CHAPTER TWO

On the way to the Palace of Heavens, Tod discovered he'd forgotten where his brother's home was, which was perfectly understandable. He'd only been there twice before, and neither visit had gone very well. The elder gods shared the burden of being the first beings in existence, but that was all they shared.

Not that Tod had ever wished his brother ill. He understood that creating the universe had just been Desaphanus's method of passing the endless eons of elder godhood, and Tod respected that. Just the same, not speaking to one another had worked out very well, and dread bubbled up within him as Pira carried him towards the gleaming spires.

Then he remembered that his brother was dead. The idea offered him some comfort even as it chilled his thick, orcish bones.

He looked up at the angel carrying him aloft with a secure grip under his arms. "How did he die?"

Pira shrugged. "No one is really sure. One moment, he was perfectly fine, and the next, he made a ghastly hiss and keeled over. We thought he was merely tired at first. An odd enough occurrence for him to begin with, but he had been working very hard of late, trying to keep the cosmos together.

"Are you positive he's dead?"

"With a being of such unknowable power, who can say? None of us for certain."

This was very true, and Tod was hopeful that a mistake had been made. Losing his brother would be bad enough, but it would also mean that elder gods were not as immortal as they had always believed.

Mortality was not a concept Tod entertained with much enthusiasm. He'd always taken it for granted that his existence would be now and forever. Long after the stars were faded memories and Wa'suria was nothing more than a chunk of lifeless rock, he would be around. Desaphanus's death put that assumption in question, which went to show that even elder gods should be careful with their assumption.

"He's probably just sleeping," Tod mumbled to himself more than Pira.

"Probably," she agreed, although she didn't sound convinced. "We were hoping you could tell us."

The Palace of Heavens rested upon rolling white clouds. Rainbows bounced off the polished, perfectly cut crystal towers. A grand chorus of ten thousand divine angels, working on rotating shifts, filled the air with boisterous, awe-inspiring music every hour of every day. The tallest tower held the first star ever created, and its blinding light banished shadows from the heavens. Any mortal viewing this glorious creation, had any mortal ever been deemed worthy of the honor (and none had yet), would be struck senseless by the sight. But Tod was hardly a mortal, and to him, the Palace of Heavens was nothing more than a terrible eyesore. An exalted monument to an even more exalted ego.

Desaphanus seemed determined to prove himself the undeniable Lord of Creation, and he was that.

Tod, on the other hand, understood that one of the perks of nigh-omnipotence was that you didn't have to prove anything to anyone. Naturally, this had developed into a sore spot between the elder gods over the ages.

Tod remembered their last conversation many, many eons ago. He'd decided to visit his brother on the spur of the moment to do some catching up and perhaps suggest a few new fish species.

"Hey, Desaphanus, I've got some great new ideas."

"I'm busy at the moment, Tod," his brother had replied with a pretentious snort.

Tod didn't take it personally. Everything Desaphanus did smacked of complete and utter self-importance. As if bringing about the universe somehow made him better than everyone and everything else. Tod included.

"But I've got some great ideas for a fish. I call it a salmon. They swim upstream to..."

"Grand. Glorious. No fish could be more impressive, I'm sure. But I'm terribly swamped at the moment, so could you do me a favor and leave all your doubtless splendid fish designs with one of my assistants.

Thanks. Appreciate it, really."

Tod shrugged and loped away. (At the time, he had been wearing a gorilla's form.) He left without even saying good bye. Not that the elder gods every said good bye to one another. Good bye implied they might not see each other again, and with eternity before them, that concept never occurred to either.

Shortsighted perhaps, but even elder gods were only nigh-omniscient and fully capable of mistakes now and then.

Pira soared between the immense gilded silver doors and down the great hall. The Palace of Heavens was usually filled with activity as angels of every sort busied themselves with their appointed duties, but there was a grim emptiness today. Not a single servant could be seen. Not even the barest whisper of a breeze dared risk being heard. Except for the angelic chorus, which went on as always. With Pira carrying him, the five year walk from the entrance to the throne room took five minutes. The scores of angels who served Desaphanus were all gathered here. They formed a silent sea around the body of their creator.

Like his home, the form adopted by Desaphanus was designed with one thing in mind: to terrify and impress upon friend and foe alike the scope of his unimaginable power. He had several shapes he liked to wear, but this was the most used. The golden dragon's carcass was fifty miles from snout to tail with wings that could, quite literally, block out the sky and talons capable of rending continents. His tail could crack open the world with a casual swipe, and a single whispering breath could reduce Wa'suria to barren ash.

As Pira flew Tod towards his brother's head, the elder god noticed all Desaphanus's servants must have been here. The pale angels of death gathered near his left foot, while the green angels of life stood at the right. The blue angels of the sea and air collected around his midsection, while the red angels of fire and earth marshaled under the shadow of his great wings. There were many other varieties. Tod saw vibrant purple flocks and a horde of yellow-tinted servants. He had never bothered to learn their place in his brother's grand order. Or any of the other colors. He only new that there were thousands upon thousands, and that the Cat was better company than any of them.

It dawned up him that he hadn't said good bye to the Cat before setting off to the Palace of Heavens. He hoped she would be okay without him, but there was no reason to worry. Just the same, he decided to check on her as Pira carried him past Desaphanus's shoulders.

He extended his senses beyond his current physical incarnation and reached form the Palace of Heavens to his cottage. And he sensed nothing. His first reaction was that Wa'suria had spontaneously exploded without his brother to watch over it, but soon he realized the problem was not with the world, but himself.

