Chapter 64 – Teller of Fate

Teller of Fate

Sixth Movement: The Fate of Stars

Chapter Sixty-Four

* * *

Jane stood with Elian along the crenelated outer wall, watching with increasing dread the pitched battle between scores of silver horses and a being of spitting red light. The Red God, the mages were calling it.

The top of the Magsmens Tower was large enough that a hundred people wouldn’t crowd it; it did feel crowded, though.

At least a dozen mages were arrayed to their left, near the corner closest to the Effor Gate. Another four dozen were across the roof, watching the activity in the Plaza of Dying Suns.

A handful of armed magsmen hovered behind them near the hatch that led down into the tower itself.

The former Custodian still wasn’t used to the fact that no one had any colour. Her hands looked as if they were stained with white ink.

Elian looked even more incongruous. White hair shouldn’t look like tangles of white thread. The dwarf’s beard looked like something had dripped from his face and dried.

Her own hair felt the same as before, but what she was able to see of it looked not much different from the dwarf’s.

Elian’s eyes were featureless wedges of smooth white. Experience told her that the dwarf shouldn’t be able to see anything, yet he assured her that hers were the same and Jane certainly could see.

The pain that had accompanied this colour leech’s advent was a terrifying memory.

The mage who had spelled it away informed her that she’d suffered for less than three minutes.

She would never bring herself to believe it had been that brief, however subjective time was.

That the pain and the colourlessness of everything was from the White God beginning to feast on her was another creepy thought.

Jane wondered if she’d ever shake the nightmares the last few days were sure to bring.

The beginning of the Apian Road was as white as the stone she leaned on, but it darkened to slate grey less than a hundred yards from the open Effor gate.

That same mage had told her that that was the extent of the White God’s influence. It was contained within the invisible barrier that kept Glyph safe from Nonspace.

The current effort was to prevent the two gods from touching. No idea did the wizards have as to what might happen, but they feared the worst.

The mage then walked Jane and Elian over to a point where they could see the wall between the tower and the gate, pointing to a bright spot on the road about three hundred yards beyond the border. It was a deadline, she explained.

Indicating the wall to either side of the gate, the mage pointed out the wizards and armed magsmen and mercenaries, lined up two deep along its entire length. Some of the non-magick users carried weapons the former Custodian thought of as futuristic.

The mage explained that if the Red God made it to the deadline, the full might of three guilds would be brought to bear on it: Hell would be unleashed.

Jane jumped as a powerful voice echoed over the city, crying: “The White God is come! Prepare the Working!”

“It’s started,” Elian rumbled, gratuitously.

Jane gripped the stack of cards she held more tightly. The moment was upon them. ‘Breathe slowly,’ she told herself. ‘You know what to do. The hard part is in the hands of others.’

Earlier, they’d marked out the exact center of the roof and headed there now.

There was no ritual other than the laying out of the cards in a specific pattern. All cards had to be laid out face down, the tops edges facing in toward the Plaza of Dying Suns.

First, a square of nine cards, three by three; the top row, left to right: The Infinite Will, Intuition, and Memory of Watr.; middle row, right to left: The Volition, Imagination, and Desire of Watr; bottom row, left to right: The Intellect, Instinct, and Sensorium of Watr.

A golden flare went up from the Mages Guild Tower: Bradwold was ready. Another from atop the Merchant’s Guild: Darmorel and Quolamin had completed their task.

Centered Atop the nine Jane placed a square of four cards: top row right to left: The Mate of the Light of Watrs and The Child of the Light of Watrs; bottom row, left to right: The Bearer of the Light of Watrs and The Bringer of the Light of Watrs.

A third flare, this from the Mercenaries Guild tower, went up. John and Erahn had built their pyramid, as well.

Finally, The Creator of Watrs went down atop the four, completing the design.

A sound like the sweet music that had presaged the opening of the gates rang from the cards. They rose until they formed a floating three-level pyramid. The sound faded and was replaced by a blare as of trumpets.

The top card glowed golden, quickly became too bright to look at directly. They both stood and backed off, covering their eyes. The ball of light shot up into the air, with a whoosh and lit up the whole Magsmens Guild building.

“Well, we’re ready,” Jane said.

* * *

“Well, we’re ready,” John said.

