Chapter 39
A Dread Tide Rising by Walt Shuler
It’s Monday, and here’s the penultimate chapter of ADTR! One more (plus the epilogue) to go. I’ll likely drop the epilogue with chapter 40 next Monday since it’s short and doesn’t work as a standalone. Who’s ready?
Previously: Mac got up close and personal with one of the shapeshifters, who escaped before Mac could get any real answers.
Currently: Kye and Molly encounter a god, a priest, and a magician.
A Dread Tide Rising is a serialized, pulp-flavored, epic fantasy novel that follows the Talon, a group of mercenaries, thieves, and smugglers, as they come face-to-face with an ancient enemy intent on the destruction of the Rakkian Empire.
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Chapter 39
The acrid smell of dead ash burned Kye’s nostrils.
“Is that Kukai?” Kye managed to choke out. She was drenched with sweat. The heat was incredible this close to the magma flow.
“I think so,” Molly answered, squinting against the glare. “We need to get closer.”
“Closer? We’re about to burst into flame right here. How much closer can we get?”
In answer, Molly stood taller and squared her shoulders. “We’ve got to talk to him. We need to know what’s going on here. Something’s terribly wrong.”
Molly’s willingness to push on buoyed Kye’s spirit. She steeled herself against the heat and followed the older woman. Three paces became four, became ten. The heat was almost a physical barrier, pushing against her as she fought to move her foot forward. Eventually, they reached the figure, but it was not what she had expected.
“An idol?” Kye wondered, and those two words took an almost unimaginable effort to speak.
Molly shook her head, drops of sweat slinging from the ends of her hair to steam on the naked stone. “This is Kukai,” she said, kneeling beside the figure. Kye wondered how her voice still carried so much strength.
How was this a god? What Kye had initially taken as a seated figure was little more than a basalt block carved into the rough semblance of a human being. Maybe the heat had finally gotten to Molly, she thought. It was more than enough to drive a person to madness.
Then the god’s eyes opened, flames guttering in those carved sockets, and the stone figure spoke.
“Mother,” it said, the voice low and strange, like stone scraped across stone. “Is it time?” Kukai asked.
“No, Kukai,” Molly soothed. “My name is Molly. This is Kye. We’re two shipwrecked travelers seeking protection and help. Brigands chased us into a cavern, and we followed it to you.”
A sound like steam escaping from a kettle came from the god, and it took Kye a moment to realize it was a sigh.
“Soon, the end must come soon,” he said. Kye thought he sounded sad, if a stone could be said to have emotions.
“Why? What’s happened here? Where are your worshippers? What’s happened to you?” Molly unconsciously reached out to comfort the god but quickly drew her hand back with a hiss of pain.
The god’s eyes flared brighter. “Rot and ruin!” His voice became boulders rolling downhill. “Darkness overtakes the light, leeching my strength. Devourers! Gone, all gone.”
“Gone? You mean your people?” Molly asked.
“All, gone. The tide ripped from the shore.” The flames of Kukai’s eyes dimmed.
“Kukai, you must tell me more,” Molly demanded.
To Kye’s surprise, the dying god’s eyes flared brighter. His voice took on new strength, great stones crushing themselves to dust. “They come! Beware them, new and old, two faces of the same coin. They steal from us, drinking, culling, growing!”
Then the light faded from his eyes, and his voice became the barest whisper. “My people, my people, why have you gone? Mother, it is time. I come.” Kukai said no more. The sense of life and power that had marked his body faded to nothing, mere stone now.
Kye gasped, struck by the sense that she had witnessed something almost unimaginable, the death of a god. Sadness settled into her heart then. She glanced toward Molly, expecting to see the same emotion mirrored on her face, but instead, she saw alarm quickly replaced by anger, then bone-deep grief.
“Is he really gone?” Kye asked. “Can a god truly die?”
Molly nodded slowly. “He is gone to wherever gods go at the end.” She stood and motioned for Kye to follow. “Come, there’s nothing else here. We need to get you to Astra as quickly as possible.”
