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The War on Heaven

Chapter 15

Ettoras didn't like Palesa much. She was bossy and stubborn and her powers were terrifying. But truth be told, she wasn't really bossy at all. Ettoras resented her because she had taken the Skkye Glass from him the night she and her spotted lover found him drowning in the lake, and she absolutely refused to give it back. It infuriated him. He was so used to foxes bowing and doing exactly as he said, that having someone unafraid and unflinching who denied his commands was confusing and aggravating. If she would just give him the dagger, he could be on his way. And he said so many times.

But Motsumi wasn't so certain that Ettoras should be on his way and cautioned him to remain with their party. Ettoras liked Motsumi a lot better than Palesa, though he was just as frustrated by the male's refusal to hand over the dagger. Like Palesa, Motsumi was unafraid of Ettoras and even went so far as to interrogate him at length. He asked many questions about S'pru and the Skkye Glass, and Ettoras told the older male everything he knew. He didn't know why, but he had the feeling he could trust Motsumi. The older fox was kind and nurturing and warm. He guided Ettoras through his uncertainty, assuring him that his mother had done what she believed was best for him, that Kayya was probably just fine, and that Ayni's fire not only burned, it also purified. And sitting with his legs folded as he listened to the older male, Ettoras knew he was very lucky to have fallen in with his company.

Motsumi was an elder, though like most foxes, he appeared so young and handsome that his true age was not readily apparent. At a glance, Ettoras might have placed Motsumi at forty years at best, but he could tell the fox was more than a century. The eldest foxes always had a look in their eyes. Their eyes were old, as if they had seen much pain and suffering, as if they had experienced much joy and warmth, as if they had seen the world for all it had and didn't have to offer and were content just being, even if it meant the world was not at its best.

Motsumi was a red fox with a very simple fur pattern. His mane was red and his brown eyes so pale they were almost yellow. He wore bearskin trousers, boots, and no shirt, as it was late summer and the heat of the Nufetriaz Marches was intense this time of year. On his back he always carried a fur pack with yellow feathers dangling from it, and a quiver of arrows always poked from the pack, their feathers bright yellow as well. Though Motsumi was an incredible sorcerer, he revealed to Ettoras that he had started his life a simple hunter. One day, the goddess Zuu'ma gave him a vision, and when he dedicated himself to her light, she sent a Guide to him, that he might inherit her power.

Palesa then explained to Ettoras what Guides were, unaware that he had heard the stories before. Unbeknownst to Palesa, there were many foxes on S'pru who claimed they were Guides and expressed regret that they had abandoned their path and those who needed them on Aonre in exchange for the safety of S'pru. The Guides were simply followers of the fallen goddess Zuu'ma, who had gifted them the last of her power before she became mortal. Her followers had a very long tradition of passing what they called the Light down from Guide to Guide, and they used the Light to guide the lost and protect those in need. If Palesa were to have a child, she would have raised it in the way of the Light and passed her power on to it. But Ettoras knew it was highly unlikely Palesa would have a child, as mortal dogs and foxes could not breed.

Wilmer was Palesa's lover. And Wilmer was a dog. Ettoras remembered the first time he saw Wilmer, and in hindsight, he was ashamed of how much he had stared. But Wilmer was the first dog Ettoras had ever seen. Ettoras initially thought all dogs looked like Wilmer, but Wilmer laughed good-naturedly and explained that his breed was known as Dalmatian, a white dog with black spots. Ettoras thought Wilmer's pattern wasn't unlike Palesa's, who was a gray vixen with red blotches. The Dalmatian was friendly, polite, exceedingly helpful, a great cook, and deeply in love with Palesa. Sometimes Ettoras saw them whispering happily or laughing and rubbing noses as they sat around the fire, and he silently envied them. On Aonre, it was not legal for dogs and foxes to marry, and yet Palesa and Wilmer had all the appearance of a marriage. They were happy and content in the warmth of each other's light, and Ettoras watched them from across the fire, silently wishing he and Kayya could have come anywhere close to that.

