Raven's Strike (Raven #2)(134)

"Why did you call My name, Bard?" The voice was deep and rich.

Tier stopped walking and turned to face the god who'd appeared next to him without a sound or any warning, just his words in a rich bass that part of Tier could not help but want to hear in song, just once.

There was not much else impressive about him. He appeared to be a man a little shorter than average and slight of build. His hair and eyes were as dark as Tier's own.

"Why do you hesitate, Bard?" He said with a small smile that sent chills down Tier's spine. This was not the Weaver. "Do you seek to form lies that might please Me?"

"No," answered Tier truthfully. "It just occurred to me that I'm not certain what the real truth is. The simple answer is that we only had the one name."

"So you called upon Me because you could not call upon My brother? Is there another answer?"

Tier decided to trust his instincts. "I think the barrier the Weaver created limits His ability to work in this world. I think He has interfered all that He can already. If we'd had both names, we would have called upon the Weaver." He took a deep breath. "And we would have failed. The Weaver can do no more to help us."

The Stalker raised his hands. "And you think that I will? Now when My servant, My slave has loosened the bonds that hold Me? He will not have to take many more Orders before I am able to do whatever pleases Me."

"He is not Your servant, nor Your slave," said Tier. "He is a thief who snuck into Your prison and stole Your power without so much as a by-your-leave."

"Even as you have called My Name, Bard, so I must answer like a dog answers the call of his master." The words were bitter and angry, but neither emotion was reflected in the Stalker's face or voice.

"While we speak my family faces the Shadowed on their own," said Tier, then sucked in a breath. You can do better than this, he thought. "I can only apologize for my discourtesy. Offending You is the last thing I wish to do. We need Your help to defeat the Shadowed."

"Indeed," said the god. "What will you give me for this help? Who will you sacrifice? Your wife? One of your children? The Emperor, perhaps?"

"I will not," Tier said, his blood turning to ice in his veins. "But I will give you myself."

"Will you?" said the god, his voice hushed. He reached up to cup Tier's chin in his hands.

Pain snaked down Tier's spine, and he heard himself cry out. Nothing, not even Telleridge's hammer slamming down on his knees, hurt so badly. He fell to the ground, and the god knelt with him, keeping that gentle touch that rent and tore without a physical wound.

"Pull away, Bard," said the Stalker. "Pull away, and the pain will stop."

Tier closed his eyes against the voice, pull away and lose any chance for victory. He could not, would not do it.

In the end the god released His hold and stood. "If I could do something about the thieves who take My power without asking, I would have long ago. There is nothing I can do."

"I am a Bard," whispered Tier, curled in a sweating ball on the clean, cold floor. "I can tell when You lie."

For the first time, Tier saw honest emotion on the face of the Stalker: anger. "You overstep yourself, Bard. I am the Lord of Death and you are in My realm."

"Binding the Orders to the gems hasn't worked to loosen the veil that keeps you imprisoned," said Tier a little desperately. It sounded like truth to him, and he found the reasons why. "I think that if they had loosened, You would already have destroyed Willon yourself. Hinnum told me that You are not evil. Surely what the Shadowed does with Your power offends You."

From somewhere he found the strength to sit up, though his muscles were still twitching, waiting for more pain.

"If your wife destroys the gems without freeing the Orders, it will loosen the barrier," said the Stalker.

"Willon wants my wife to clean the spirit from the gems so that he can use them all," Tier told him. "He knows about the Guardian Order. If my wife does not show him, he will learn how to do it eventually. He has all the time in the world, because death has no hold on him. Eventually he will take all the gems and eat their power - the power that belongs to You and to the Weaver. Then he will destroy You both."

He'd read Willon's intention when he first realized what it meant that Willon was not looking for six spirit-cleaned gems, but all of the gems clean.

The Stalker turned away, jerking his eyes from Tier's as if Tier had some sort of hold on him.

"You told him how to bind the Orders to the gems," Tier said. He wasn't certain he could stand, so he didn't. "If You had not done that, the Travelers could have dealt with him eventually. That is the task they bear for their imperfect sacrifice. Their greed for knowledge, for the libraries and Hinnum's mermori left the possibility open for a Shadowed to exist. It is a task they have carried out since the fall of Colossae. But there are few Travelers left now, thanks to Willon. If You had not told him how to bind the Orders, he would be no threat to You now."

"You said it yourself, Bard," the Stalker said bitterly, "death has no hold over him. I can do nothing to him so long as he holds My power."

"So what can I do to him?" asked Tier. "How do we stop him for You?"

The god sighed. "I can help." He said. "I will sing with you and we will withhold my power from Willon for a time. You have proved to me that you can withstand the pain of My song inside you. While we hold the power back, Willon must be killed."