The Crippled God

this.’
    ‘The matter,’ said Brys, ‘has proved far more complicated than even I had thought. But I mean to hold to my agreement with the Adjunct. Nor do I expect Queen Abrastal to change her mind, either. Our royal titles are nothing but a product of circumstance. They confer no special talent or ability, and we are both aware of that. Mortal Sword Gesler, it is undeniable that you are in command of the most formidable army in this alliance, and as such, the full weight of command must fall on you.’
    The man looked miserable.
    Snarling, Stormy swung round and stamped back to the waiting K’Chain Che’Malle. The small hairy dog followed.
    Gesler shrugged. ‘We liked it the way we’d made it – gods, so long ago now. Hiding in some foul garrison in a smelly fishing village. We’d ducked down so far it looked like the world had forgotten us, and that was just how we wanted it. And now look at us. Gods below.’
    Brys cocked his head. ‘You have been with the Adjunct ever since that time?’
    ‘Not quite. We got pulled in with the Whirlwind – a mutiny. We blame the Imperial Historian, that’s who we blame. Never mind, none of it’s worth knowing – it’s just a sordid tale of us staggering and stumbling this way and that across half the damned world. We did nothing of note, except maybe staying alive, and see where it’s got us.’
    ‘If you and your friend are feeling so trapped,’ said Brys, ‘why not just leave? Did you not already call yourself and Stormy deserters?’
    ‘Wish I could. I really do. But we can’t, and we know it.’
    ‘But … why?’
    Gesler looked down abjectly at Grub. ‘Because,’ he whispered like a man condemned, ‘ she trusts us .’
    ‘Now didn’t that go well,’ said Aranict as they rode back towards the column at a slow trot.
    Brys regarded her. ‘There was considerable alarm in your voice, Aranict, when you so startled us all.’
    ‘Where do gods come from, Brys? Do you know?’
    He shook his head, unwilling to stir awake his memories of the seabed, the forgotten menhirs so bearded in slime. He had lost a lifetime wandering the muddy, wasted depths. I slept, and so wanted to sleep – for ever. And if this is not the death others find, it was the death that found me. Such weariness, I’d lost the will to drag myself free .
    ‘Gesler and Stormy,’ said Aranict, ‘they are almost within reach.’
    ‘I’m sorry, what?’
    ‘Of godhood.’
    ‘You speak of things Kuru Qan used to talk about. The ancient First Empire notion of ascendancy.’
    ‘The Destriant spoke of fire.’
    He struggled to stay on the path she seemed to be taking. ‘The girl, Sinn …’
    Aranict snorted. ‘Yes, her. Fire at its most destructive, at its most senseless – she could have burned us all to ash and given it not a moment’s thought. When you hold such power inside you, it burns away all that is human. You feel nothing. But Brys, you don’t understand – the Adjunct wants Sinn with them.’
    ‘As far away from her as possible? I don’t think Tavore would—’
    ‘No no, that wasn’t her reason, Brys. It’s Gesler and Stormy.’
    ‘You are right in saying that I don’t understand.’
    ‘Those two men have walked in the Hold of Fire, in what the sages of the First Empire called Telas . Tavore wants Sinn with them because no one else can stand against that child, no one else could hope to survive her power, for when Sinn awakens that power, as Kalyth said, there will be fire .’
    ‘The Adjunct warned of betrayal—’
    ‘Brys, Gesler and Stormy are on the edge of ascendancy, and they can feel it. They’re both holding on for dear life—’
    ‘Holding on to what?’
    ‘To their humanity,’ she replied. ‘Their fingers are numb, the muscles of their arms are screaming. Their nails are cracked and bleeding. Did you see how the boy watched them? The one named Grub? He stands beside Sinn like her conscience made manifest – it is truly outside her now. She could push it away, she could crush the life from it – I don’t know why she hasn’t already. For all the fire in her hands, her heart is cold as ice.’
    ‘Are you saying the boy has no power of his own?’
    She shot him a look. ‘Did the Adjunct speak of him? The boy?’
    Warily, he nodded.
    ‘What did she say?’
    ‘She said he was the hope of us all, and that in the end his power would – could – prove our salvation.’
    She searched his face. ‘Then, Brys, we are in