Only Kayya couldn't love Ettoras. Kayya only liked females. He would always be the protective big brother to her. Some part of him didn't mind. The other part of him wished there was someone out there for him. He looked at Palesa and Wilmer, and he wanted the love and devotion they shared. Sometimes he saw the white vixen in the water still, the lovely young female whose eyes he could swear had looked upon the water and had seen him as well. He wondered often if she was married, if she liked males . . . if she could even love him were they to meet. What was her name? And where was she? Sometimes he thought he would search for her after he had found Kayya and his mother. He ached for her and didn't understand why.

Motsumi, Palesa, and Wilmer told Ettoras they had been traveling the Nufetriaz Marches in search of a hidden place. The marches were grasslands, the green sea broken only by the occasional small cluster of trees. It was an endless expanse and home to many variations of wildlife. Large flightless birds called moa ran through the tall grass in droves, their colorful plume like a rainbow gleaming against the sky. Wild deer stood on hilltops with strangely twisted horns and watched them from a solemn distance, brown as earth with haunches spotted white. The deer were not to be mistaken for helpless prey: their twisted horns could tear a beast to shreds. Little rabbits flitted from tiny burrows, mice scurried to the tops of grass stalks, butterflies drifted across the clouds, packs of wolves lurked in the shadows, and the occasional lion could be seen stalking low among the flowers. It was a place as lethal as it was beautiful, thus the reason Motsumi cautioned Ettoras not to leave their company: there was little chance Ettoras would survive a night alone in the Plains of Nufetriaz let alone make it out.

Aside from the lions and the wolves, other predators stalked the plains, these possessing guns. The march was home to two foxhound villages, where a marquis ruled the land jointly with his twin brother. The land was, therefore, referred to as "the marches" because it had been divided down the middle by a father wishing to keep his sons from squabbling. The march itself was within Kingdom Maldoene, the king of which was a foxhound who pretended to publicly support the legal protection of foxes whilst still purchasing fox pelts behind closed doors. As a result, many foxes had fled from the marches and Kingdom Maldoene altogether in search of the bridge of light that would lead them to S'pru. And hearing Palesa's horror stories of dogs hunting foxes, Ettoras realized for the first time what a tremendous thing his mother had done in creating a safe haven for his kin.

They traveled by day through the marches and always made camp at night, taking refuge in the abandoned burrows foxes had left behind. Ettoras thought the plains incredibly beautiful and walked through them in awe, never dreaming that he was, in fact, walking through lands that belonged to his relatives. The brothers who ruled the marches were known as Marquis Jule McIntyre and Marquis Simon McIntyre, the latter often mocked as "Simple Simon" behind his back and the former often scorned as a lecher. They were the second cousins of Duke Verneus, who was Duchess Evelyn Kingsley's father, who was King Etienne Emerald's mother, who was - unbeknownst to Ettoras - Ettoras' father.

"Where did you get the dagger anyway?" Palesa asked Ettoras as they walked along.

It was day, and they were walking through a small cluster of half a dozen trees. The sky was bright blue and clear of clouds. A herd of moa grazed nearby, ignoring them as they passed. Ettoras hated walking and had suggested many a time that they capture and tame a few of the moa to ride. But Motsumi warned him that the birds were lethal, and Ettoras - not wanting to leave the others behind by flying ahead - grumbled to himself as he continued on foot. He didn't really know where they were going anyway.

"Why does it matter where I got it?" Ettoras complained. "It was mine. You had no right to take it."

"We had every right," Palesa answered calmly. "And stop sulking. It's ugly."

Ettoras scowled.

Motsumi was leading the way, and Palesa walked behind him between Ettoras and Wilmer. She was wearing a short deerskin dress, yellow feathers in her gray mane, and a vest made of bear fur. Beads hugged her slender wrist and clicked when she reached up to push her mane behind her ear. Beside her, Wilmer walked in deerskin pants and no shirt, a necklace of yellow feathers around his throat and a pack on his back. His white mane was long, loose, and wild, and his eyes when they glanced at Palesa were soft and amused.

"Give the kid a break," Wilmer said. "He isn't even from this world. I doubt he fully grasps what the dagger can do."

Ettoras frowned. "I know what it can do. It can make a god mortal."

Wilmer shook his head sadly. "That's not all it can do," he said heavily.

Ettoras squinted one eye. "Then what else can it do? Shoot fire and lightning? Big whoop."

Palesa looked at Ettoras in amazement. "You lived as a god on another world, and no one ever told you?"

