Chapter 35: Bargain

“There was nothing we could do,” Soria said. “There’s no use dwelling on it. If it was the will of the gods that they’d make it, they did. Otherwise… Look, it wasn’t our problem.”

But it should have been. They asked for our help, and we didn’t give it.

It was one thing that the two of them hadn’t been able to fix the family’s cart. That, Larean could accept. They just didn’t have the necessary tools to do it, at night, and in the middle of the forest. But he and Soria could still have helped them pull it to the nearest village, or at least stayed with the family until daybreak to keep them safe.

The truth was there were a lot of things they could have done to help if they had wanted to. The real problem was that Soria and Pelam had lacked the will.

“I still think we should have done more,” he said, careful not to antagonize her. Things were bad enough between them already, and he didn’t want her to be angry and leave him alone here in the dark woods.

She sighed, as if resigned to his naïveté. “You have a good heart. I like that about you. But you used to think only of yourself. Now you’re risking us all for no reason. I want the old Larean back.”

But I don’t.

He didn’t even feel like joking anymore. Well, most of the time, anyway. Even the darkest of days needed a little humor now and then, to brighten things up.

“I just hope they’re okay.”

“I’m sure they are,” she said, all evidence to the contrary. He could hear the wolves howling behind them.

“I’m worried about Pelam, too,” Larean said, trying to change the subject.

That didn’t really improve things between them.

“He’s fine,” she muttered.

“Exactly how do you know that?”

Oh, I shouldn’t have asked that, he thought, afraid he had forced her into a corner.

Clearly, he had. She stared at him with ice in her eyes.

“You know, don’t you?” she wheezed between closed lips.

For a brief moment, he considered playing dumb. He had a lot of experience doing that. But this was not the time for Larean to be Larean. The old Larean, that is. Not the new Larean. Though of course, the new one was still Larean. Obviously.

Somehow, it was really a lot less confusing than it sounded, he thought.

He nodded. “I saw the dog. You took its life, didn’t you?”

“It’s the way it’s done,” she said with a shrug. “Patera required a sacrifice. The dog was nearby. I’m alive, so I have no regrets.”

“No, I get that. I’m glad you’re still with us, Soria. I just wish…”

“Wish what?”

He sighed. “You already know what I wish for. Let’s not fight about this. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

She mumbled something in reply he didn’t quite catch.

Larean would have asked her to repeat what she had said but was distracted by the incessant howling behind them.

They’re closer now, aren’t they?

Surely, they hadn’t been that loud the last time.

“Did you hear that?” he asked Soria. “I don’t think the wolves are hunting that family anymore.”

She tilted her head to listen, as if that would improve her hearing.

Then again, maybe it did. He really didn’t know much about such things.

“I heard them, but then they went silent,” she said.

“Is that good or bad?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, somewhat reluctantly. “Pelam’s the hunter. And we don’t have wolves like these back in the rainforest. Wild dogs, I know a little about. But wolves, I don’t.”

So it could be good—or bad, then.

Let’s assume it’s bad.

Such negativity was really going against his instinct, but reality had taught him a thing or two, lately.

The growling sound behind them confirmed he had been right.

Up ahead, he could see a small light, perhaps a lantern or a candle in the window of a building. No matter what it was, whoever had put it there might be around to help them.

“Run!” he shouted, despite not knowing how wolves might react to them doing that.

To their right, the road was lined with a chest-high stone wall, fencing in the property around the small farmstead they were passing by. Desperately trying to reach the entrance, hoping to find shelter from their pursuers, they ran as fast as their legs could carry them.

Eventually, they found a break in the wall. Flanked by high stone pillars, the gap opened into a cramped yard. A small house stood there, built from mortared stones and topped with a rough, thatched roof. Beyond it lay an open stable and a chicken coop, both constructed from untreated wooden panels.

Panting as they entered the small enclosure, the two of them frantically searched for a safe place to hide. They knocked on the heavy wooden door of the house, but it was locked and no one responded. At this time of night, Larean thought, whoever lived there was probably sound asleep. Soria and he could wait and hope they might wake up from the commotion, but judging from the growling sounds on the other side of the stone wall, they were quickly running out of time.

As they ran toward the chicken coop, Soria suddenly slipped on the grass, damp from dew, and fell to the ground. Her agonized cry was swallowed by the buildings surrounding them. Larean quickly reached for her arm and tried to pull her to her feet, but she was heavier than he had expected and the grass was slick. When he braced himself against the wall of the coop, his right foot slipped, and he slid down onto his back.

At that moment, the pack of wolves caught up with them.

Screaming at the top of his lungs and waving his hands in the air, he tried to scare them off from attacking Soria. She rolled to her side, narrowly escaping the beast that lunged for her, but at the same time, another of the wolves turned its attention to Larean.

Oh, this is so not going to be fun, he thought, mentally steeling himself for the pain to come.