Erahn stood from contemplation of the floating, glowing pyramid of cards, just as another flare shot up; this one from the top of the Magsmens Tower.

“Good for ya, lover,” Erahndira spoke softly. She stepped around the cards and walked up to John, standing at the corner of the Tower facing the Plaza. She placed an affectionate arm around his shoulders. Both had redressed after creating their anchor for the Working.

He smiled at her and put an arm around her waist, kissing her briefly yet firmly on her lips.

Erahn and John had done a lot more than just talk in the last hour. To the wonderful bond she’d formed with Jane was added this beautiful man.

The cat-woman had fucked many men of her own kind but had never felt more than a transient lust for any of them. It was women who had inspired both desire and affection.

She had mated with and loved all the women who had found her worthwhile and mourned every departure. The last, and the hardest, had been her poor dead daughter, Zilonen. Yet, the pain of losing her hadn’t lingered much at all.

The Miu wondered at that.

She cared for John almost as fiercely as she did for his sister. It was all so new to her, this kind of love. There was something in him that the men of the Miu lacked—an aura of peace and stillness.

The two stood, watching the distant, flickering rage of a Red God.

The White God had coated them with ITs essence; had tried to suck the souls from them. IT waited, Erahndira knew, the exhaustion of the wizard spells that held it at bay.

A painful, eternal dying might be theirs in moments.

Erahndira didn’t care much. No, not much at all.

Neither, by his stance and touch—he was stroking her tail just now—did John Airkhart.

In companionable silence, they watched the last three golden flares: from the Street halfway to the Effor Gate; the middle of the Merchants Quarter; and the Merchant’s Guild Tower.

“Ready now,” John said. Erahn saw the slightest up curve of his lips, the tiniest crinkle at the corner of his eye. “Wonder what it will look like?” John Airkhart might have been on holiday by his tone.

He turned to her.

Smile she did, for herself and for him. Damn the future; Erahndira had all she wanted now.

A loud, powerful voice: “Emeth!” and a glowing golden corona domed the Plaza of Dying Suns.

Together, they said, “Oooh!”

* * *

The sound of clashing chains was heard clear across the distance. Jane and Elian watched the violet column of light blaze up from the Street.

It was over five miles away, but still fat and almost too bright to look at. Against the dead white of the city, the three pillars, orange, red, and violet, were startling and quite beautiful.

The Plaza appeared to have translucent, light filled giants in it as well. Lines in the three colours of the columns currently erected, crisscrossed the open ground between the celebrants of the Working. It was too far to make out much detail.

A sharp increase in the noise from beyond the wall caused their heads to snap around. The mages weren’t moving around much, but the light beyond them was much more energetic.

There was something different about the Rakhesh; some of them anyway. They seemed to be sparkling. A nod from Elian showed he had noticed it as well.

Together, they walked across the rooftop a staked out a spot overlooking the battle.

The silver horses themselves weren’t the ones sparkling; some of them carried collections of silver-white sparkles on their backs. It was just possible to make out movement. They had to be riders of some sort.

More reinforcements?

Another type of combatant had arrived as well: centaurs. They gleamed a ruddy gold, their extremities darkened to brown. None had riders; all clutched what at first appeared to be spears.

Spikes of black fire erupted from the tips of them, visibly and audibly distressing the Red God.

In answer to a query from Elian, one of the mages called them Admoio. They were the herders of the Rakhesh. The riders were the Myr, masters of both.

The fight had taken the Red God much closer to the deadline. It looked like the mages and fighters of Glyph were going to have to enter the lists to keep the gods apart.

A sound like the death of worlds roared from the city. Jane glanced back to see a column of indigo light so dark it was almost black spiked from the Merchants Tower.

She returned her attention to the fray.

The battle was close enough now that Jane could follow the action.

The Red God didn’t really look like a single thing at all. Just a loosely bound collection of flickering scarlet lightning bolts.

At no point did Jane see it split, but that seemed to be an imminent possibility. Their allies appeared to spend much of their time trying to make just that happen.

Rakhesh, evidently immune to any of its attacks, dive-bombed it, ploughing right through its mass.

This seemed to cause it some inconvenience as its own attacks slowed somewhat every time such an attack succeeded.

