Title-- The Demon-God of Jubagh (book two, part three)
Rating and Warnings-- G; mild language.
Cast-- Rai Gerring, defected black magician (human man); Brandon Styhan, exiled paladin-warrior (human man); Lhafa Softstep, blind voodoo warrior (baghan woman).
Previously-- Book One: Jubagh. Earlier parts of Book Two: Sivef. The part right before this one.



The month of traveling between suns seemed to pass far more quickly than the previous two-week journey. Sivef's sun had a dozen worlds spinning like discs around it, where Jubagh's sun had only four; navigating was trickier, and the trio watched from their study room on the top deck as the warship rode the solar winds into the heart of the cluster. The vista through the windows was breathtaking as the Light's Hammer swung its bow towards Sivef itself. After being skirted by much smaller ships, the warship drew abreast of a merchanter and began coasting lazily over the world below.

Arista opened the outer door of the study room and stepped inside, still clad in casual leathers. She hadn't bothered to wear her armor for the duration of the trip, although Erick had stayed in his platemail. "It's time," she said simply. "Your window of opportunity is small; we're drifting over Sivef. Come on." She turned and led them out to the central deck, where the flying serpent awaited them. "Take the lifeboat down - it will pick a suitable place to land - and head north from there. We had to place you a few days from any major village, so that people would not realize you came from our warship. The story on how you got here and why is your own to concoct."

Brandon clambered awkwardly up the serpent's flank, leaning down to give Rai a hand up before strapping himself in. Lhafa wasn't moving, staying firmly several paces from the smooth-scaled creature. "C'mon, Softstep, we went through this last time. It's not a demon," the exile called down impatiently. He leaned down, one arm dangling and the other anchoring himself to the bar across the front of his seat, and snapped his fingers. "Grab my hand and I'll help you up."

"Make that noise where I am to sit," she replied, focusing in on his hand. Raising a brow, Brandon shrugged and leaned forward, snapping his fingers near the saddle in front of him. "Again," she said, and he obliged. She stood a moment, quiet and calculating.

Then, gracefully, Lhafa sprang forward and was up and into the seat in three strides. She looped her tail around one leg as she felt around for the straps and began to buckle them around her waist and thighs.

"...this is why I wanted to keep her with us," Brandon laughed to Arista, shaking his head. He'd barely had time to move his hand out of the way before she was just there. "Any words of wisdom before we get sent into this mess?" he asked, glancing down at the young woman.

"I'm afraid not," the knight replied, looking up at them. She tossed him a cloth bag, and he caught it and secured it with an extra strap. "Your clothing is in there." The serpent began to coil, moving sinuously. "Return to your landing place when you are ready to come back to us. We will stay nearby, but it may take us a week or two to get the lifeboat down to you." Arista stepped backwards as the creature lifted its sleek head and slithered starboard. "Good luck!" she shouted after them.

Brandon managed a wave to Arista before the serpent dove over the side and flung them downwards at a terrifying speed. He swore under his breath, the winds of their descent tearing the words from his lips unheard, and shielded his face with one hand and clung desperately to the saddle-bar with the other. The wind shrieked past his ears for at least a minute before gravity took hold of his stomach and tried to drag it through his seat; he opened his eyes when he realized they had slowed. "I'm going to be sick," Rai groaned behind him.

"Not on me, blast it," Brandon muttered over his shoulder, feeling his stomach flip as the serpent soared over the treeline. It was looking for a place to land - already, they were here. The trees were barren and brown, some few patches still clinging to green with needle-like leaves; the air was cold and sharp.

The opalescent serpent roiled to the side and twisted downwards, coming to an easy halt inches above a patch of open land. A few rotting trees indicated some form of natural disaster had opened up the forest to the sky.

Rai unbuckled himself and simply fell off the serpent, rolling to his feet and fleeing unsteadily to the other side of a log. Brandon and Lhafa pretended to not hear the sounds of retching as they unstrapped themselves. "Careful, Softstep. The ground's dirt, but real uneven. Go right and you'll have a better shot of not breaking an ankle."

"I will not be injured," she replied, swinging one long leg over the serpent's back and pushing off from its flank in a leap. She landed lightly on the only square foot of even ground in the dry clearing.

