Book 3: Sound And Fury

  Ch 13 Superstitious

  “Pontiff Luxor…” His latest mortal sycophant gasped, the man’s portly roundness still jiggling after the short exertion of running from the chapel nave to the sacristy. He’d come scampering, bearing a tightly rolled scroll in his pudgy fist. “Message from the strike force sent to the Swarm dungeon…” The nameless lickspittle proffered the scroll with an unctuous grin on his face. “It seems important…”

  With a disgusted snarl, Lumos snatched the roll of parchment from the man’s gloved fingers. A smile passed his lips, as he felt the bite of a poisoned needle, hidden in the ribbon tying the document closed.

  “So, you thought that would work, did you?” He asked the suddenly pale and still gasping functionary. “Perhaps you thought to plop your bottom on the cubic throne before the hue and cry could arise, becoming the new pontiff yourself?” He asked sweetly, over the blubbering and groveling that was going on.

  Lumos casually unrolled the document and frowned. “Oh, The ink is poisoned too? That’s moderately clever! However, this missive is far more disturbing than your silly little assassination plot… Run and get whoever is currently master of ships and general Hakeem. Swiftly, nameless, faceless fool… while you are still of some use to me.” He waved abstractedly at the dumpy figure in golden brocade and silks who was busily waddling for the door as swiftly as he could, now sweating even more profusely.

  Lumos sank to the throne a few tiresome mortal ‘minutes’ later… Linear time was just one of the inconveniences that his mission had forced him to accept, like using mortals to work his will.

  Fallible, weak and stupid mortals who couldn’t even capture this dungeon lord Ace, who had been so troublesome for so long. “All destroyed… by that filthy bone dragon… again!” He muttered in the silence of the empty chamber.

  Three ships and a handful of mortal cultists were no great loss, but those preserved corpses had been spent so wastefully… It was time to send a clear message, to both the damned Tarots and the mortal flesh who dared defy his will. “The legions of faithful need a reminder of who they serve…” He murmured happily from his throne.

  /

  None of the Foresthome locals were even vaguely curious about what those loons were up to on the lakeshore… No one sought to cross the bridge onto that little point of wasteland they had been squatting on for a few long weeks. The aura of uncanny weirdness drifting over the river into town was too thick and strange to be either ignored or challenged.

  “Friends of the count… They were bound to be odd.” Old Harl the sawmiller grumbled, when asked; which was the general consensus. That sentiment was backed up by a gentle field of denial and repulsion that sent chills down the spines of those who wandered too close to the bridge.

  At the palace, above the inn by the waters, the lady Trelawny Belen-Kinnis was having a very interesting viewing party in her private salon. A select group of notables and a few portraits, painted in startlingly lifelike detail, watched the head of a hoop drum, as a man spoke from the smooth, rawhide surface.

  “It’s a lot, I know. We have some really weird stuff going on…” Said a startlingly handsome man, sketched in a dark ink that may have been at least partially blood based.

  “We all know that human society collapsed on this world, as monsters began invading, shrinking the areas of human control to what remains today… The empire, the twelve duchies and a few assorted free states and kingdoms here and there.” He shrugged and shook his head.

  “There are a few island kingdoms that think they are the last holdouts of humanity… They are generally pretty confused right now.”

  The ink drawn face paused, thinking for a moment. “We should really send envoys to those poor sods.” He grinned wickedly and turned to address a different party, nearby. “Anyway, my fellow divines… What you clowns didn’t figure out, what you should have realized immediately…” He scolded the people just out of view. “Humanity’s troubles and the influx of monsters… It was an outside plot, aided by a small number of our own, from the inside.”

  The sketched man on the drum head held up his hands to forestall some unheard hubbub or protest from the ‘clowns’ he was addressing.

  “So humanity starts getting literally crushed by invading monsters and demons, pushing them physically and magically into a few remaining pockets that continually shrank…”

  He looked askance at his unseen conversation partners. “All the while, your own influence and sight was cut off beyond the ‘fringe’ effect that you never questioned the existence of.”

  He cocked an eyebrow at his silent querents, until he let out a long and pained sigh.

  “I can’t really blame you guys… the plotters took out a hit on Marduk right out of the gate. Without the god of Knowledge to help, the rest of you were just lost.”

  The sketch turned back with a sad smile on his face.