The Admoios’ black lightning attacks seemed to be doing better. They bit into the Red God’s substance, coated its own lightning bolts, and shrivelled them. Some seemed to disappear, though it was hard to tell with the frenetic spitting and jumping what those bolts did.

The Red God reacted to those by lashing out with its own bolts, occasionally catching one of the Admoio.

If it inconvenienced them, they showed no sign.

It was the Myr who seemed to cause the most damage.

They rode Rakhesh through the Red God and emerged dragging bits of it with them. The result was almost comic.

Like taffy, the red lightning stretched until it finally broke with a crack that echoed off the walls. What was clutched by the Myr as it flew free darkened and shrivelled until it disappeared altogether.

The Red God made an awful screeching each time this happened but did not appear noticeably diminished by these assaults.

Slowly, it continued crawling, flicking out tongues of red fire that gripped the stuff of the road and pulled its bulk forward. It moved in painfully slow increments but made measurable progress.

To Jane’s eyes, it seemed inevitable that the mages and fighters would have to attack it. She wasn’t optimistic that that would have the desired effect either.

A full, encompassing roar, like an enormous waterfall or, perhaps, the rippling of millions of flags enveloped Jane. It startled everyone around her.

She turned in time to see a glorious blue globe of light envelope the glittering, floating pyramid of cards she and Elian had arranged.

They watched in fascination as the sphere expanded and became almost too bright to look at directly.

It rocketed, buzzing, up into the air, leaving a trail of blue light behind.

Their pillar was established.

A shout from behind them.

From along the wall, the clacking of metal on metal and the fizz and glow of sorceries being readied.

The Red God had reached the deadline.

* * *

Erahn watched in awe as bright colour blossomed all along the top of wall facing the assault by the Red God. It lit Glyph up like a motley sunrise. The sounds of spells and of some sort of projectiles followed seconds later.

Both she and John could see the brilliant light reflected off the surfaces of the nearest spheres. For the first time, the cat-woman gained a sense of close the balls were. The answer was ‘very.’ She wondered if that was usually the case.

The former Custodian’s hand was resting on her right hip as they watched the spectacle. She had her left arm around his neck, forearm dangling down his chest.

They both squeezed, pulling the other closer as the lights began to stutter and flash. Many jets of grey smoke shot out over the city.

“What the hell…?” John.

“The smoke?”

John nodded.

“They’re rockets, ya.”

“Huh?”

She had just begun to explain what rockets were when world ended.

A cacophonous noise hammered them, coming from the direction of the lightshow.

They both flinched and covered their ears as this new sound washed over them.

After a few seconds, Erahn looked up again to see the display hadn’t changed much.

The Red God was under direct attack from the city. The firing continued for a long while.

Those in the Plaza of Dying Suns seemed not to take note of the event. Maybe it was the distance that obscured their reaction, or maybe they already knew it would happen.

Five glowing giants could just be seen in the center of the Plaza: Orange through to Blue. The next one should be—

Green!

A giant form, feminine by the flowing attire, sprang up. Something large and oval was in her hands. It appeared to catch the light and throw it forward.

A moment later, six more nobles in the circle around the Plaza also presented themselves and green lines lit up the pavement.

A sound came from the Mercenaries Quarter below, loud enough to be heard over the din coming from the wall. At first, it reminded Erahndira of gunfire, but she later thought of as more akin to whips. It echoed around the city. It was there that the green column sprang up.

One more to go—theirs.

A golden giant, gender indeterminate unfolded, completing the chromatic circle of seven in the center of the square. It held aloft a staff that even from here, the Miu could see had snakes twined around it.

Six more giants filled the last six holes in the outer circle and golden-yellow lines lit up the Plaza of Dying Suns. Now only the small circle inside the seven giants was dark.

The war cries of all the armies of history erupted from behind John and Erahn.

Startled again, the pair spun around to see a brilliant golden glowing sphere expand and rise quickly into the sky.

Like spectators watching acrobats leaping around them, the two turned back to the city.

Four pillars atop the towers; three in the city; a square outside; a triangle inside. The trap, it seemed, was almost set.

It was just then that the battle outside moved within the arch of the Effor Gate—

— Gideon Jagged
Innsmouth, September 2026

© Gideon Jagged
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