldn’t help but gawk over it.

Jimbo slapped him on the shoulder, “My guess is whichever sky you find this island in.”

“Right you are.” She affirmed it with a thumbs up, “Well, boys. I haven’t bathed in three weeks, so I’ll be back.

“That ain’t too long up here, Dreadheart.”

“You know nothing of these skies, Jimbo.” She turned away and headed to the baths that had been calling her name.

___

Cira's stump was healed over enough that she could take a proper bath this time, but it burned like smearing salt in a wound. This was a permissible tradeoff in her mind and the exhaustion helped ease the pain along with the mineral rich waters that poured from the wall when she turned a knob. She took the opportunity to wash her Dreadheart ensemble in the sink and it let out a thick, black grime.

“Goodness… pirates sure are filthy.”

The late evening was not the time to pick out a new outfit, so she pushed the sewing off and put her dark leathers and loose corset back on before exiting the bath. Cira made a quick stop at the library then went to go check on Rocky. He hadn’t made any visible progress, so she left him alone.

The workshop door was open and it was a mess, but all her tools were in there and even a few random pouches she forgot the contents of.

Upstairs the smell of a feast was gathering, and she liked what she saw on the stove. Skipper made a display of grilling up something of everything she had at once—lamb, beef, pork, various fish—in separate pans of course. She was excited for second-dinner, but the meals from the Flying Dutchess would tide her over.

Outside, the lawn was now clean of magical apparatuses, and she saw everyone gathered on the narrow edge of the lawn around her garden table which held a barrel of ale. Cira didn’t feel like drinking any more, but it was nice to see everyone laughing and having fun under the single torch stuck into her lawn. Before heading back over to them, she scooped poor Aquon into a bowl of water. There was a dark spot in the grass where it absorbed any moisture it could, but that wasn’t enough to reform the gem or even see that cerulean glow.

“You’ll be alright, Aquon.” She poked the gelatinous blob which jiggled in its bowl, “You did a great job back there.”

It was sad seeing her mighty Staff of Springs reduced to this, but time would bring it back around. Prismagora now shined with a dull luster from all that comatose time it spent in the sun, but she’d leave it in the grass for emergencies. After putting Aquon inside somewhere the sun wouldn’t hit it, she walked over to her crew and threw a book down on the table.

“Here you go, Jimbo. If you can make it all the way through this book and still tell me you want to be my student, I’ll teach you magic.” I’m finally offloading all those copies Dad had me make. “It’s a transcription so I’ll want it back.”

“Holy crap… That’s a big book.” He picked it up and read the cover, “The Sorcerer’s Com-pen-dium… Volume One.” Thumbing through the pages, his eyes went wide, “This’ll be a doozy…”

“The choice is yours, Jimbo.” Cira offered her best serious tone, “to walk the path of sorcery is no easy task. There is no shame in backing down.”

“Sheesh, when you put it like that…” He groaned, starting the first page, “who the heck is this Gazen guy, anyway?”

That earned a chuckle and she tuned into the other pirates’ belligerent conversation for a while. Evidently Skipper had helped them to the dishes while she was cleaning up, too. Ordinarily it would irritate Cira, but there was something amusing about watching these rugged men fill up her ornate, floral teacups straight from the keg.

“I gotta admit,” James slurred, “This is some place ya got. We should drink here all the time!”

“I don’t know about that one…” It’s nice having friends over, but pirate parties every night would get old fast.

For the responsible one, James really liked to indulge when he could. There was no approaching danger, and the barrier could be seen shimmering faintly against the night sky. Stars just barely poked through the ever-present veil of mist up above. Everyone was letting loose, with the exception of Cira who was content to sit in her chair wrapped up in some spare robes and watch the fun.

All of a sudden Cira was being shaken awake and her eyes felt heavy as she pried them opened, “No way… How long was I out?”

“I dunno, but Rocky got through. He’s saying some… weird stuff.” Jimbo's face was uneasy, “Maybe you should go take a look.”