And come it did.

The heavy predator, an animal with long, shaggy fur mottled in black and gray, sank its terrifyingly long canines into his arm, shaking its head as if to rip out a chunk of his flesh. Excruciating pain shot through his nerves as the wolf’s teeth began to crush his humerus.

Larean’s frightened scream brought one small advantage. The other two wolves, which had continued their attack on Soria, turned their attention to him instead. As advantages went, it was tiny indeed.

She scrambled to her feet but didn’t have time to stand properly. Gripping the door handle of the chicken coop, she dropped to her knees and threw all her weight against the hatch. It opened with a creak.

From inside the smelly building, the hens shrieked in terror at the sight of the wolves raging outside. It wasn’t a large coop, but it should fit them both comfortably, and the door looked sturdy enough to hold the wolves at bay, assuming they could find a way to barricade it from the inside.

In the panic and chaos of the attack, Larean realized he had completely forgotten his magic. Though that wasn’t entirely fair, he thought. The whole chain of events had lasted only seconds, and there really hadn’t been an opportunity to call on his fire, even if he had remembered to do so.

But this was his moment. For once, he managed to focus through the chaos of battle, and from his right hand, a wide stream of roaring fire erupted, setting the raspberry bush just to the side of the animal biting him ablaze.

At first, he was disappointed in his failure to direct the magic properly. But seconds later, the jaws clamped around his left arm loosened. Although his aim had been slightly off—he had fired a bit to the right on purpose, to avoid burning himself, but not that far right—he had still managed to singe the wolf, scaring it into letting go.

Now free, Larean shoved Soria inside the coop and followed, pulling the hatch shut behind them. He pressed his back against it, putting all his weight into holding off the lead dire wolf trying to force its way through from outside.

For a moment, the beast managed to shove the door open just enough to wedge its snout between the hatch and the frame. A massive paw followed, claws scraping at the dirt for traction as it tried to force its way in.

Inside the coop, the hens squawked in panic, flapping their wings madly in a doomed attempt to take flight. Within the cramped space, all they achieved was scattering feathers through the dusty air. The lone rooster ruling them tried to crow some sense into them, but the noise only added to the chaos. The birds just kept flapping around.

They’re dumber than geese, Larean thought. Though that comparison might have been just a tad unfair to the geese.

With a final push, he managed to evict the wolf. For a few brief seconds, the situation seemed to calm down.

That was until the light from the lantern outside illuminated the torn flesh on his left arm and the pool of blood slowly forming on the floor of the coop where he sat.

For a moment, he didn’t think things could get worse.

Then he saw Soria.

Or to be more precise, he saw what she was doing.

With her eyes closed, her lips moved in silent incantations to Patera. On the floor in front of her, he could see one of the hens, twitching unnaturally, its muscles slowly contracting and atrophying. The bird shrieked as its life was ripped from its tiny body.

“No!” he screamed, horrified at the thought of being healed by the god’s dark magic. “Soria, stop!”

She didn’t stop.

The hen, which had flapped around in panic, eventually ceased moving, its form transformed into nothing more than a dry husk. But Larean’s wound was still there. It was still open, and still bleeding.

Still painful.

Had someone told him a month ago that he’d end up enjoying the pain, he’d thought them crazy. But today, the discomfort proved to him that Patera had listened to his refusal. Then again, maybe it had been the god who had refused him, since he hadn’t provided the needed payment. From what he’d heard of Dark Flames and their practices, that was usually a requirement.

No matter, he thought. Even though Patera had proceeded to take the life of the hen, at least she hadn’t touched him. For that, he was grateful.

“Oh, you stupid Nimean,” Soria growled at him. “Why didn’t you let me heal you? Do you even realize how bad that wound is?”

He probably didn’t, but now when she put it that way, it didn’t sound that great.

“Can’t we bandage it? Let it heal naturally? I know it’ll take time, but it’s got to be better than the alternative.”

She nodded toward the shelves lining the walls of the small chicken coop. “Do you see any medical equipment here?”

Well, that was a problem, he had to give her that. And to make matters worse, he was starting to feel lightheaded now.

“You’re bleeding out, Larean. We need to stop it, and soon.”

“The people owning this farm can help. They must have bandages,” he suggested. “If we can just wake them up!”

“Sure,” she said, almost spitting the words at him. “And what about the wolves outside? We can’t just walk past them and ask for help.”

Unfortunately, he had to admit she was right about that, which put him in a precarious situation. If he stayed inside the coop, he would bleed out within the hour. If he left, the wolves would tear him to pieces.

The con artist in him had always preferred win-win scenarios. This, he feared, was the furthest thing from that. Then again, that was old Larean thinking. Perhaps ending like this wouldn’t be so bad.