Something about the other woman’s tone bothered Kye. “What’s going on, Molly?”
“I’m not certain. Something siphoned Kukai’s powers away. That’s what he was trying to tell us. He didn’t die; he was murdered.” She said nothing further but led Kye away from the dead god, choosing one of the paths seemingly at random. As they journeyed, one thought consumed Kye: who could possibly murder a god and, more importantly, why?
✸✸✸
The trek out of the cave took the better part of two days. Water was not a problem because springs were relatively plentiful, although the water tasted more strongly of sulfur by the mile. Food was another thing entirely. Kye was unsure how long she and Molly had gone without before reaching the dying god. Her stomach said it was somewhere between a day and two.
By the time they stumbled out of a low, wide cave mouth, both women struggled to do more than put one foot in front of the other. They crested a low rise and Kye almost wept at the sight; a wide, well-trod road ran down from the cave, winding its way over and around several low hills, right to a small village. Smoke trailed from the chimneys of sod houses, and in the distance, the sea glinted under the light of the setting sun.
“Wait,” Kye muttered. She did a double-take, convinced that her hunger was causing her to see things, but no, her initial impression was correct. The sun was setting into the western sea. “We crossed the entire island underground?”
Molly grinned. “The Fingers are all long and narrow,” she said. She studied the village for a moment, then turned to look behind them. Kye followed her example. It was all low, rolling hills as far as the eye could see, rising higher toward the island’s center.
“I think we’re on Altus,” Molly said after a moment. “That’s good news; Astra lives here. I was worried the storm might have blown us off course. Hardeshan should be somewhere south of us unless I’m completely disoriented.” She turned back to the west and started down the road to the village. “We’ll get more information down there, as well as food.” She thought for another moment. “We should also find the village priest; we should let them know about poor Kukai.”
Kye said nothing, surprised that Molly could decipher their location with such accuracy and so little information. Truth be told, she was more worried about getting something in her belly. However, Molly’s final statement sparked a thought new to her. What happened to a land when its god died?
The village turned out to be farther away than it looked. It took the pair almost an hour to reach the broad gate. A steady trickle of villagers and farmers made their way in and out, and no guards were visible. Kye and Molly entered and quickly found the temple, one of the only stone buildings in the village, and located on the other side of the central square.
A massive lintel stone supported by two equally large stone posts made up the temple’s doorway. The door, made of light-colored, fancifully carved wood, was thrown wide to admit the winter sunshine. Molly ducked to enter, but Kye paused to stare at the door. It was old, and the carvings were heavily weathered. She thought she could pick out people in boats following another boat with two people aboard. Another scene showed the couple again, but one of them was gesturing to what looked like a chain of islands. Was this a depiction of the Landing?
“Kye, are you coming?” Molly called. Kye shook her head to clear it and entered the temple proper. It was warmer inside than she had expected, and the air was filled with an intoxicating fragrance, lightly floral, but touched with a hint of woodsmoke. Kye sniffed the air, trying to identify the scent.
“It’s ayasa,” Molly said, answering Kye’s unasked question. “It’s a tree that only grows in the Fingers. Some say that the wood is holy and beloved of Mali. The trees love the soil here in the islands, and the priests say that Kukai’s reverence for Mali is why.”
A priest appeared, preventing Kye from asking any of the questions Molly’s explanation brought up. He was an older man, perhaps in his sixth decade of life. Dark, curly hair had turned to gray and hung down to the collar of his gray robe. The symbol of Kukai, a stylized owl holding a flame in its talons, was picked out on his chest in red and gold thread.
“Welcome!” His smile was wide, warm, and genuine. “It’s not often we get travelers to Aedelburgh, much less here at the temple. What can we do for you?” He looked them over, curiosity gleaming in his blue eyes. “You don’t look like typical devotees of Kukai.” The priest beckoned them to follow him and guided them from the entry to the temple’s nave.