“Shit! He didn’t go inside did he?!” She jumped up in a moment of presumed clarity and fell flat on her face, having trusted a foot that wasn’t there.

Cira sulked in shame as Jimbo helped her up, laughing “I think he’s in there now, I don’t know. Kept goin’ on about some sealed god that swore to grant him power. He’s totally on one.”

“What?!” She picked up the pace, digging into the grass with her crutch on the way to the front door, “I have no idea what that could even be. We need to hurry!”

“Hah!” Jimbo broke off ahead, “I love this place!”

“Wait, don’t touch anything!” Cira called ahead to him as he left to get the jump on Rocky.

This is bad… Even that crazy demon skull didn’t say anything coherent. There’s no way Dad has a god sealed up. Maybe in his archive, but even that’s a stretch. She shook her head violently. Nope. Definitely no gods. So, something is not only speaking to my mage telepathically, but lying to him? What evil nonsense have you left me this time, Father?

Cira finally made it to the hallway and heard rabid screams coming from the end. Quickening her pace, she nearly slipped on the pile of titanium pebbles on the ground and found Jimbo, James, and Baum holding down a frantic Rocky. His bloodied hand clawed at the brick, trying to grab for something in the corner that she couldn’t discern.

“What the hell is this?!”

“GOD HAS MADE A PROMISE TO ME!” Rocky shrieked, “HE WILL GRANT ME POWER IF I FREE HIM. I WAS SOOOO CLOOOOSE!”

He started banging his head on the ground and a goon had to wrap his arms around it to keep him from smashing it open.

“Don’t listen to it, Rocky!” The goon sounded desperate, like he was trying to convince himself too, “It’s not real! It’s just not!”

“There is no god in this room, you fool! What are you hearing?!” His snarled cries said he wasn’t paying attention to her whatsoever now.

“You’re telling me you don’t hear that?!” Jimbo’s eyes held a terror Cira hadn’t yet seen.

“What?! I don’t hear anything!” Cira was dumbfounded, “What is it saying?”

“That it’s god, and all we have to do is free it and we’ll gain umatched power. I gotta admit…” His face was drenched in sweat, “The way he says it, I kinda wanna give it a try.” Jimbo nervously glanced at a table in the corner.

“Well, well, well…” Cira paced over to the table and glared at the blatantly evil thing sitting there. It was trapped under a bell jar precariously close to the edge, and she took the liberty of scooting it over. The crimson jeweled spider clanked against the glass as its eight eyes reflected the edge growing further and further away. “What, you don’t want to talk to me? Worried I won’t fall for your charade? Don’t try to play dumb with me.”

On one hand she felt ridiculous reprimanding a spider, but she had to hold firm. There was no other living creature in this room aside from the pirates, unless it snuck in sometime after the door was unsealed—not likely.

She stared into its eyes intently and started to feel a little bit of fear. She’d never seen a spider quite like this, and wasn’t too fond of the regular kinds either. It was just smaller than her palm, but with a carapace like jagged rubies and eyes that burned with the pure white light of death.

It evidently crumbled under her gaze, and she felt a click of static in her mind, “Oh wise wielder of magic… I beseech thee, free me from this prison! I am known as the exalted god of spiders, and I will grant you divine powers unmatched through all the skies—”

“If that isn’t the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard…” Cira tapped on the glass, “You’re some kind of evil death spider, aren’t you?”

“I-I swear it to be true! The one and only god of spiders stands before you on his myriad legs!” The voice was certainly godly enough, like a silky old man. The tone needed work though, and he was clearly nervous.

“Eight.” Cira corrected.

“I… beg your pardon?” The spider god replied.

“Eight legs. I counted.” She squinted at him suspiciously, trying to gauge the micro expressions in his exoskeleton.

“Right… What I mean to say is the one and only true god of spiders has appeared before you on his eight sacred legs!” They all clacked against the table in a showy tap dance, “Power beyond imagination lies at your fingertips, young chosen one. Will you grasp it?”