Ettoras shrugged moodily. Why would they? Why would his mother tell him anything? Most of the things he knew, he had learned from Nerayn when he was a child. He averted his eyes, not wanting to think of his nursemaid. After he took her voice, he flew through Kayya's window to find her sleeping peacefully with her siblings. They were piled like cubs in her bed, and they looked so content, Ettoras regretted having to wake Kayya. But he roused his wife and told her it was time to go, that they had to leave S'pru immediately. And that was how they had come to the bridge of light when Azrian and the stranger were there.

Ettoras held back a smile as he thought of his mother. He still couldn't believe it: he had seen_her _face. For the first time in his life, he had looked at her and seen her beauty, the beauty he had conjured up in dreams when trying to place a face to the voice he loved so dearly. He had wanted to run to her, to hug her. But there was a stranger on the bridge writhing in agony and screaming, and then she fell off, and Ettoras dove to save her. The stranger had been unlike any creature he had ever seen, and upon looking at her, he couldn't even decide if she was a fox or not. Then it hit him that he had seen a creature like her before: himself.

"The dagger was on a stranger who came to S'pru," Ettoras said heavily. "She's the reason my mother, Kayya, and I were cast down."

"How do you know she was the reason?" Palesa pointed out. "Ayni has despised your mother for quite some time, Ettoras."

Ettoras stared at his feet as he walked. He had heard of the goddess Ayni. Kayya's mother worshipped her, in fact. But no one had ever told him of her rivalry with his mother. Perhaps if they had, he would have better prepared himself to cross the bridge.

"Lesa," Wilmer said, watching Ettoras in sympathy, "tell him about the dagger. He should know." He glanced at Motsumi.

Palesa looked at Motsumi's back as well, and Ettoras knew she was waiting for his approval. Ettoras was quick to notice that Motsumi seemed to be in charge of all their secrets. Everything he had taught Palesa as a Guide was not for outsiders, so any time Palesa divulged information, it was with hesitance.

Motsumi glanced over his shoulder at them and looked away again. "Tell him, Palesa. It is one secret we as Guides may spare. For him, at least," he said quietly.

Palesa glanced at Ettoras hesitantly and swallowed. "The dagger can actually make a mortal into a god, Ettoras."

Ettoras stared at Palesa. "What?"

"And, unfortunately," Palesa went on unhappily, "it is not the only one of its kind." She looked ahead. "A god can turn anyone as they will. But the dagger gives mortals that same power over life and death - power we were never meant to have. And that is why we seek the hidden place."

". . . you going to tell me about this hidden place?" Ettoras asked, his eyes following a yellow butterfly as it drifted past them.

"We have . . . a powerful artifact in our possession," Palesa admitted with hesitation. "And now because of you, we have two. It is our duty as Guides to protect these artifacts from mortals. They are things that were not meant to leave Skkye. They were not meant for mortal paws."

Ettoras snorted. "Then the gods did a lousy job because both of them are down here."

Palesa smiled. "For once, Ettoras, I would agree with you."

"So how'd they get down here?" Ettoras prompted.

"You've heard the stories in S'pru, haven't you? Did your mother not tell you of the war on the heavens?" Palesa looked at him curiously.

Ettoras glowered at the ground. "Let's assume my mother never told me anything." He didn't notice the sympathy that passed through Palesa's eyes.

"Ah." Palesa looked away and cleared her throat. "Many thousands of years ago, Great Hildrith'el withdrew into Skkye. Aonre had become poison to her and began to drain her life essence. When she went far away, the foxes cried out to her, and in desperation, began to make blood sacrifices, believing it would bring the goddess and her light back to the world."

Ettoras winced. "When the hell are blood sacrifices ever a solution to anything?"

"That's what _I_said," agreed Wilmer, who was listening uneasily to a story he'd probably heard many times before.

"Hildrith'el ignored their prayers," Palesa continued, "and in anger, the foxes made war on Heaven. They gathered their greatest sorcerers and marched across the bridge of light, right into Skkye. They stepped in a place unmeant for mortals, and their presence sullied Heaven. Skkye's warriors rose against the invasion. They drove the foxes out, and once the mortals were cast down, Hildrith'el lifted the bridge of light and sealed off Skkye. Forever."