Molly shook her head. “We’re not devotees. We sailed from Rakka to the Fingers, bound for the village of Pau. We have business with Astra; she lives near there. Our ship sank in a storm off the coast, and we’ve made our way here afoot.”
“And with no baggage? Lost, I’d assume. And you’re likely famished!” the priest said, his bright eyes missing no detail.
Molly smiled gently. “We lost everything. It’s been days since we ate, but Kukai was kind enough to slake our thirst as we walked.”
The priest bowed his head at the mention of his god’s kindness. “I’m grateful that your journey was not more eventful,” he said.
“There is a matter of both immediacy and delicacy that I must speak with you about, Father. You are the senior-most member of your order here?”
Confusion and then concern washed over the priest’s face. “Yes, I’m Father Cuthbert, the senior priest here. Bishop Oliman is my senior, but he’s a three-day journey away. If your news is urgent, I can hear it, but if you have time, the Bishop has seniority.”
Molly shook her head. “It’s urgent, but I think you are the right man to entrust this information to, Father. Could we speak somewhere private?”
The concern on Father Cuthbert’s face deepened. “Of course, come with me,” he said, gesturing toward a closed door. Molly motioned for Kye to remain in the nave. Feeling excluded, Kye nodded and slouched onto one of the stone benches that populated the space. She sat quietly for a few moments, but then her stomach growled loudly. More to take her mind off her gnawing hunger than anything else, she decided to explore.
She had never been inside a Kukaian temple before, and it was a new experience. Not that she had frequented temples of the other gods, of course. The Faceless did not pray to any one god, although Mali, as the goddess of the sea and luck, probably received the most prayers. Tel-Av, the Builder, had been Rakka’s god, at least until the One God’s religion began spreading. Kye knew many thieves who worshipped no gods (other than gold itself) or who had converted to the Emperor’s religion, whether that was out of true belief, a sense of obligation, or just going along to get along. The Builder’s temples were largely silent today, his worship all but forgotten.
She moved around the nave, studying as she went. The Kukaians showed a love of adornment. Most of the walls were covered in carved reliefs, most showing scenes from nature. Even the benches bore ornamentation. Kye took a moment to study a carving more deeply. It showed a simple forest glade, oaks, hemlocks, and maples interspersed with undergrowth. But as she looked, more details became apparent. Below the trees and shrubs, she could pick out mushrooms and toadstools. Beneath the soil, the artist had carved tree roots, reaching out and intertwining. But there was something else. Root-like structures reached out from the mushrooms, intermingling with the tree roots.
Kye sensed that the image was more than mere decoration, but without someone to explain, it was lost to her. It made sense, though. Kukai was renowned as the god of knowledge, despite being confined to The Fingers. Maybe the priests had created these carvings to preserve and communicate information.
The sound of the door opening cut her contemplation short. Molly and Father Cuthbert emerged, the priest’s expression doleful. Molly touched him on the shoulder, and he brightened a little. “I’ll carry word to the Bishop personally,” he told her. “In the meantime, we must feed you and outfit you for the trek to Pau.”
Molly beckoned Kye to follow as the priest led the way toward the back of the nave and a small wooden door. The door opened onto an unprepossessing hallway, which led to the kitchens and refectory. “Please, sit,” Father Cuthbert said, indicating they could take a seat at any of the tables. Molly chose one close to the kitchens, and Kye sat beside her.
“How did it go?” Kye asked, trying to keep her tone neutral.
Realization dawned in Molly’s eyes. “I’m sorry I left you out, Kye,” she apologized.
Kye shook her head, trying to brush it away, but Molly was having none of it. “No, I didn’t stop to think how that would make you feel. I’m sorry.”
Kye gave her a shy smile. “How did it go? What will Father Cuthbert do with Kukai dead?”
Molly opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted by several novices in gray robes. Each bore a tray piled high with food. Kye’s stomach growled loudly at the sight. Fresh dark bread, golden honey and butter, grilled meat and fish, and ripe fruit soon sated her hunger.
