Against All Gods

Chapter 19

They made it to the end of the isthmus, past the ribbon of fine-grained sand, and were walking up the sloping dunes, tall grasses tickling their ankles, when the first wisps of fog reached them.

Even though they had been walking briskly–not quite running, more of a frantic hopping–Sage's leg no longer burned. The pain had dulled to a slow throbbing ache and was now numbed by adrenaline.

"Maybe if we make it to the top of the cliff, it won't reach us," Sage panted.

"We don't even know what it is," Violet said as she tugged on the rope shoulder strap of the satchel.

As they continued to climb up the path that they had walked down just that morning, the loose sand of the dunes slowly transformed into a compact dirt that was easier to walk on. But they still weren't able to move as quickly as Sage would have liked. When they were still only halfway to the top of the cliff, the fog was now covering their feet, so thick that their sandals were obscured.

Suddenly, there was a deep rumble behind them.

"Thunder?" Violet asked, looking down to examine the strange ribbons of red fog that had twisted around her skirts.

Sage stopped and turned to look out. Cerikipos was lost in the red sea of clouds. He squinted at the undulating condensation and thought he saw a familiar intense gaze looking at him through the shadows. "Not thunder," Sage said, a cold chill running down his spine. "A wolf's growl."

"Do we run?" Violet asked, her voice rising in pitch.

"No point," the words formed as gravely reverberations from the fog.

Sage grasped Violet's hand as the surrounding air exploded with static. They stood as one, shoulder to shoulder, watching a dark shape solidified beneath them, first crouched down, and then standing tall on two legs.

Carmine stepped out of the fog, absorbing the red glow into the hot coals of his eyes, the mist turning silver.

The air crackled and Violet, without letting go of Sage's hand, kneeled. Sage, however, steadying himself with his crook, only bent his head.

"I did as you commanded," Sage said, his eyes staring at Carmine's boots as they stepped closer, fog still swirling. "And I have done as your sister requested. I am on my way back to her now."

The god let out a low rumble of laughter. "And you'll get to her a week from yesterday with that leg."

"I injured myself while securing the roots that your sister requested," Sage said, the words leaving his mouth before his brain intervened.

Violet squeezed his hand, stopping him from commenting about the added danger of being sent to the temple of a rival god.

"Actually, you had the herbs. You left them behind to rescue her," Carmine emphasized the last word, taking another step forward.

Sage dared to look up, his eyes defiantly meeting the god's, but he was smart enough to keep his lips pressed tight.

Carmine shook his head and let out another laugh. "I'm sure my sister will see it as an act of your loyalty towards your betrothed. And I cannot fault you for your bravery. But either way, it's slowing you down, and you have a purpose to fulfill."

"Purpose?" Sage asked, the response reflexive.

Violet squeezed his hand again, this time digging some of her nails into his palm. He assumed she disapproved of the tone he was using with a god, but it was beyond his control. He was sick of waiting for the gods to fulfill promises, sick of feeling like the butt of their jokes.