  “That’s where we came in… The late and unlamented Morrigan, her flunkies and a cabal of outsiders pooled their resources and influence to capture mortal souls wholesale… Seizing them as they passed through the void… Thousands? Millions? No one knows how many souls they took and used the same way they used us.”

  Rumbles of disquiet and anger passed through the crowd… Ward only shrugged impassively.

  “When a soul is used in a ritual sacrifice, it dissolves away into its constituents, becoming soul fragments. Those ephemeral particles invariably coalesce back into their constituent soul, no matter how widely scattered they might be. It’s a horrific crime, to be sure and the gods that oversee that area are super pissed about the whole thing…”

  He smiled at the unseen audience on their side of the drum. “Truck-Kun is hanging around and making a lot of you nervous, but he’s a friend, I swear.”

  /

  Nervous chuckles shuddered through the Garies at the mention of Truck-Kun, the god of isekai souls, spiritual misadventure and other forms of inter dimensional soul fuckery.

  “Several entities of… shall we say, cosmic power, have become interested in this domain and in the unusual way that this prime world touches the domain of dungeon worlds.” Ward declared firmly.

  “The unique bond between the Dead World and this one has created a doorway into the nursery of the universe, where entire worlds are nurtured. That is why so many of us found ourselves on dungeon worlds, often as the first sentient to arrive. Of course, that is also what drew the attention of the light cult that has been causing so much trouble.”

  A low rumble of displeasure rose from the Garies on the lawn, until Ward raised his hand for silence. “We will be taking affirmative steps on that grudge soon, brothers. Believe that.” He smiled grimly. “Interestingly, the cult managed to sneak one of their demon pontiffs onto this world a dozen centuries ago.”

  He held up a lumpy red gem the size of a man’s head, as if to illustrate his point. The deep crimson ruby bore veins of silver and gold threaded through its structure, further enhancing its uncanny resemblance to a massive human heart.

  “My boy, the Fool killed her dead… with absolute finality. When he says he killed a few gods and demons, just accept that as fact.”

  Ward glared at the gathered divines and Garies equally, as he continued on. “The fact remains that there was collusion between certain local divines, the fae plotters and the light cult. Long standing and deeply rooted cooperation at least; they may have been in on it from the start…” He shrugged.

  “Either way, those losers are going to pay. Back to our story… Where was I?”

  “Sit down, uncle Ward.” Harry grumbled, as he stepped into the clear space near the hole in reality on the lawn. “He gets all distracted…”

  The youngest Gary in the crowd waved and grinned at his elders.

  “So here it is, long story short; Morrigan and a few goons decided that they wanted this world to be a human free zone, for whatever reason… I don’t really fucking care why.” He nodded at the rumbles of agreement that resounded through the group.

  “To realize that goal, they started off by creating a bunch of mortal demon cults… They no doubt made grand promises of wealth and power to get mortal men and women to punch holes in reality and let monsters swarm in…” He grinned at the gathered Garies. “Which usually resulted in the cultists being the first on the menu.”

  “Next came tricking the god of Knowledge into attaching this world more firmly to the dead world. They set it all up, in order to ‘solve’ the problem that Morrigan and her clowns were busy creating… That left Knowledge weakened and vulnerable just long enough for them to act.” He nodded to the small, golden haired deity across the veil aperture and smiled.

  “Even Marduk can’t remember how they trapped him in the void; how they transformed him into the mostly forgotten and powerless god of Secrets… They did succeed somehow; rendering him nearly inert, drifting in the veil, as Knowledge left this world for untold centuries. This is an old, old scheme and it’s finally unraveling.”

  The young lad’s voice had a weight to it, a gravity and resonance, as he spoke.

  “All around this world, there are; or rather, there were, ritual sites containing soul jars… Arrays of magical batteries powered by mortal souls trapped in eternal torment. Those obscene, occult devices were created to limit the scope and vision of the pantheon, as humans fled from the advancing ‘fringe’ of human lands.” He nodded at the gathered groups and smiled grimly.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  “They were used to open gateways, allowing monsters entrance in large numbers, while repelling sentient mortals in a deeply instinctive way. The rituals of sacrifice and torture involved in their creation render the jars nearly indestructible, creating a problem that lingered for…” He looked up at the moons, sailing high overhead and chuckled.

  “They would have lingered forever, but my pops had other plans… Now there are only a few of those damn things left lying around; deep in the sea or underground, where the light of the Madman’s moon can’t reach.”