“I suppose it went as well as it could,” Molly said many minutes later, dipping her fingers into a bowl of clear water to clean them. “He was hesitant to believe me. Honestly, he thought I was trying to trick him at first for personal gain.”
“How were you able to convince him?”
Molly shook her head. “It wasn’t anything I said. I told him about Kukai’s deserted cave, how his body had cooled and hardened, and what he said about his powers being stolen.” She dipped a fig in honey and took a delicate bite. “Eventually, I could see that he was beginning to wonder. He didn’t want to believe. He intends to send another priest and an acolyte into the caves to verify, but you could see the realization in his eyes when he reached out to pray, and there was no answer.”
“Is that how it works?” Kye asked. She had never really prayed before, at least not seriously. She had said snippets of prayers here and there, more superstitions than anything.
“Not for folks like you or me,” Molly answered. “When we pray, we wait for some sign that the gods have heard us and sent an answer to our prayer. Maybe the boy we like says he likes us back,” she said with a wink. “Or the harvest is good, or the lambing goes well.”
She trailed off, staring toward the doorway where Father Cuthbert had gone. “It’s different with priests. They have a direct connection, from what I’m told. It’s not like you and me talking together, though. It’s more about sensations and emotions. But it’s real and more than human. When he couldn’t feel Kukai at all, well, I could see the fear deep in his eyes.”
What must that be like, Kye wondered, to suddenly have such a connection vanish. She did not know Father Cuthbert, but suddenly her heart ached for the man and what he had lost. Kye turned back to her food but found she had little appetite.
“What next?” She asked, pushing back from the table.
“Father Cuthbert has promised us supplies for our journey and directions,” Molly answered, pushing away her unfinished meal. “He can spare no mounts nor guards, though. He did say the road to Pau is well marked and usually safe.”
Kye remembered the brigands on the beach and wondered, but kept the thought to herself. Father Cuthbert and two acolytes appeared then, carrying packs loaded with food, gear, and water. Gratitude washed over Kye. Deep sadness marked the Father’s face, but it looked like he had thought of everything the two women would need on their journey.
Not wanting to waste any daylight, Molly and Kye chose to press ahead. They could get at least a little way on the road toward Pau and spend fewer days on the road.
“It should take you three, maybe four days to reach Pau,” Father Cuthbert said as he guided them back to the town’s gate. “Take the road north, and shortly after it crosses the East-West Tradeway, you’ll take the left-hand fork toward the sea. Pau lies that way.”
“Thank you, Father, for your kindness. I know this is an incredibly difficult time, but remember what I told you,” Molly said, taking Father Cuthbert’s hand in her own.
Father Cuthbert nodded, tears in his eyes. Kye wondered briefly what Molly might have said to him, but her eagerness to get moving pushed it from her mind. They were only days from their destination. She wondered what Astra would be like. What would the mage think of her? Suddenly nervous, Kye wished they were anywhere else.
Molly gave the Father’s hand a last squeeze of comfort, adjusted her pack, and turned to Kye. “Ready?” she asked, eyes bright. Kye nodded, although her earlier excitement had dimmed. Without fanfare, the pair began their trek northward toward Pau, Astra, and a new chapter in Kye’s life.
✸✸✸
It took Kye and Molly only three days to reach Pau. The journey was largely uneventful, and Kye was thankful for that. She had had enough excitement for a while, between shipwrecks, brigands, and subterranean visits with dying gods. She would not argue if the trend continued, and Pau looked like the perfect place for that.
Kye and Molly stood on a small rise overlooking the village. The road wound downward toward the sea, and Pau nestled between several larger hills about a mile from the coast. Kye could just make out a collection of fishermen’s shacks hard against the water.
Smoke drifted gently from the village’s homes in the gentle breeze. The sky was clear, the air crisp but warming, and despite the lack of creature comforts on their journey, she felt rested and ready for whatever might be coming next. Kye’s eye followed a brown smudge out of Pau headed northward. Was it her imagination, or could she make out a dwelling out there all alone? Could that be Astra’s home?
