“Usually, we mortals don’t get to serve as messengers,” the man said as if Gavin hadn’t spoken. “But He was making an exception for one brother. And we Guiles can be very persuasive.”
“What’d you do, Lucidonius? Try to mold the illusion to look like me as much as you could, and hope the brightness of your eyes would blind me to all its shortcomings?”
“Flaws? Please, brother,” the godling said. “I’m the handsome one.” His eyes twinkled with good humor, and he held the blade casually, but kept enough distance between them that Gavin wasn’t going to be able to take him by surprise.
“Well, that’s a little bit like him, I confess. But it’s still not good enough.”
“Brother. You’ve tried to hold out until nightfall. What do you hope comes with the darkness?”
“Your power is faded already,” Gavin said.
“Indeed. Mine is. Orholam’s is not.”
Gavin sighed. “Orholam. Lucidonius. Me. Now you’re someone else again? It’s so tiresome. Just pick one, huh?”
The god laughed. “Oh, is this Gavin complaining, or Dazen, or He Who Would Be Orholam himself?”
“I . . . I—fair enough.”
Gavin wondered if Karris were already dead. Gavin would have one small opportunity here. Grinwoody had proven himself patient above all things, so he wouldn’t be impatient with all his plans on the line. He wouldn’t kill Karris before sunset. He wouldn’t even kill her at the very moment of it, surely, as if he were a timepiece. Surely he would wait, if only a few long moments, to see if all his plans might still work out. To see if Gavin might yet come through.
Or so Gavin had to hope.
There would be a few moments soon, just after sunset, where Lucidonius would be at his very weakest. Gavin would wrest the blade away then, and kill him, whether or not he’d told Gavin how to ascend to godhood.
Karris was worth Gavin delaying godhood.
She was worth Gavin losing it.
“You have the sword. I’m at your mercy,” Gavin said. “Surely now you can tell me how you ascended.”
“Are you waiting only for sunset, or do you hope to delay me until full dark?” the god asked. He seemed amused at Gavin’s attempts. “That is quite a long time from now, on the longest day of the year. What’s your plan?”
Not stupid, Lucidonius.
“I don’t think I need full dark,” Gavin said. “A little more and I’m going to take that blade from you and ram it through your heart.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” the god said, looking mournfully at the blade.
“Nice try,” Gavin scoffed. “I mean, as guesses go. I suppose all that black luxin at Sundered Rock messed up even your vision, huh? I didn’t use the Knife to kill Gavin.”
Lucidonius shook his head. “It must be exhausting, seeing lies and schemes everywhere. But I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve been so steeped in your shame that you never saw how deeply father was lost in his. Of course, he’s very good at hiding it. From you most of all. For many years now, he’s been killing everyone who knows, exiling those who might even suspect. As if the Lightbringer, of all people, would bring darkness.” He expelled a long breath.
Gavin waved that all away. “Lightbringer?” Gavin said. “Father? You think he believes in that? Father’s not remotely superstitious.”
“Where you turned your shame in, he has turned it out on the world. But you, brother, do you think that when Orholam’s Eye sets, that He can no longer see? His light burns unceasing, though all the earth turns its back and sees darkness. In the darkness, He gives us celestial lights that we may be reminded of Him, and the world turns once more. And to you, it is given to be a mirror set on high, to shine light even to the depths and bring others hope of the swiftly coming dawn.”
“What are you, insane?”
“I never said you killed me.”
It was such a non sequitur that Gavin couldn’t even respond for a moment. “Ah, I see. Now you’re simply throwing as many words at me as possible. My confusion is the point. But I know how this works. I remember what you just said. I’m a Guile. It’s what we do. I might have lost a few things because I drafted black, but I certainly fucking remember killing Gavin.”
“And with all the memories you lost, I’m so sorry you kept that one.”
“Oh, I’m sure you are, as it gives the lie to your little—”
“Brother. Peace. I never said I was Gavin.”
“You just—” Gavin suddenly couldn’t breathe as the implication of Lucidonius’s words slipped through his defenses like a knife between a child’s ribs.
The godling said, “This is how I would’ve looked now, had I lived. You needed to exhaust your rage, fighting all through the day, so I begged for the duty. I didn’t expect to get it. But then I worried that the young face of him you loved so well might push you to madness.”
“No.” Gavin wouldn’t allow this. “Not him. Don’t you . . . don’t you defile him,” he whispered.
“Dazen, there is no gentle way to lance a boil. Nor an easy way to bring a betrayal to light.”
“Says the man who poses as a god?! Take off that face! And you stop talking right fucking now,” Gavin said.
“There’s work yet to do, big brother. And only just time enough for it. The sun sinks, and your son is dying.”
“Don’t you—see?! This is exactly what I was talking about! You throw more and more at me, hoping to confound me. Hoping to get me tangled up, hoping to distract me from—”
“It’s not your fault. I don’t blame you.”
“You fuck!” Gavin nearly leapt to attack him, sword be damned. “I said don’t you dare—”
The creature who pretended to be Sevastian did the last thing Gavin expected: Sevastian tossed the sword to him—or at him, somewhat, for though hilt-first, it was no gentle toss.
Gavin cut his fingers as he bobbled the blade. He retreated, stunned back into recognition of their fight and the blade and the peril he was in.
But ‘Sevastian’ made no move to attack, nor even to close the gap between them.
Gavin came down with the blade in his right hand, without his adversary so much as attacking. He was so stunned that his adversary had given up every advantage that they’d fought for throughout the entire, long day that he nearly forgot his rage, Guile though he was.
“Before any of us were born, father came to believe he was the Lightbringer,” Sevastian said.
“Stop it now,” Gavin said. “I have the monopoly on the madness here.”
“He thought only he could save the world. That he was the most important person in history.”
“Well, that much does sound like father,” Gavin admitted.
“He thought that if he didn’t save the world, no one would. He laid out a path, and as he always did, he pushed through every obstacle. But one time, he got outmaneuvered, outplayed at the great game. High Lord Ulbear Rathcore saw the size of father’s ambition. Before father was even on the Spectrum, Rathcore pushed an obscure rule change about the Prism sacrifice through the Spectrum that he thought would stop father’s ambitions.”