Ettoras glared, thinking of the CrystalPalace and its golden barrier. He hated himself for not seeing what was happening to his mother. The more years went by, the more powerful Azrian became, the more she withdrew. His exile from the palace had been a long time coming. He was suddenly very glad his mother was now mortal. But was she even still alive? He pushed the thought away.

"But the damage was done," Palesa said heavily. "Hildrith'el was poisoned by the mortal blood that was spilled, and she withdrew further into her palace to heal. When the smoke had cleared, the spirits of Skkye discovered their treasures missing from the palace of light: Skkye Glass and Skkye Stone. The sword and the stone.

"The glorious weapons had belonged to Hildrith'el's great warrior daughter, Xanta, goddess of war, who was struck down with her own weapons by mortals who had tricked her when she descended to Aonre. Xanta's twin brother Xantu, god of war, preserved his sister's spirit in her sword. He was slain protecting his mother from the foxes who attacked Heaven, and in the scuffle, the sword was shattered into three pieces. There was a great funeral for Xantu in Skkye, and for ten thousand years, Heaven mourned him.

"But Hildrith'el refused to mourn. She took the shattered pieces of her daughter's sword and forged it in to three daggers, each one possessing a fragment of her lost daughter's soul. She then took Xanta's stone and placed within it another fragment of her daughter. Xantu's blood was still on the weapons, and she used it to conjure his soul from the Halfway Place. Xantu was thus reborn in a different shape and form. Hildrith'el breathed the breath of life into his lips. And she named him Antony."

Palesa fell silent, and Ettoras' ears pricked forward.

"But that's not how the story ends, is it?" Ettoras insisted. He offered his paws. "What happened to the weapons? And why hasn't Hildrith'el done anything about it before now! Mortals could attack Skkye again, and this time, they could kill her!"

Palesa smiled sadly. "I don't think she cares, Ettoras. I can't even imagine what it's like to lose one child. Imagine losing two."

Ettoras fell silent, and as they continued along, he could hear birds chirruping, blissfully unaware of what strife tore through Aonre. All his life, Hildrith'el had been some name, but now she seemed like an individual, a being with feelings who had suffered and lost, who had lived an incredibly long life and who was just . . . tired.

"Motsumi and I think," said Palesa quietly, "that Hildrith'el didn't help your mother create S'pru out of the goodness of her heart."

"That's surprising," Ettoras muttered.

"We think she meant for Azrian to replace her," Palesa went on.

Ettoras almost tripped to a stop. "What!"

"We believe Hildrith'el might just end Aonre," Motsumi added gravely, "if mortals take up sword and stone and march on her again. She will end all life in this world - perhaps even end herself - and there will be nothing left except S'pru."

Ettoras swallowed hard. He didn't know what to say.

"And that is why it is so important that we reach the hidden place," Palesa said. "We must hide the weapons away. We must protect them."

"So wait . . ." Ettoras said as it dawned on him. "You three have the stone?"

Motsumi hesitated and said darkly, ". . .yes."

"So the dagger can make a mortal a god," Ettoras pressed. "What does the stone do?"

"It houses the fragmented spirit of a warrior god," Palesa said with a flat laugh. "Guess."

"It obliterates life," Wilmer said grimly, and Ettoras got the feeling the Dalmatian had seen the stone in action. "It can kill in the blink of an eye. And its fire can kill anything - mortal or immortal, doesn't matter."

"It is also a portal device," Motsumi said heavily. "Anyone who got a hold of it would be able to move entire armies across the nine kingdoms in a heartbeat."

Ettoras winced. "Ouch."

"There is a setback, of course," Motsumi said. "The stone can only take you to places you've been before. Its power lies within memory. Regardless, it is a lethal tool that can not be entrusted to mortals."

"Now you understand why we must hide it away," Palesa said. "Before now, it was in the possession of the Carringtons of Curith, Ayni's children. They were waiting for the right moment to use it on Varimore."

"But so long as Donica was on the throne," Wilmer said with a shrug, "the Carringtons had no reason to use the stone." He shook his head. "We had no idea what eggshells we were walking on, how important it was that Donica live."

They fell silent as they continued walking, and Ettoras let their words sink in before he spoke again, "What if you let me take the weapons to S'pru? They would be safe there."

Palesa made an irritable noise. "Weren't you listening to me, cub?"

Ettoras scowled. "I'm trying to help --!"

