Gathering of the Chosen (19 page)

“I didn't trick Darek into doing
anything,” said the Ghostly God. “He was the one who came to me
with that offer, not the other way around. Is he trying to play the
victim again?”

“The point is, I don't really want to be
associated with you,” said Braim. “Or any of the other gods, for
that matter. Hell, I don't even want to win the Tournament.”

“Then what
do
you want to do?” said
the Ghostly God. “Drift around the world aimlessly?”

Braim shrugged. “Dunno. Haven't figured it
out yet. I just came back to life, after all. I thought I'd go back
to doing what I was doing in my first life—being a student at North
Academy and next in line to become the Magical Superior, or so I've
been told—but even that doesn't interest me anymore.”

“Would you like to be free of the darkness
that creeps up on you when you least expect it?” asked the Ghostly
God. “The darkness that has made it almost impossible for you to
sleep?”

Braim looked at the Ghostly God suddenly.
“How did you know about that? I haven't told anyone about that, not
even Darek or Jenur.”

“Because you mortals are not as good at
hiding your secrets from us gods as you like to think you are,”
said the Ghostly God. “I have seen your thoughts in which you worry
about this darkness that follows you wherever you go.”

“So what?” said Braim, trying to hide his
feelings of unease with an indifferent tone. “Maybe it's depression
or something. It's probably nothing serious.”

“Oh, but I think it is,” said the Ghostly
God. “It is serious enough that you would like someone to get rid
of it for you.”

“And if I do?” said Braim. He looked at
the Ghostly God hard. “Are you going to get rid of it?”

“No,” said the Ghostly God, shaking his
head. “Or rather, I can't, seeing as I have no idea what it may be
and how to get rid of it. But I do have a theory about your body
that may help shed some light on the subject.”

Despite himself, Braim said, “Shoot. I'm
listening.”

“All right,” said the Ghostly God. He
sounded like he had been waiting to share this theory with someone
for a long time. “I believe that the darkness lingering in your
body is from Uron's possession of it. Uron was one of the Almighty
Ones, remember, which makes him far more powerful than even us
gods. Although Uron no longer exists as an entity independent of
the universe, I would be severely surprised to find out that his
possession of your corpse did not leave at least some lasting scars
that will take either years to heal or will never heal at all.”

“So you think there might still be a
little bit of Uron left in me?” said Braim with a gulp.

“Not exactly,” said the Ghostly God.
“Consider a forest fire that has recently been put out. While the
flames that once burned the forest may no longer be causing any
active damage, the fire has left behind ash and smoke and burnt
wood in its wake. It will undoubtedly take years before the forest
will grow again to its original strength. Uron is that fire and
your body is the forest.”

Braim frowned. “But forest fires can start
again. Does that mean that I am in danger of being possessed by
Uron again?”

“Of course not,” said the Ghostly God. “By
all accounts, Uron has been utterly destroyed. There is no chance
at all that he will ever return, much less to possess your body.
You are taking the analogy too far. Typical human behavior.”

“Hey, bud,
you
were the one who
said my body is a forest, not me,” said Braim. “So what do you
think that all means, then?”

“I have absolutely no clue,” said the
Ghostly God. “It might mean nothing. Perhaps you will simply go on
to live a normal mortal life and then die of old age later on. Or
maybe it will have a lasting effect on your personality that will
leave you utterly changed. You're unique, so no one knows for
sure.”

“If it changes me, will it be in a good
way or a bad way?” asked Braim.

“Again, I do not know,” said the Ghostly
God. “That is why I wish to study you. I don't even know if you can
actually die. Your resurrection might have granted you immortality
for all I know.”

“Immortality, huh?” said Braim. “Well, I
guess that's plenty of time to figure out exactly what is wrong
with me.
Without
your help.”

“But why reject the aid of someone as
experienced and knowledgeable on the subject as I am?” said the
Ghostly God. He made a sound of disgust. “Wait, don't answer. I
know how you humans think, behaving as if you know better than us
gods. You are all the same.”