"I just don't get how you do that," Brandon muttered, sliding down the creature's flank and stumbling when he landed on a gnarled root. "I've never seen a race half as graceful as baghans are, and you can't even see where you're jumping."

"It is intuitive." Lhafa shrugged lightly, ears perking when the ex-paladin moved away from the serpent. "What do you carry?"

Brandon jostled the cloth bag. "Our new clothes." He shivered as the wind sliced across his bare skin. "Hope they're warm." Stifling a grin, he raised his voice. "Hey Rai! Quit puking and get over here. It's time to play dress-up." He glanced up as the serpent rose into the sky, weightless by all standards, and meandered through the clouds towards the distant warship.

The magician joined them slowly, looking haggard and more pale than usual. "Do not you think," he said awkwardly in sivefan, "we should practice this language here? We need practice. Lhafa still best."

"I think," Brandon replied in baghan, "that I'd rather no one be listening to us until we get our bearings."

"And you don't want to practice," Rai rejoined in baghan as well, smirking slightly.

"...and I don't want to practice," Brandon admitted with a laugh. He opened the cloth bag and began handing articles of clothing out. "Let's all face outwards while we get dressed and avoid offending anyone," he added absently, turning away from the other two with his new clothes in arm.

Lhafa made a strange sound; it was almost like laughter. "I think it is a moot point," she smiled, "since I cannot see and you are both men." She turned away anyways, though, as did Rai.

"You know," Brandon muttered, after he had dressed. "Arista has good taste in practicality." He tugged at the long sleeves of his undershirt, then adjusted the fit of his overlying vest. It was a sturdy, warm, layered outfit in simple browns and greys with a belt and durable boots - perfect for wandering in the chilly wilderness. "Bet she knew it'd be winter here." He glanced over his shoulder, then blinked at Rai. "Not changing?"

The dark-robed magician grinned at his comrade. "She got me clothing much like yours, only black and darker grey. But I'm not going to go without my robes, even though I feel unusually heavy now. Too much cloth on my bones." He briefly lifted his robes to show off fitted leggings, then flexed newly-gloved fingers experimentally. "Caster gloves. She thought ahead."

Brandon eyed his fingerless gloves and grinned. "If I had a sword, I might actually be dangerous," he remarked in an amused voice. "Softstep, you done?"

"Yes," she murmured. The men turned to look, and Rai blinked.

"...how did she manage to find something to fit you so well?" he asked, eyeing the baghan. "Your build isn't exactly something that any human could hope to match. Who makes a non-custom outfit like that?"

Lhafa shrugged, tucking her talisman beneath the collar of her tunic. "Perhaps she has a good eye for measurements." She ran her palm along the soft fabric. "It is strange to wear so much, but she supplied me with clothing similar to my own to wear beneath this."

"Humans call that underwear, Lhafa," Rai explained, hiding a grin, while Brandon choked back a howl of laughter. "Humans like wearing a lot of clothes, and layers will keep us warm and less prone to getting caught in brambles." He chuckled. "I admit, I find it amusing that Arista actually kept with our original colors."

The blind woman tilted her head in the direction of Rai's voice. "What colors do I wear?"

"That same sort of tawny-brown that your other clothing is, and grey-white. It fits you well. Ah, from what I can tell, anyways." He cleared his throat, then glanced at the bag that had held their new clothing. It still bulged awkwardly. "What's left, Brandon?"

"Two cloaks, from what I can tell. Guess she knew you wouldn't give up the robes." The exile grinned widely, fishing out the cloaks and tossing one to Lhafa without thinking.

She caught the hem easily and traced the edge until she found the loop of the hood. Experimentally, she slung it around her shoulders, closing the clasp around her neck. "This is strange to wear. It is very bulky and loud." She twisted her torso, swishing the knee-length cloak behind her experimentally.

"It'll help us stay warm, trust me," Brandon muttered, adjusting his own cloak across his broad shoulders. "I guess we head north from h--"

"Shh," Lhafa whispered, holding up a hand in his direction. Her ears were twitching as she slowly turned her head as though scanning the treeline. "I hear a voice."

All three fell silent, and the cold wind carried the faint sound of singing to them.