  “Soul jars?” Necro muttered from the front row. “We are familiar with those… There are no easy answers to such abominations.”

  Another chuckle arose… This time from the patio, where the non Gary family and friends had gathered to watch Gary-fest, from a safe distance. “We dusted off a half dozen of those a few weeks ago!” Amy catcalled from the cheap seats.

  Mutters of: “Impossible!” and “It can’t be!” drifted up from the crowd.

  “Get good, noobs!” Rio replied firmly. “You guys have a skeleton dragon, a giant spider and whatever Strength is on your side… How are you having so much trouble?”

  “Cheap shot, kid!” Strength bellowed from somewhere in the crowd.

  “Settle down…” Gary made his voice play across the instruments throughout the crowd once again, reigning in his wayward selves.

  “Yes, soul jars can be opened… It’s easy once you learn the trick. Then you just need to spark off the pickled corpse inside… Be careful, they burn really hot and throw fireworks… It’s awesome.”

  He eyed the gathered Garies and shook his head. “What gives? What’s with the vibe, alla sudden?”

  “It’s a deeply private matter, we’ll discuss it another time, brother.” Necro mumbled softly. “It touches on our family’s deepest secrets.”

  “Not ominous at all…” Gary grumbled. “But, I suck at keeping secrets, so let’s get back to it.”

  There were a few discontented rumbles in the crowd, but the majority overruled them. “Where were we… Souls… Souls captured for foul deeds, used once and then dispersed, not harmlessly, but at least they could escape. Until they found us, just by chance.” He smiled grimly at his gathered brothers and sisters.

  “Morrigan was so pleased with us, because whenever she broke our soul on her altar, she could collect the pieces and use us again and again. Eventually we started fracturing off into smaller bits that didn’t really fit too well anymore, as she broke us again and again.”

  “Here we are; so many mad Garies…” He spread his arms to encompass the group on the lawn. “And so many more, in our legions; scattered, lost, or slain across all creation, but all fractured from the same source… and bound together by unbreakable ties. Morrigan kept her filthy crimes a secret so long that eventually, there were too many failure points in us as we began to really come apart…”

  Boring and blandly forgettable Gary clapped his hand onto the shoulder of his far more handsome and interesting brother, the Death god.

  “Ward here was the one who blew up first, I think. He detonated and killed every sentient being within six miles with his death-cry. Poor guy got his heart cut out, then got trapped in his own fossilized ticker; existing as a ghost for like, almost a thousand years.”

  “I didn’t keep count…” Ward mumbled, uncharacteristically soft spoken on the matter.

  “Anyway, the whole time thing is super abstract and all screwed up, since in the lands of the fae, time is and always has been, super tricky. Even though Ward spent who knows how long hanging around, nothing happened until I came along.” He shrugged sheepishly at the gathered people all around.

  “That’s the Fool’s role, for good or ill.”

  “Yes, Fool, very well.” Necro mumbled angrily. “Tell us more about how you deal with immortals! We all thought that was some power of Borrowed Snake…” The handsome deity in black, shot Necro a withering glare as the senior Gary misspoke.

  “Excuse me... Of Ward’s. We assumed his was the power to imprison immortals in some way…”

  “Nope, that power comes from me and that’s all I’ll say about it. The gods are listening and they’ve tried to shut me down before.” Gary’s baleful gaze found the wounded goddess once again, searing into her eyes through the hole in the veil.

  “Which brings me back to the matter before us today… Dana, goddess of Healing.”

  “Actually…” Shai’s voice cut through, resonating through the instruments and shutting Gary down; in the same way he’d been doing to the others all evening. “Tis mine, the prosecution of this case, since yer own self were but a wee bairn, a victim, while under my own care…” She shook her head and grumbled softly.

  “Sir Pangbourne made it clear; yer own self were, under the laws of the world, a babe newly born when we pult ye back into the world…”

  She blushed and glared at the gathered spectators as whispers began to spread. “Tis a technicality! He were a man fully grown when we met! He were in his full mind after we brought him back… Tis only a matter of the law that me husband were a baby… Technically, mind thee! Technically!”

  She waved an iron hard finger at the gathered idiots, who were smirking and making their eyebrows do that thing. All of them, even the women… and the damned spider.

  “Gods above, my life do be a passing strange one…” She complained to the gathered divines.

  No aid came from the luminous realms, as even the most friendly divines did their best to seem inconspicuous under her glare.