Braim shrugged. “Whatever. Anyway, do you
know anything about that assassin that tried to kill me? You know,
the guy who just tried to murder Raya and Carmaz about an hour
ago?”

“No,” said the Ghostly God. “We have been
working alongside the Soldiers of the Gods to find out who he is,
but so far they have not found any evidence to point towards the
assassin's identity or the identity of his employer.”

“Is it one of you guys?” said Braim.
“Because if he's a katabans, then that means he's working for one
of you, right?”

“You are assuming that that is what he is
even when you have no proof to justify that belief,” said the
Ghostly God. “More typical human behavior. But no, the evidence
doesn't suggest that our assassin is a katabans at all.”

“Well, he's clearly not human or aquarian,
either,” said Braim. “And I kind of doubt he's a god. Otherwise,
we'd all be dead by now. That still doesn't explain what he is,
though.”

“The answers, I am sure, will come in
time,” said the Ghostly God. “Both the gods and the Soldiers are
working hard to discover who he is. It is shameful that this
assassin has struck twice on World's End and has yet to be
caught.”

“Yeah, I was wondering about that,” said
Braim. “Thought that World's End was supposed to be the safest
island in the world, because it's also the home of the gods and
everything.”

“It is still quite safe in comparison to
other islands,” said the Ghostly God. “In any case, it is only a
matter of time before the assassin is found, caught, and exposed. I
know that Grinf in particular has been searching for him
everywhere. He cannot stand the idea of a criminal running loose on
World's End. It isn't 'just,' as he put it.”

“I think we'd all sleep a little safer if
that guy was behind bars,” said Braim. “But one thing I noticed
about him was how he bled gold blood when Tashir and Malya attacked
him. You gods bleed gold blood, right?”

“Typically, yes,” said the Ghostly
God.

“But our assassin is clearly not a god,”
said Braim. “So what's up with that?”

The Ghostly God opened his mouth to
answer, but then a sudden realization came over his features. He
closed his mouth and tapped his chin, like his brain was putting
together all of the pieces of the puzzle.

“No, that can't be,” the Ghostly God was
rapidly muttering under his breath. “But yes, it seems logical and
certainly fits all of the evidence. But that only opens up more
questions, though they may be far easier to answer than this one
was.”

Braim raised an eyebrow. “Ghostly God?
What are you muttering about?”

“You will find out in time, assuming my
theory is correct,” said the Ghostly God. “For now, I must contact
my fellow gods and share with them my theory. If it is correct, we
should have an idea of what we are up against. If it is not, then
you do not need to know it and thus fill your mind with more wrong
information that will not help you survive if the assassin comes
after you again.”

With that, the Ghostly God vanished as
suddenly as he came, leaving Braim all alone in his room. While
Braim was glad that the Ghostly God was gone, his stomach grumbled
again, causing him to look at the sandwich on the floor sadly.

“He could have at least gotten me a new
sandwich before he left,” said Braim under his breath.

***

R
aya lay in her bed in her
apartment in World's End, shivering every now and then, despite the
warmth of her blankets. She was certain that she must have come
down with pneumonia, even though the katabans healer who had seen
her had told her that she would be fine with some bed rest and food
and water. Raya didn't believe the healer. She felt so awful and
sick that she knew she had to have come down with
something
,
even if she didn't yet know what.

I just want to go home now,
Raya
thought, tightening her grip on her blankets and trying to keep the
tears from flowing.
I don't want to be in the Tournament
anymore. I don't want to be on World's End. I just want to go back
to Carnag. If that means I'll only become the Queen of Carnag when
I get older, then so be it.

Raya was used to assassination attempts on
her life. She was royalty, after all, which meant that she had
always been the prime target for assassination even from the day
she was born.

