Fantasy

Would you raise the old gods?

Hey,

Before we check in with Evarian, I have exciting news! Melinda, my scribe, will be at the Ripped Bodice in Brooklyn, NY for a panel on May 24. The panel is from 7-9 pm EST, but Melinda will probably arrive early so she can find the place and check it out! She’ll hang around for a little while afterwards too. So if you are in the NY metro area, come meet her!

All we know about the panel is when and where it’s happening and that it has something to do with Kickstarter. And you know, your boy checked the events page for the bookstore and googled a lot. But nothing came up.

So it might be a secret event because it’s not even on the bookstore’s event page yet. Wait a minute… The organizers just sent us a link to the event.

Melinda’s bio is not correct. She is not participating in a romance event on Kickstarter because she doesn’t write much romance. But she does write lots of magical mayhem and action-packed adventures. Many of them star me!

Who am I? I am Ran, the son of the nicest mage around. Together, we unravel magical mysteries and smackdown monsters! Read our adventures here.

And now, here’s Evarian and a picture of a chapter in Gateway to Hell, book 1 of the Rogue Gods trilogy.

Melinda is still writing the 3rd book of the trilogy, Storm the Gates. That book has 47 chapters as of today. How many more do the characters need to defeat the villains and save the world?

Evarian is not answering. Maybe our next protagonist who we’ll meet next week will know. We’ll just have to ask her, now won’t we?

But for now, let’s return to Evarian’s part in this adventure:

Rogue Gods #1: Gateway To Hell

History Is Tricky (Chapter 5, scene 2)

“What are you talking about? Most of your pantheon fell at the end of the war, and they’re in Hell. The few who backed Heaven are scattered about this world.” Evarian waved to the forested ridge, standing in the distance, beyond the ruins.

“You didn’t answer my question. If you could raise the old gods and fetch them from their prisons, would you do it?” Uncle Hithaglier still stood, facing him with his hand extended.

Was he crazy? Doing something like that would risk another war and anger the Creator of everything, including his delusional uncle. It must be old age, addling his mind. Evarian couldn’t figure out what else would cause it. No one sane would want to challenge the Creator.

“Well? Would you do it if you had a way?” Uncle Hithaglier let his arm fall to his side, and he rested his hand on the cylindrical bulge under his embroidered tunic. Something was sticking out of a pocket in his trousers.

A bad feeling sliced through Evarian like a knife made of ice, and he shivered. “What did you do, uncle?”

“While I was in that library in Hell, I found a spell.” Uncle Hithaglier reached into his pocket under his tunic and withdrew a rolled-up scroll that was longer than his hands.

Evarian didn’t want to ask about the scroll, but that was his role in this family drama. So he might as well get on with it. Mom would want to know what her twin brother was up to, anyway. “What does the spell do?”

Somehow, he asked that with a straight face, and without rolling his eyes. I deserve an award for this. But there wouldn’t be one, just a trip home if he was lucky. Evarian suppressed a sigh. It was so unfair that he couldn’t teleport himself home and get out of this strange conversation.

“It says it can summon any god. If it does what it says, then we can bring back the old pantheons and restore our power.” Uncle Hithaglier waved the scroll like a baton.

Evarian felt his eyes widen, and they threatened to pop out in shock. “That’s a dangerous spell. You should put it back where you found it.” And his uncle should definitely not use it or even touch it in case that could ignite the spell.

“No, I should use it to return us to glory!” Uncle Hithaglier unrolled the scroll then glared at it like it just offended him.

“What’s wrong?” Evarian hoped his uncle grabbed the wrong scroll, and he just found out it held a recipe for stew or some other mundane thing instead of a powerful summoning spell.

“A human mage must perform the rite it describes.” Uncle Hithaglier rolled up the scroll and glared at it like he could will the thing to allow him to use it.

Evarian sat on a section of a collapsed column as relief washed over him. Thank God for picky spells. “Well, then there’s your answer. I can’t use it. I’m not a human mage.” Nope. He was half human and half of a reduced deity that never fell. Sometimes, I don’t know what I am.

Uncle Hithaglier tilted his head like he was listening to someone, but no one was there except them. He nodded. “Yes, that makes sense.”

“What does? Who are you listening to?” Evarian glanced around just to make sure no one showed up when he wasn’t looking. After all, he heard a faint buzzing, like the drone of insects. Maybe his uncle heard voices in his head? That would explain his strange request.

“I need you to take this sixteen years into the past. Yes, that will work better. If our pantheon’s restored in the past, when you were just a wee thing, then you’ll grow up like a proper demigod, with the power that should have been yours, not like a ghost, hiding from the magic haters. They should fear you, not the other way around.” Uncle Hithaglier strode toward him, the scroll in his hand.

“No, I won’t do it.” Evarian shook his head. “It’s too dangerous to change the past, even in a small way. Doing so could split the timeline or alter the future, and Mother would be furious if she found out.”

Uncle Hithaglier’s face reddened. “Your mother lives like a human and she lets humans order her around like she’s a servant. I’d kill them for that, but she’d hate me for it.”

“They don’t order her around. That’s not how things are.” Evarian rose and felt anger heat his face and probably turn it red too. Sometimes he wished for a darker complexion that didn’t flush with anger or any other emotions.

He couldn’t sit there and listen to his uncle bad mouth his father when the man had never been unkind to anyone. “Why do you care about how my mother lives? She’s happy living a simple life. Not everyone wants people to fawn all over them.”

Uncle Hithaglier held both hands up in surrender to placate him. “That’s true. I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s not my place to judge.”

But Evarian couldn’t let this go, not when he was grateful his mom gave him and his siblings a normal life. “No, it’s not. You like to gallivant around. Mom doesn’t. She wanted a home and a measure of peace, and after centuries of roaming, she found it thirty years ago when she married my father. Don’t you dare say anything bad about my family.”

“I’m sorry. I was out of line. Will you forgive me?” Uncle Hithaglier extended his hand like a peace offering, but it was the one holding the scroll.

Evarian waited for the storm of emotions roiling around inside him to calm down before nodding. “Of course, I forgive you. You’re my uncle.” But he didn’t shake his uncle’s hand because he’d touch the spell, and he must avoid that since he didn’t know what would trigger it.

“Then will you take this to the past for me? There were more mages then.” Uncle Hithaglier shook the scroll.

Evarian shook his head. “No, I won’t endanger the timeline or go against my mother’s teachings. Take me home and get someone else to do your bidding..”

“Not until you agree to help me.” Hithaglier turned to Evarian with a sly smile.

Evarian turned his back on him. “No, I won’t help you with this. Ask for something else.”

“Fine. I’ll bring back the old days without your help!” With that, Hithaglier teleported away.

Evarian stood alone in the ruined temple. At least it still had a roof, but that was all it had going for it. Am I still in my own time?

***

Find out next week. Don’t forget to follow the Kickstarter, so you know when it launches. Guerren is on the right. Rosalie is on the left.

This chaotic duo will either save the timeline and the world or destroy both. Only one of them will have fun doing it. You can guess which one.

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