“Not far now,” Molly confirmed. “Ready?”
Kye nodded, and they turned their steps toward Pau. Entering the village, Kye was struck by the resemblance to Aedelburgh. Like the larger town, the houses here were constructed of sod. Most had chimneys at one end of the home. Unlike Aedelburgh, there did not seem to be a temple to Kukai anywhere visible. A bell and bell-house stood at the center of the village, Kukai’s owl and flame emblem emblazoned in peeling red paint. They passed several villagers out and about, some returning with the morning’s catch, others pulling weeds from backyard gardens. The smell of freshly baked bread from somewhere tantalized Kye. A couple of villagers waved greetings as the pair passed, but most gave them little more than a glance.
“Why are they so unfriendly?” Kye asked as they neared the northern edge of the village.
“They’re not truly unfriendly. Outsiders are rare and, as often as not, they’re threats,” Molly answered. “The village has few means to defend itself against raiders. Their best defense is to be unobtrusive in the hopes that anyone interested in pillage is looking for richer pickings.”
To Kye, who had grown up surrounded by the heaving, boisterous sea of humanity that called Rakka home, it seemed a strange way to live.
“Who’s responsible for protecting them?”
Molly shrugged. “Their local lord, technically, but chances are good he’s so far away that any action would be revenge rather than defense.”
Kye felt a strange tug at her heart. It was an odd duality, an idyllic existence by all measures but one, fraught with danger at all times. She wondered if she would have the strength to live with such ambiguity. And then they were on the way out of the village. The north road stretched ahead, rutted brown earth bordered by lush green grass and crowned by blue sky and white clouds. Kye soon forgot her concern, lost in the beauty of the world around her and thoughts of the future.
“How long will my training take?” she asked, suddenly realizing they had spoken very little about what would happen after they reached Astra’s.
Molly thought for a moment. “I don’t know, to be honest. My understanding is that the process is different for every student. Some master what they need to know in a few weeks or months. Others spend years trying to hone their talents.”
“Years?” Kye was not at all excited about that prospect.
Molly laughed. “Relax, given what Gorm and the others said about your abilities, I don’t think you need to worry about that. It’s going to be more about learning to control yourself and tap into your powers when you need them.”
Kye relaxed a little at that. Then, “Why do you think I couldn’t do anything before? With the bandits on the beach, I mean.” She could still feel the echo of her rising power, then the sudden dissipation and sense of emptiness.
“I’m not sure I’m the best one to ask about that,” Molly answered diplomatically. “Astra would probably know more. If I had to guess, it likely has something to do with the last time you used your abilities. When you sank the ships about to attack Sparrowhawk.”
Kye said nothing, but in her heart, she thought Molly was right. She could still see the ships aflame and the water churning beneath them. Behind it all was Mattie’s pallid face. Her gorge rose, and Kye hastily shoved those thoughts away.
Seeing her reaction, Molly guessed at the cause. “You’ll have to deal with that before you can control your power,” she warned.
Kye nodded, not trusting herself to speak. They traveled for some time in silence, then Astra’s home eventually came into view. It was larger than anything in the village and not made of sod. Instead, a two-story stone tower dominated the area, with a single-story home attached to the side. A wattle fence enclosed a small yard where a couple of chickens clucked and hunted after insects.
“Looks cozy,” Molly noted.
“It does,” Kye agreed, but now that they were here, doubts assailed her. Was she truly gifted enough to warrant this? Would it be wiser to ignore her power and let it lie? What if Astra hated her?
“Come on, let’s go meet her,” Molly said, taking Kye’s hand. Together, the two of them walked down the hill, through the wooden gate, and up to the door. Molly knocked and called out, “Astra? Are you home?”
“Alanna, if that’s you, I told you to come back in a week. The potion won’t be ready until then,” a woman’s voice called from inside.