But this one had been different. This was
the closest that Raya had ever come to actually being killed in
cold blood. And she
would
have been killed had it not been
for the aid of the other godlings. There was no ifs, ands, or buts
about it. Had things been even slightly different—had the others
come even slightly late—Raya knew for a fact that she would not be
lying here in her bed, thinking about how she could have died if
things had turned out differently.

It brought to mind that letter that she
had found on her bed on her first day on World's End, that letter
that had claimed that justice always reaches the destination to
which it travels. Raya had blown it off as nonsensical and without
teeth, but now she was starting to think that it had been very
serious. Might the letter have been placed on her bed by that
four-armed assassin? But if so, why did he wait so long to attack
her? And just what
was
he doing out on the street in the
open like that anyway?

Despite going over these questions in her
mind, Raya found that she didn't really care about the answers.
What mattered was that she should have been dead and that World's
End was no longer quite as safe as she used to think that it
was.

But I can't leave until I win or lose
in the Tournament,
Raya thought. She brushed the tears out of
her eyes.
And I am not even sure I want to compete at all. I
mean, if I
do
win, then I'll become the Goddess of
Deception, Thieves, and Horses.
Thieves
! What would Father
say about that?

But Raya had not yet tried to contact
either of her parents and tell them about this recent assault on
her life. It wasn't that she thought they wouldn't believe her—her
parents always believed her about everything—but she just didn't
want to worry them at the moment. It was an odd internal conflict.
On one hand, she wanted to tell her parents all about what she just
experienced, but on the other hand, she also didn't want to tell
them for fear that they might become too worried about her ability
to participate in the Tournament.

Raya put her hands over her face. This was
all too much for her. Raya hadn't expected to be feeling such
stress before the Tournament started. All she wanted to do was
sleep and forget about it all, but she knew that she couldn't even
do that much, because she remembered what Braim had said earlier,
about how that same assassin had tried to kill him in his sleep not
long ago, which meant that he might try to do the same thing to her
if she wasn't careful.

Despite how tired and worn out she felt,
Raya sat up and swung her legs over the side of her bed. She then
stood up and made her way to the door of her room, which she
cracked open slightly and peered through to look at the living room
of her apartment.

She saw Carmaz lying asleep on the sofa
with one arm draped over his body and the other hanging over the
side of the sofa. He looked like he was sleeping deeply, his chest
rising and falling with his breath, but he was completely silent.
He didn't snore at all, which Raya found made him a lot better than
some noblemen she had once known.

Raya wasn't sure exactly why she had asked
for Carmaz to stay in her apartment with her. As a matter of fact,
Raya couldn't remember much about the actual attack at all. The
trauma must have messed with her memories. She just remembered
Carmaz and his friend (whose name she honestly could not remember
at the moment, probably because his friend hadn't especially
impressed her and wasn't even participating in the Tournament)
saving her from the assassin, but even they would have gotten
killed if Braim and the others had not arrived in the nick of
time.

Raya didn't understand why Carmaz had
bothered to try to save her. Perhaps he had been sent by Alira to
fetch her when she stormed away from the Stadium, but even so, he
had put his own life at risk just to save hers. And the two of them
didn't even know each other that well. Of the few interactions they
had had so far, they had all been fairly antagonistic. She had
never met anyone from Ruwa before. In fact, until she met Carmaz,
Raya had assumed that anyone from that island was an uncivilized
savage who didn't even know how to count beyond ten.

But Carmaz was completely different from
the stereotype that she knew. While hardly as handsome as some of
the princes and noblemen that she had known back on Carnag and
Shika, Carmaz still looked far better than someone from Ruwa had
any right to look. He was also a lot smarter and stronger than most
of the handsome princes she knew, though a lot less respectful than
most.

More strangely, though, was why Carmaz had
agreed to protect her at all. It was possible that Carmaz had
explained his reasoning for staying in her apartment with her at
some point, but that had probably happened while her mind was
traumatized and so she had probably missed it. Still, Carmaz had
not seemed like he liked her all that much, so why would he agree
to stay here with her, especially since she already had some guards
outside?