  “That does mean that her divine ladyship, Dana the Healer has wronged two bairns that do dwell under my roof… My son, Harry whom ye struck without cause or need. Also my husband; whom ye had cursed. Wrongfully cursed as a newly born babe… Technically!” Her finger waggled again, forestalling any giggles from the idiots.

  “I shall have the settling of this feud and you all shall be abiding by my word… All of thee.” Her glare of matronly disapproval swept over the entire gathering, encompassing even the flying bug girls; who soberly fluttered over and settled down without any further flitting about.

  “Gary, release thy curse on lady Dana, immediately.” She ordered calmly. “I have the settling of this matter.” She murmured, when he balked.

  With great care, he slipped under the rope of dangling fetishes and sutras; sliding beneath without jostling the delicate thing. He wound up kneeling beside his clay bowl, the one containing a small idol, standing in a pool of evil liquor and his own blood.

  “Aww, man…” The mad musician complained weakly, as he carefully scratched through several of the delicate runes on the rim of his ugly, unglazed pottery bowl with an iron tipped stylus. “It’s so rare to get a god at a disadvantage…”

  “Shut up, love of mine.” Shai scolded gently, pitched so only he could hear.

  “Lady Dana, blessed divine Healer… I offer ye contract with my husband’s soul… if ye dare touch him.” Shai announced loudly, startling the entire gathering into an even deeper level of stunned silence. “A test of courage and faith… If ye will.”

  “Hey now!” Gary griped, blasting his wife with a very angry glare of his own. “I never…”

  “Pipe down, boy. Yer wife be taking this matter in hand.” She admonished him firmly, with another finger waggle and a sly wink, just for him.

  “It will destroy me… I know it.” Dana spoke in a voice so small she could barely be heard, even in a garden so silent that each person’s own heartbeat seemed too loud to bear. “It hates us, it hates me.”

  “Yeah, I kinda do…” The Fool grumbled just as softly. “Authority figures in general are not my favorites… Legal, religious and medical authorities are especially noxious.” He grumbled sourly.

  “You, my dear lady Healer, are all three… And a pompous, insufferable, rich-bitch. Your crew are all suck ups and you have zero humility.”

  He grinned crookedly at her and chuckled. “Half of the problem between us is my damage… The other half is all yours to deal with.” He shrugged in surrender. “Shai is the brains of the operation; I’ve never gone wrong following her advice.”

  He paused, awaiting some movement on the other side, before stepping up.

  “Go on, boy, dinnae make an oath breaker of me. Offer lady Dana yer hand.”

  With a grimace of distaste, Gary held his palm to the shredded and tattered lace of the veil, waiting.

  “If you reach out, I promise he will nae hurt thee.”

  “It can’t be trusted!” Dana barked, as she attempted to withdraw more fully behind her minions, cushions and sumptuous draperies. “It will surely destroy me!”

  “I thought not, divine lady…” Shai shot a smug grin at the goddess, one that was very satisfied with both her husband and the outcome of her offer.

  “Then ye have no further claim on my lad… whatever ye may decide later. That path is closed tae thee.” Her voice rang with utter finality, like the slamming of a heavy door.

  “As for yer blood debt… We will suspend those talks for a time. I will notify thee when the decision is made. Until then, I release thee on yer parole.” She held that long, strong finger up again, while she made her demands clear. “As long as ye do no further mischief with my family… Including yer stricture denying yer clerics entry intae my home. That too, must end.”

  Dana made the barest nod, hardly a perceptible gesture under normal circumstances. “Good. We release thee on parole indefinitely.” Shai snapped sharply at the divines. “Close this abomination, boy; ‘ere some nightmare drift across the void to trouble our dreams… For I am taking thee up tae bed. This meeting is done.”

  Several mouths opened to protest, only to be silenced by her glare.

  “If ye cause any ruckus, I’ll be having words with ye…” She warned, as she dragged her mate off to bed. “Fie, ye have done yerself nearly unconscious…”

  Shai’s complaints drifted on the evening air, as the rift between worlds slowly closed and the night birds began their songs.

  “He’s still pretty messed up and unranked…” Ward mumbled awkwardly, as his form became slightly insubstantial.

  “The long and short of it is this… We all kinda belong together, but we don’t fit together any more. The universe is largely insistent that we should get smushed back together, which is now impossible. That makes us individual mortal souls… With some weird connections and similarities that make us troublesome to the gods and difficult to reconcile with more firmly established realities.”