Suddenly, the gloomy coop was filled with a beautiful, warm light, as strong as the sun. Its glow filled even the deepest shadows of the building. In front of them stood a woman, more beautiful than any he had ever seen before. It was as if someone had taken the very best parts of all the girls he had known in his life—Illistra, Remeya, Soria, and all the others—and put them together into one perfect specimen, radiating an abundance of power and wisdom.

She was young, clad in an alluring, loose-fitting white dress adorned with gold and jewels. Her long, wavy black hair flowed down her shoulders all the way to her slim waist, and her sweet smile made his heart melt.

“Hello, dear Larean,” she said sensually, her voice barely more than a whisper. Had the hens kept clucking, he wouldn’t even have heard her over the infernal noise they had been making, but the moment the woman appeared, they all fell silent. Only the rooster kept making the occasional crow.

“Do you remember me?” the woman asked, her words filling him with a longing for something he did not even understand. “I am Sepura. You have worshipped me your entire life. I have long wished to meet you, my dear friend.”

Sepura, the god of commerce. Mechanically, and without much sincerity, he had prayed at her shrine for favors over the years.

Not just the god of commerce, though, he remembered. The god of commerce and fraud. Given his not-entirely-legal career, he supposed it was fitting he’d spend his last moments in life with her. He only hoped they wouldn’t have to spend the rest of eternity together afterward.

“Hello,” he said, smiling back at her. Soria said nothing, only following their conversation with her eyes.

“I understand you’ve managed to get yourself into a spot of trouble here,” Sepura told him, pointing to the wound on his arm.

“Well, there’s not much I can do about that now,” he replied, his words more cheerful than his tired voice suggested. “I’ve already told Patera I don’t want any divine healing.”

Sepura nodded, her eyes filled with deep understanding. “Of course not. You’d never take a life to save your own. I’m glad you didn’t take her up on her offer. I can do so much better.”

Larean felt a spark of hope return. If he could get healed without having to sacrifice to the gods, that would be an entirely different matter. He could live with that.

Of course, there were still the wolves outside to take care of, but one step at a time, Larean, he thought. One step at a time.

“Not only will I heal you, my friend, but I will also give you my power. I know you’ve been struggling with your fire magic. It’s so hard for you to use the Deepwell. So difficult to concentrate, especially when it really matters.”

It made his heart warm to finally meet a god who actually understood him, he thought. He had heard Pelam’s stories about Mardocar and Patera and had expected Sepura and all the other gods to be the same. But here she was, kind and understanding. He couldn’t help but want to hear more of what she had to say.

“With my magic, there is no effort involved,” she explained. “You will learn to just visualize what you want, and it will happen. You will master the flames in ways you couldn’t even imagine now.”

“I would love to learn that,” he told her, visions of Larean Onyx the Magnificent resurfacing in his imagination. “Please. Tell me how to do that.”

She nodded and opened her arms wide as if to show him all that he would be given.

“You only need to worship me, and all will be yours.”

Up on its perch, the crazy rooster kept crowing like a maniac.

“Give me your soul, and I will give you my heart,” Sepura said, smiling like the sun.

Stupid rooster, he thought. Shut up. You’re ruining the moment!

Oh.

Uh-oh.

Suddenly, he looked at the god of fraud with new eyes.

So that was what the Word had meant.

It was not an easy choice, of course. It should have been easy, he thought. Mortally wounded and surrounded by wolves, accepting the lifeline Sepura offered him was the obvious answer. On the other hand, Joas had been adamant the Word could be trusted. And the Word had asked him to say “no”.

For Larean, making the wrong decision about whom to trust might cost him his soul. And making the right could cost him his life.

The rooster crowed again.

“No,” he said. “No, I will not worship you.”

Suddenly, the air crackled with lightning and fire. Sepura’s voice, which had previously been so soft and sweet, now boomed with wrath, as her eyes, filled with hatred, bore into his.

“Then so be it, fool!” she screamed with fury, her protruding canines looking almost like fangs ready to poison him. “Die, like the vermin you are!”

With that, the god of fraud was gone, as quickly as she had arrived, leaving only the faintest whiff of metal behind in the air, like the smell lingering after lightning from a thunderstorm. Chances were she would have taken his soul and never given any healing in return, he thought.

Larean just sat there, with his back against the door, panting.

It was over. It was all over. His defiance of the gods, his life, everything. This was the end of Larean Onyx. To be honest, and not to brag or anything, he was quite proud of himself.

He just wanted to close his eyes.

So tired. He was so tired.

Unfortunately, the wolf outside rudely disturbed his drowsiness by knocking on the hatch to the coop. “Hello,” it said. “Is anyone in there? Are you hurt? We’ve driven the wolves away. You can come out now.”

Go away, he thought defiantly, as reality blended with dreams. Nobody likes you.

Moments later, his woozy mind went black. Soria and the farmer had to drag his unconscious body out into the faint morning light so the man’s wife could tend to his wound.

Author's Note

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