“We’re not here for a potion,” Molly called back, a small smile playing across her mouth.
Kye heard footsteps from inside, then a gray-headed woman appeared. Despite the gray and the lines on her face, her dark eyes were bright, and her step was surprisingly quick.
“I don’t know who…” Astra began, and then she registered who stood in front of her. “Molly?”
“In the flesh,” Molly grinned.
With a squeal of delight, Astra rushed from the stoop and wrapped Molly in a hug, one that the other woman returned wholeheartedly.
“Let me get a look at you,” Astra said, holding Molly out at arm’s length. “Gods, the years have been good to you.”
Molly smiled at the compliment. “You’re looking well, too, Astra.”
Astra turned sharp eyes on Kye. “And who is this, then, your daughter?”
Molly laughed. “I’d be honored if she were, but no. This is Kye. She’s a promising weather worker, but there are…complications.”
“Ah, I see,” Astra said, expression turning studious. She released Molly and took Kye’s hands in her own, then closed her eyes. Kye was unsure what was supposed to happen, then she felt a touch on her mind, feather-light, but very real. The touch grew more persistent, and a chill ran down Kye’s spine.
Astra opened her eyes and released Kye’s hands. “She definitely has talent, Molly. More than I’ve seen in some time. But she’s built walls around it.” She looked Kye in the eye. “Those walls will be the death of you, girl.”
“Do you think you can help?” Molly asked. “She needs to learn how to master her abilities.”
Astra gave Kye a speculative look. “If she’s willing to put in the hard work, I’m willing to try.” She turned to Molly. “But you owe me a favor; like for like, right?”
Molly nodded, face solemn. “Like for like, Astra, as always.”
Astra grinned then. “It’s settled! You’ll stay with me,” she told Kye. “And you’ll come back at the end of spring, Molly. Should be enough time to whip this one into shape if she doesn’t shy from the effort.”
Molly looked torn but embraced Kye. “This is where we part ways, I suppose.” She cupped Kye’s cheek in one hand. “Listen to Astra. You can trust her. The fact that she remembers me after all these years should set your mind at ease about certain things.” She gave Kye a meaningful look, and the girl realized she meant the shapeshifters. “Do what you need to do. Most of all, trust in the process. It will be hard, but nothing good ever comes without some struggle.”
Kye nodded, not trusting herself to speak. The idea of going months without the other woman was suddenly a horrifying thought. But Molly turned and began making her way back up the hill toward the road.
“Come now, come now,” Astra said. “Let’s go inside and get to know one another better.” She took one of Kye’s hands and gently led her to the doorway.
Kye stepped through the doorway and into Astra’s kitchen. Herbs hung drying from the rafters, and a rough-hewn table dominated the space, covered with parchment, pots, and bric-a-brac. Astra closed the door with a thump. Kye turned to look out the window, hoping to catch one last glimpse of Molly before she settled into her new life, but the hillside was empty. Molly was nowhere to be seen.
“Well then, this is an interesting situation, isn’t it?” Astra asked, but something was wrong with her voice. Alarmed, Kye whirled toward the other woman. The figure that stood there looked nothing like the older woman she remembered. It was taller, slimmer, and the flesh flowed like molten wax. Sea-green eyes regarded her from a face that was reinventing itself.
“Let’s see what’s holding you back from your full potential, shall we?” Astra said, her face solidifying into a new form. She was ageless, with high cheekbones and an aquiline nose, her face framed by deep black hair. Her skin was the color of shallow sea water, and her eyes the green of the depths; salt tang stung Kye’s nose. Astra raised a hand, and darkness descended. Kye knew no more.
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Hmm, Molly is a lot more than she seems…. And how is this the second last chapter?!
This was the chapter that made me so upset! I remember getting here and thinking there's no way I can LIVE until i find out what happens. What I really love is that we've gotten some truth to the tales of the gods we've heard for the whole book. It took a turn that I think feels very right with Molly. A god within a lair of lava. RIGHT ON!