“You defy me at your peril, demon child!”
“You threaten me at yours!”
And then, like a tap suddenly turned off, she felt Shananara let go of her power. R'shiel felt it go, and staggered under the weight of Xaphista's wrath, but the Harshini Queen could not hold her power against the might of the God's anger. But as the torrent through the Seeing Stone dwindled to nothing, Xaphista let out a cry of unimaginable pain. Although she wasn't certain, R'shiel guessed that across the length and breadth of Karien, the thrall was slowly being shaken by his followers. In the aftermath of R'shiel's storm of pleasure and joy, one overriding, overwhelming feeling now consumed the hearts of his believers.
Doubt.
“It's over, Xaphista. The Kariens have begun to doubt you. How long will they belong to you once Kalianah or Zegarnald walk among your followers? They are yours no longer!”
“You will never be strong enough to defeat me, demon child.”
“I'm not trying to defeat you, Xaphista. I just want your people to doubt you.”
The Overlord looked down on her with blazing eyes. “You cannot take my people from me!”
“You think not? You've spent centuries convincing them the others gods don't exist. Every time a Karien turns round now, there will be a Primal God waiting for them. I'll flood the world with miracles. I will have Jondalup turn every human who games into a winner. I will have Dacendaran turn every person into a thief. Cheltaran will heal every wound, every sick child, every dying old woman. I'll make the Primal Gods answer every single prayer your people utter. You'll be so deep in divine intervention that there won't be a Karien left who can deny the presence of the Primal Gods within a month.”
“Such recklessness would destroy the natural balance of the universe.”
“I don't care.”
She truly didn't, and Xaphista knew she wasn't lying. R'shiel had not been raised among the Harshini. Despite everything they had tried to teach her at Sanctuary, despite everything Brak had explained to her since, she still did not quite understand the place the gods held in the scheme of things. It was her ignorance that lent her threat its power. No full-blooded Harshini could have contemplated such a course of action. R'shiel did not appreciate the consequences of her behaviour. She was a child who had accidentally stumbled over a weapon of mass destruction and wanted to use it to get her own way, totally oblivious to the fact that it would destroy her along with her foes.
The Overlord glared at the other gods, who had remained silent for the entire exchange.
“You cannot hide behind this child. Each one of you will fade into nothing as I grow in strength.”
“You cannot destroy us, Xaphista,” Zegarnald boomed, unable to contain his anger. “Look at you! Already the doubt begins to take its toll.”
Zegarnald was right. In the short time Xaphista had been in the Hall, he had visibly diminished. R'shiel was not sure how long she had before his priests restored order. Not sure how long the doubt and uncertainty of his believers would last, or how long the pleasure she had swamped them with would distract them from their god.
“We will have an accounting for this, demon child.” The statement was as close to an admission of defeat as Xaphista was likely to get. He was not conceding victory and he wasn't going to quit without a fight. He turned on the God of War savagely, even as he dwindled a little more. “I have no need to destroy you, Zegarnald. When the whole world lies prostrate at my feet there will be no wars and you will be obsolete... Each of you represents a vice that my believers eschew. You, Kalianah, and you, Dacendaran - when every human believes it is a sin to love or steal, there will be no need for you, no need for any of you... Enjoy your dying moments, Primal Gods. Before long you will be nothing more than sad, forgotten legends.”
Xaphista's defiant words were at odds with his stature. He was no taller than Brak now, and he no longer had the power to assume the form he chose. A demon stood before them, larger than normal, but still raging defiantly. It was not a smooth transition. He surged up in size every now and then as pockets of his followers denied what they had seen and felt, but he was dwindling fast. But how much longer did they have before doubt gave way to habit? Before wonder gave way to fear? Before his people shrugged off what they felt, or worse, attributed it to the Overlord and their belief in him came surging back, like the backdraft after a savage explosion?
Not long, R'shiel knew. Not very long at all.
“Go!” she cried to the Primal Gods. “Go out among his people! Now! While you have the chance!”
Most of the gods vanished abruptly and R'shiel became aware of the noise. A wailing arose that seemed to be coming from everywhere at once. She discovered she was rigid with tension. The Citadel and the plain surrounding it were filled with incredulous, panicked shouting.
She turned to Xaphista, looking down at him as he shrank back to a demon no larger than Dranymire.
And then she felt it.
On the very edge of her awareness.
The backlash.
“Brak!” There was more than a little panic in her voice as she cried out to him. She did not have the skill, or even the energy, to do what was needed now. Brak did, however. The crude iron cage built by the Defenders flew through the air, guided by Brak's mind, rather than his hands. He could no more touch it than R'shiel could. It landed with a clatter over the cringing demon that had once been a god - and would be a god again, as soon as the racing wave of belief hit them. Xaphista howled his outrage and then his pain as he snatched at the bars of the cage. The three staff heads welded to the bars absorbed his power as easily as they had tortured the little demon caught by his priests when R'shiel had tried to fool the Quorum into believing that a demon meld was really the First Sister.
And then it hit her.
R'shiel fell hard, only vaguely aware of Brak calling out to her, only dimly seeing Shananara as she collapsed beside her. Xaphista leapt at the bars of his cage, but the force of the backlash hit her and she plunged into unconsciousness before she could discover if her trap was sufficient to contain him.
CHAPTER 60
When R'shiel finally awoke, it was to find Death standing over her.
The Hall was quiet; even the gods were gone. Daylight, splintered by the stained glass windows, striped the floor in coloured light. Her head was pounding, her body wrung out and weak. R'shiel felt like she had been hit by a falling building.
“Am I going to die now?”
Death looked down at her and shook his head. He was once again in the form of a Harshini, the same benign form he had assumed to escort Korandellan into the Underworld.
With a start, R'shiel realised what that meant and pushed herself up painfully. Brak lay not far from her, his skin pallid. He wasn't breathing. She scrambled on her hands and knees to his side and shook him, but he showed no sign of life.
“You've taken him already!” she accused, tears spilling down her face.
“It was the backlash, demon child. It affected all the Harshini.”
She glanced over at Shananara, who also lay unconscious on the floor of the Hall. “Are the other Harshini dead?”
“No. The Citadel will not permit a Harshini to die within his walls. They were protected. The Harshini outside the Citadel would have been too far out of range to suffer more than the edges of it.”