The Crippled God

the ends of his misshapen hands, pathetic as broken wings.
    The bearded man reached him, and now at last the Crippled God could hear his words, could understand them.
    ‘You must chain her! Lord! She will accept your chains! You must – T’iam is manifesting! She will destroy everything!’
    The Crippled God felt his face twisting. ‘Chain her? I, who have known an eternity in chains? You cannot ask this of me!’
    ‘Chain her or she dies!’
    ‘Then death shall be her release!’
    ‘Lord – if she dies, then we all die! I beg you, chain her!’
    He studied this mortal. ‘She accepts this?’
    ‘Yes! And quickly – D’rek is dying beneath us.’
    ‘But my power is alien – I have no means of binding it to this world, mortal.’
    ‘Find a way! You have to!’
    He was freed. He could walk from this place. He could leave these mortals – not even the deadly power of the Otataral Dragon could harm him. Otataral, after all, is nothing more than the scab this world makes to answer the infection. And what is that infection? Why, it is me .
    The Crippled God looked down upon this mortal. He kneels, as all broken mortals kneel. Against the cruelty of this and every world, a mortal can do nothing but kneel .
    Even before a foreign god .
    And what of the love I possess? Perhaps there is nothing – but no, there is no such thing as foreign love .
    He closed his eyes, released his mind to this world.
    And found them waiting for him.
    Two Elder Gods, each taking a hand – their touches heartbreakingly gentle. The crushing pressure in this place had levelled every feature, darkness and silts swirling in unceasing dance. Currents raged on all sides, but none could reach through – the gods held them at bay .
    No, only one of these Elders possessed that power, and he was named Mael of the Seas .
    They led him across this plain, this ocean bed lost to the sun’s light .
    To where knelt another mortal – but only his soul remained, though for the moment it once more occupied the body it had abandoned long ago: rotted with decay, swirl-tattoos seeming to flow in the currents from the naked form. He knelt with his hands thrust down, buried deep in the silts, as if seeking a lost coin, a precious treasure, a memento .
    When he looked up at them, the Crippled God saw that he was blind .
    ‘ Who is this? ’ the mortal asked . ‘ Who is this, nailed so cruelly to this tree? Please, I beg you – I cannot see. Please, tell me. Is it him? He tried to save me. It cannot have come to this. It cannot! ’
    And the Elder God who was not Mael of the Seas then spoke . ‘ Heboric, you but dream, and this dream of yours is not a conversation. Only a monologue. In this dream, Heboric Ghosthands, you are trapped .’
    But the mortal named Heboric shook his head . ‘ You don’t understand. All I have touched I have destroyed. Friends. Gods. Even the child – I lost her too, to the Whirlwind. I lost them all .’
    ‘ Heboric Ghosthands ,’ said Mael , ‘ will you fill this ocean with your tears? If you believe this notion to be new, know this: these waters were so filled … long ago .’
    The other Elder God said , ‘ Heboric, you must awaken from this dream. You must free your hands – they have waited for this moment since the island. They have touched and taken the Jade and now within you reside a million lost souls – souls belonging to this foreign god. And, too, your hands have touched Otataral, the summoner of Korabas .’
    But Heboric sank back down, groping in the silts once more . ‘ I killed my god .’
    ‘ Heboric ,’ said Mael of the Seas , ‘ even gods of war will tire of war. It seems that only mortals will not. No matter. He has absolved you of all blame. His blood has brought life to dead lands. He deems it a worthy sacrifice .’
    ‘ But that sacrifice will fail, Heboric ,’ said the other Elder God , ‘ if you do not awaken from your dream .’
    ‘ Who is upon the tree? ’
    ‘ Heboric, there is no one upon the tree .’
    The sightless eyes lifted once again . ‘ No one? ’
    ‘ Let us see your hands, old friend. I have awakened all the warrens, and all now lead to one place. A cavern far beneath a barrow, made by the jaws of D’rek. Shall we walk there now, Heboric? ’
    ‘ A barrow? ’
    ‘ A barrow .’
    ‘ No one dreams within a barrow .’
    Both Elder Gods were silent to that, and when the Crippled God looked at each of them in turn he saw that they were weeping – he could see the