  Ward paused to stuff his pipe, displaying a satisfied smile, once it was properly lit and emitting a spicy and resinous scent into the garden.

  “We break and bend a lot of the rules, just by virtue of the way we exist. Every sentient being’s gaze has a weight to it, a metaphysical mass. In a lot of ways, without sentient minds to perceive reality and interpret it, much of the universe grinds to a halt.”

  Ward lowered his voice, suggesting a secret was in the offing. “The other divines and immortals don’t want us to know… I’m supposed to keep my yap shut. But they aren’t the boss of me… of us.” He shook his head and smiled.

  “We are an aberration; with so many of us, all experiencing the universe in so many ways, with so many different senses and sensibilities… We create an outsized ripple in reality wherever our gaze may fall, since there are so many of us and we’re all naturally connected in ways that are deeply spooky and weird.”

  Giggles rose from the crowd as the implications began sinking in among those more magically minded. “What that means is: Where we gaze, reality becomes more or less rigid and inflexible… If we can learn to control our Minds and Wills.” Ward looked out on the garden of him-selves and smiled benignly.

  “I suspect we will all come away from this outing with a few new tricks up our sleeves…” With a quick spin and a twirl of his long, batwing coat, Ward dashed off into the crowd; following another black clad figure into the darkness.

  “Necro… You and I really need to talk about the vast army of restless ghosts in your shadow!” The two men vanished into the woods together, headed for the long path that led to the ancient necropolis grove above the city.

  “Each of those is a tragedy that should be brought to a quiet ending in peaceful rest and reincarnation…”

  “That’s it for now, brothers… rest, consider and meditate on what is to come…” The goblin king called out into the crowd, his voice ringing with authority and firm guidance.

  “Those two will return before dawn… they have death magic to work together.”

  Ghnash sighed happily as Sabrina leapt into his arms, now that the humans were dispersing a bit. “I do funerals and lay ghosts, but my focus is on the living… and only the living. The dead, I leave to them.”

  His broad, green hand rubbed the goblin queen’s flat tummy, over her spider silk robe; eliciting a wiggle and a giggle from her. “I’m all about the future.”

  “Oh, yeah! Congrats, you two, it’s a boy…” Amy murmured around a groundworm kebab with extra sauce. “Wait… Twins? Two boys?” The blue clad girl leaned closer to the queen and gave her a good long looking at, before shaking her head in confusion. “Twin sons, but you are only carrying one… the other is somewhere else.” She announced firmly to the goblin royals.

  “Nub nub.” The king muttered quietly. “Nub. Only daughters for Ghnash… Goblin boys all cursed with…” He trailed off there, his eyes wide and filled with wonder. “A son… Two sons?”

  “I will bite baby-sister Chelsea for stealing my second babe… But not too savagely, I think.” Sabrina muttered. “I would have brought her, were it not for that magic mouth of hers.” She swatted Ghnash across his chops with a low growl. “And you… Wretched king! I want another baby in me, right now…”

  She glared up at him from her seat on his lap and growled again a brief moment later. “Well? Where is he?”

  “He’s upstairs in Wilf’s house. Let’s go find him together! You look under the bed, step-majesty…” Ghnash muttered quietly, while dragging his wife out toward the smaller house by the waterside.

  “Nub gruk yer fancy highland blah… mountain gob man… But Sabbie gruk yer baby-maker…” She cooed in her marsh tribe dialect, just cause she knew it turned his majesty on. “I has a mojo mouth too, wicked gobbo! Chelsea taught me her tricks!”

  “Well…” Gandree muttered awkwardly, as Daisybelle began dragging him away toward his own home, erected near Rio’s and Amys, higher above the waterline. “Daze… I’m talking to our new friends…” He protested, as the little green girl manhandled him.

  “They will be our friends still, tomorrow… Now, I would sleep… Becoming diurnal is difficult for me. Daywalking silly-dwarf, goblins are not so comfortable under the bright bright sun!” She hauled him away into the garden, leaving the Ragamuffins on the patio with Barry, Lindsey and Flash.

  “Lady Tawny said you were infalible when it comes to… well, you know…” The lanky girl murmured to Amy. “Is it true? About two siblings in different wombs?”

  “Oh, yeah, it’s unmistakable… even though I’ve never seen anything like it before.” The admiral mumbled sleepily. “I’m too exhausted to sleep, but you should all turn in early.”

  /