His nigh-omniscient power refused to leave his orc body. He thought back to the last time he'd tried to see beyond his adopted physical form. At least fifteen thousand years. Hardly any time at all for an elder god, but enough to dull the talent apparently.

The angelic chorus around Desaphanus's snout spread out to give Tod and Pira room. A peculiar divine servant stood out from the crowd. Like all Desaphanus's personal minions, her form was female and shapely. But her head was that of an eagle, with its piercing gaze, and white owl wings grew from her back.

The Divine Wisdom of Desaphanus scowled. "Tod."

"Xyreen," he replied almost politely, but only out of consideration for her terrible loss.

It was the friendliest exchange to ever pass between the two. Tod turned his attention to his still brother, eager to be on his way.

One look told him just how serious this was. Desaphanus's scales, usually luminous as the purest light, were dull and lusterless. His massive jaws were wide open, and the mile long tongue had flopped out like a glistening road down his gullet. The dragon's eyes bugged out of their sockets. A lake of drool spread from his grimacing lips.

Tod glanced over his shoulder at the endless expanse of angels. Each wore the same face. The center of their existence teetered on the edge of the abyss. Their only purpose was to serve Desaphanus, and they looked to Tod to reassure them that purpose had not been lost.

"He's dead alright."

Not surprisingly, none of the gathered took the news very well. Particularly, Pira, the Righteous Anger of Desaphanus. Her Silver Sword fell to the marble floor. The weapon moaned a bloodcurdling shriek. It had never been intended to leave her hand. The confirmation of Desaphanus's death swept slowly through the sea of angels. Tod guessed it would be a few hours before those assembled near his brother's tail heard the news.

"If that's all you need me for, I could use a lift home. Anyone going my way?"

Xyreen focused on a single, bulging eyeball of her creator for a moment. "The Creator is not dead." She turned to the crowd and repeated the declaration, louder and more forceful.

Tod glanced at his blackened nails and shrugged. "Yes, he is."

Xyreen spun on her heels and marched up to him. "No, he isn't. Death, like all things, was brought forth by Desaphanus's will, and death, like all things, exists only to serve him."

"Maybe it caught him by surprise."

A collective gasp fell upon the throng.

Pira picked up her Silver Sword. "But he is Desaphanus. He knows all."

Xyreen launched into another of her heavy-handed verbalizations of Desaphanus's glorious power which Tod found more annoying by the moment. "Desaphanus walks in all ages, all places. Nothing in the cosmos occurs without his knowledge for his eyes see all that passes within his grand universe."

Tod didn't feel up to arguing about that particular piece of propaganda, but the truth was elder gods were only theoretically all-seeing. When there had been only the two of them and nothing else, it had been easy to keep tabs on things, but Desaphanus's cosmos was a complex, whirling chaos of possibilities. To know everything that happened within it every moment of every day was an impractical feat, even for an elder god. Not that Tod expected Xyreen, Pira, or any of the others around Desaphanus's corpse to understand this. They had been built to serve without question.

"Whatever," Tod sighed. He reached out with a spark of his near-infinite might and tried to twist space so that he might zip himself to his favorite stream and catch up on lost time.

Nothing happened, and this did not surprise him in the least. But space was a burden he didn't particularly care for, and he made a mental note to brush up on his power over it. This did nothing for his current situation. One which he found both annoying and entirely unnecessary.

"I am the only elder god here," he pointed out.

Xyreen snickered. "An elder god wearing an orc's form, unable to even carry yourself to the Palace of Heavens without help."

Tod wished for the eagle-headed angel to become a pillar of limestone. It didn't happen.

"Do you not see, my divine sisters, that this body is merely a vessel for Desaphanus's glorious power? It may die, but he cannot. Perhaps he has abandoned it for reasons only his unfathomable wisdom can understand. Perhaps he is testing us."

The gathered murmured quiet approval at this idea. The Maker was well-known for his tests. A trial of devotion here. A test of humility there.

"A test for what?" Tod asked.

"Our loyalty and capability," Xyreen replied after only a moment's thought. "He wishes us to keep the great order without his aid. And we must not fail him. After he has seen how fine a job we do tending his world, he shall return and praise us for our work."

Tod shook his head slowly. "You just don't get it, do you? Desaphanus would never leave the cosmos in somebody else's hands. It's his toy, and he doesn't share with anyone. Not even me, and I'm his brother."

Xyreen ignored him. "Hurry then. We must return to our sacred duties, but first we have to prepare his empty form for his return." She shouted orders, and the angels began the difficult task of rolling the giant tongue in its immense jaws and than closing the mouth and eyes. Each and every divine servant worked diligently in the effort as Tod sat on the floor and watched.

Pira appeared at his side. "He's dead, isn't he?"

"Yes."

"How can you be sure?"

Tod looked into the eyes of the Righteous Anger of Desaphanus and saw something he had never seen before. A face that had been made to always wear a snarl held sadness. He considered lying to her, but she deserved the truth.

"I'm sure."

She sat beside him. A single black tear rolled down her cheek. "What are we supposed to do now?

What am I supposed to do?"

He put an arm around her shoulder and struggled to find the right words. He didn't come across any, and even if he had possessed his full nigh-omnipotent power, he still wouldn't have.

And as the elder god and the crimson angel sat in grim silence, two thoughts came to Tod. He needed to find out what had killed Desaphanus so that he might avoid the same fate.

And how he so missed the Cat.