"No," Palesa said over him. "You're trying to help yourself!" She turned so abruptly, she almost trod on Ettoras' feet. He sputtered a protest when she clapped her small paw to his forehead and peered hard into his eyes. He could feel her probing light tingling his brain and tried to back away from her, but he couldn't move. The others had stopped as well and were simply watching what was happening.

Palesa dropped her paw from Ettoras' forehead and looked at him disapprovingly. "You wish to make yourself and Kayya immortal."

Motsumi shook his head wearily.

"So we can return to S'pru!" Ettoras protested angrily. "My mother has become mortal! There is no one there to govern! My subjects need me and --"

"We can not allow you to use the weapons," Motsumi said gravely. "Ettoras . . . I am sorry." He turned and continued on his way. The others followed him, and Ettoras stood in the grass a long moment, watching in frustration as they went.

That night, Ettoras decided he was going to steal the dagger and stone. Once he found Kayya and his mother, he could make them immortal - perhaps his father as well - and they could all return to S'pru together. It was because she was far from his father that Azrian had withdrawn, Ettoras was sure of it. If Azrian had other immortals to comfort her, she would be free of the her bitter isolation. The many pools of water in the CrystalPalace existed so that Azrian might speak through them: if she spoke directly to her mortal subjects, her voice would have shattered them to pieces. Her power had confined her as much as it had empowered her.

Ettoras couldn't wait to go home. He found Aonre as barbaric as it was beautiful. It pained him to see Motsumi and Palesa walking around in furs and skins when they would have been wearing pretty gowns and robes in S'pru. And the fact that foxes lived in the dirt was baffling to him. Aonre was a broken world that should perish as far as he was concerned. He never said it aloud, but he thought Hildrith'el was right. And he believed now more than ever that his mother was right for creating S'pru.

And yet, if it hadn't been for Wilmer, Ettoras would not feel as guilty for his thoughts. Upon first witnessing a group of foxhounds trying to kill them, Ettoras had been ready to believe all the dogs on Aonre were as cold and cruel. But Wilmer was a dog. And Wilmer was kind. And Wilmer treated him like a brother, with compassion and respect. Ettoras had been burned very badly by Ayni's fire, and as Palesa and Motsumi were healing him, it was Wilmer who held his paw and told him it would be okay, that he had suffered burns before, that Motsumi and Palesa knew what they were doing. Wilmer had been so kind.

They found an old burrow in which to make camp, and over supper, Ettoras found himself watching Motsumi and Wilmer carefully. They were the ones to observe, as they were the ones who had packs, and the dagger and stone were likely inside one of them. He caught Palesa's eye to find her watching him coldly and returned to his supper, but when she wasn't looking, he continued his furtive spying.

After supper, everyone slept around the fire, in the derelict sitting room of the abandoned home. Ettoras meant to pretend to fall asleep, but he wound up really falling asleep and didn't wake for five hours. When he did wake, the others were sleeping soundly, the fire was dwindling almost to a wisp, and he could see the silhouettes of the others as they breathed gently. Palesa's breasts rose and fell in the darkness, Wilmer's white tail flashed, and Motsumi's red mane fluttered from his face each time he breathed.

Motsumi was hugging his pack, while Wilmer was sleeping with his cheek on his own pack. Wilmer's waterskin was hanging out, and for some reason, Ettoras felt compelled to check it. He could hear the water calling, pulling, and crawled his way toward Wilmer. Wilmer was holding Palesa in his arms and smacked his lips lazily as Ettoras carefully pulled the waterskin free. There were a few terrible moments when he thought Wilmer would wake, but the Dalmatian never stirred. Nor did the others.

Ettoras squeezed the waterskin and was unsurprised to feel a stone and dagger inside. He smiled. Clever.

***

Motsumi, Palesa, and Wilmer sat up after Ettoras had gone. Motsumi quietly extended his paws toward the fire and the flames rekindled, springing to life and setting their weary faces aglow.

"It's dangerous out there," Wilmer said anxiously. "Should we really let the kid wander around the marches alone at night?"

"We will follow soon, my son," Motsumi said calmly to the fire. "Do not trouble yourself. We will let Ettoras live a little and hopefully learn a little."

"So," said Palesa and folded her arms, "how long until he realizes he's stolen a decoy?"