He smiled as Marcus entered the room and took the few steps necessary to meet him.
“It’s been a long time, master,” Bellos said.
Marcus chuckled. “I’m no more your master than you’re my apprentice anymore, not since you agreed to become the God of Magic, but it has been a long time. Nathrac said you wanted to speak with me.”
“How have you been?”
Bellos led Marcus to the chairs, and they took their seats.
“I’m tired. I’ve been alive far too long, but we’ve discussed this before.”
Bellos nodded. “Yes, I suppose we have.”
“Why did you want to see me after all these years?”
“I wanted to discuss your new apprentice.”
“Gavin? Who is he to you? For that matter, who is he to me? He’s a member of my House, and I don’t see how that’s possible.”
“Don’t you, Marcus?” Bellos grimaced as if tasting something foul. “I never did like that name, you know. You really could have chosen something else, but I digress. There’s one branch of your family about which you know nothing.”
Marcus’s nostrils flared. His jaw clenched for a moment before saying, “Gerrus…the traitor.”
“That’s not fair, and you know it. If your family had not been murdered by Lornithar’s Temple Guardsmen, would you have been so quick to join the war? Gerrus wanted his family safe more than anything. It tore his heart to leave you and Marin, but he couldn’t bring himself to risk his wife and children.”
“So, who is Gavin?”
Bellos sighed. “Gavin is Gerrus’s grandson…many, many times removed. I know you’ve never forgiven Gerrus for saving his family by joining those who fled the Godswar, but I also know how much you regret never locating the refugee world to reconcile with him. Part of that is my fault; the people needed you during the Founding. Don’t hate Gavin for your brother’s choice; perhaps, this is the multiverse’s way of giving you a chance to make peace with him.”
Marcus snorted. “I don’t believe that for a moment, but the old man is an incorrigible meddler. He never did like my reaction to Gerrus’s choice.”
Silence reigned for several moments, until Marcus took a deep breath and released it as a heavy sigh.
“Do you know anything of his life after he left here?”
“The refugees came to look to him for leadership and guidance. He did not want that, but they didn’t give him much of a choice. They were not alone on the world Nesta found for them, and the refugees would’ve died, were it not for Gerrus and the other wizards. They defended the refugees with the knowledge Gerrus learned at your father’s laboratory until they could build fortifications. He was very old when he died, and it was a peaceful passing. His wife was by his side, and they were surrounded by children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren.”
Marcus nodded as he stared into flames in the hearth.
After a time, Marcus shifted his gaze to Bellos and asked, “Was Gavin’s pedigree all that you wished to discuss?”
“I know the old man said Gavin should be trained as only you can, but I wanted to clarify that. I ask that you train him like you trained us, for I fear he will have need of all the knowledge you possess and then some.”
Chapter 11
Gavin stared up at the Temple of Valthon. The sick rooms were in the basement, and he was too busy looking at the city to notice the Temple when he left yesterday. Like every other building in the ‘Old City,’ the temple looked to be one, solid piece of marble. This included the columns supporting the massive portico that stretched out in front of the main entrance. The columns themselves were fluted cylinders, stretching up to plain, square capitals, and about twenty-five feet back from the columns, the main building began. Two sets of massive, double doors were set at equidistant locations from the edges of the face, and a young woman sat behind a simple desk at the right set of doors.
Gavin realized Kiri was leaving him, approaching the young woman, and he tore himself away from his inspection of one of the columns. Words floated through his mind like Doric and Ionic, but he couldn’t piece together what those words meant or why he would think of them when he was looking at columns. He decided those words were simply other pieces of the huge mystery of who he was.
“I have come to speak with the Royal Priest,” Kiri said as she reached the young woman.
Gavin turned just in time to see the young woman do a double take, and she just stared at Kiri, her mouth gaping open.
“Is there a problem?” Gavin asked as he approached.
The young woman shifted her attention to Gavin, and as if by reflex, her eyes lowered to the silver disc resting atop his heart. Gavin watched her eyes widen as some of the color left her cheeks, and her mouth snapped shut. The woman then looked back at the small amulet hanging around Kiri’s neck before looking back at Gavin’s medallion again. Her jaw worked as if to speak, but no sound escaped her lips.
“Are you okay?” Gavin asked.
Kiri leaned close to Gavin and whispered, “Well.”
Gavin nodded and said, “Are you well?”
The young woman shook herself, and she bowed her head as she spoke, “Forgive me, milord. I wasn’t aware any of your House yet lived. I bid thee welcome to the Temple of Valthon. I am Acolyte Laila, honored to serve as the Temple Greeter today.”
Gavin longed to ask her what she knew about his House, but he was afraid that would mean they’d never get in for Kiri to speak with Ovir.
“It’s nice to meet you, Laila,” Gavin said, “and I don’t see there’s any harm done. I’m Gavin Cross. My friend did ask to speak with Ovir, though. Is he available?”
The young woman glanced at the time piece sitting on the corner of her desk and pursed her lips. “He should be finished with the morning service by now, milord, but he runs long from time to time. You might be able to catch him in Valthon’s shrine. If he isn’t there, one of the attending clerics will be able to help you.”
“I hope the day is good to you, Laila,” Gavin said. “Thank you for your help.”
Stepping through the open, double doors, Gavin passed through one of the archways allowing entrance to a statuary, and a deep warmth of welcome suffused his entire being.
The space was an open-air atrium supported by arches, and statues stood on each side of the space, separated by columns that supported the arches. Four statues occupied the left, with five on the right. In the center of the space, a dais-shin-high at most (depending on the shin)-held a final statue.
The first statue on the left depicted a tall, broad-shouldered man in plate armor. The hilts of two swords rose above each shoulder, while a mace hung at his left side and a double-headed hammer at his right. His arms crossed his chest, and his expression seemed to say, I’m ready for this; are you? A plaque on the statue’s base read, “Kalthor, God of War.”
The second statue depicted a woman in a flowing dress. Her long hair was gathered with a bow and hung in front of her left shoulder. She reached out with her right hand as if to say, Come; let me help you. The plaque beneath her statue read, “Padola, Goddess of Healing and Life.”
The third statue on the left depicted a man. He stood about Gavin’s height and had none of Kalthor’s bulk. He wore a robe, and a dragon-head medallion rested atop his heart. His left hand held an open book, and his head leaned forward as if he’d just been reading. He had a Vandyke beard. His expression said, Oh, hello; how long have you been there? His plaque read, “Bellos, God of Magic.”