Death & Magic (The Barefoot Healer, volume I)

Death & Magic chapter 31

Eventually, the battering stopped. Is it safe to come out now? Adramal asked.

What made you think it wasn’t? Lelsarin’s voice wavered.

Slowly, Adramal dismantled the wall. Behind it, Lelsarin sat in the middle of empty whiteness. Her face and clothes were dirtier than usual.

You’re not supposed to do magic without permission, Lelsarin said.

And you’re not supposed to treat my head like an anvil, Adramal replied, so that makes us even.

Lelsarin stood up, cautiously, as though the movement was painful. She blew at the surroundings, and the whiteness retreated like fog. In its place appeared a landscape of rolling hills with occasional trees and bushes, reminiscent of the countryside around Thuren. Lelsarin smiled, and Adramal took that to mean she’d returned to her senses. She didn’t apologise for throwing a tantrum, but then she never apologised for anything.

Adramal pushed her chair back. I need to tell somebody about this vandalism, she said.

No, said Lelsarin, horrified. No no no. You’re not supposed to draw attention to yourself, remember?

Adramal sighed. What do you think has been cut out?

For someone who’s praised for her intelligence, you can be extraordinarily dense sometimes, said Lelsarin.

If I want to be insulted, I’ll go and talk to Grenur.

Lelsarin held her doll close to her face for a few moments, as though listening to it. Have you ever wondered about the names of the days of the fortnight?

Not really. You’ve got to call them something so you can keep track of time.

If the names are arbitrary, said Lelsarin, you might at least pick a category that has enough members to go around. If there are fourteen days in a fortnight, why are only thirteen of them named after Gods?

I don’t know... I just assumed —

Don’t assume.

There’s another God? said Adramal.

Was.

What do you mean, “was?”

He’s dead.

Adramal’s mouth hung open for a while. She snapped it shut when she realised an apprentice was staring at her. I’m sorry, she said. I’m going to return this book to the shelf, and then I’m going back to my room to sleep, and we’ll see if you make any more sense when I wake up.

I won’t.

Gods can’t die, said Adramal. If They could, They wouldn’t be Gods. She closed the book and stood up.

We think They’re immortal because Their priests and Their scriptures tell us They are, said Lelsarin. If one of Them had died, do you think the rest of Them would let it be known?

Adramal put the book on the shelf. Now you’re just trying to catch the wind, she said. Admit it — you’ve lost the argument.

Who said we were having one?

She left the library, smiling and nodding to a couple of apprentices on the way out. So there was a fourteenth God, and He died, and the missing pages are about Him?

Yes.

Why censor the book, then? said Adramal. I thought if a priest didn’t approve of a book, he burned the whole thing.