Title-- The Demon-God of Jubagh (book two, part seven)
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); Jujinkajou, native guide (shapechanger Sivefi man).
Previously-- Book One: Jubagh. Earlier parts of Book Two: Sivef. The part right before this one.



The holy man let out a loud groan and shifted his weight, his clothing rubbing audibly against the dirt. She allowed her hands to fall from where they encircled her hanging talisman; she placed a palm on his chest, feeling the rise and fall as he breathed. "Can you hear me?" she asked, speaking in her native tongue. "Are you in pain?"

"Sof--?... aw, shit. When did I fall over?" the holy man grunted, trying to sit up. She applied weight and he didn't rise, though he lifted a hand to grab her slender wrist lightly.

She didn't move. "Please, stay still. The spirit touched you, then you fell unconscious. I also had to .. restrain Rai. He should wake up shortly." She angled her face up and then side to side; her brows furrowed. "The spirit is gone now. I do not sense it."

"Do all baghans adapt so bloody well to being crippled? Your blasted calm gets unnerving sometimes," the holy man growled, finally removing her hand from his chest and sitting up. "I'm fine. The thing didn't hurt me. It just... showed me ... images."

She would have blinked in surprise, had her eyelids been intact. "You received a vision?"

"A message, I'd say." The holy man released her wrist and she leaned back again, settling her opposite hand on the robed man's chest. His breathing was soft and regular. "He'll be alright, you said? What'd you do?"

"Stopped his air," she replied simply, unapologetic. "He was trying to speak to chant. Why did he lose control?"

"Hells if I know, Softstep," he muttered. "Rai doesn't usually lose his cool. Letting a demon manifest back on Jubagh was a really bloody bad sign. Maybe he just slipped up again. Or maybe black mages don't do so well with giant walking things." He was in a foul mood; he stood up and brushed himself off with a huff. "Didn't help that I tripped over your hellspawned puppy, either."

"What is a puppy?"

The holy man heaved a sigh. "The Sivefi. I was being mean and calling it a young, stupid, domesticated animal." She angled her face upwards and gave him a silent, eyeless look until she heard him fidget and turn away. "Bloody thing was at my knees," he muttered, sulking.

Without replying, she turned back to the robed man, lightly tracing her way from his chest to his neck to his face. She hovered her palm near his lips and nose, checking again that he was breathing well, then followed the contours of his strange face with her hooved fingertips. Idly, she brushed the shaggy hair from his forehead and ears.

"Where is thebigman going?" came a soft, raspy voice, devolving into a whine at the end of the question. She turned her head towards the Sivefi's hesitant voice and extended the hand that she was not resting on the robed man's forehead. The cold nose and thick muzzle smushing against her palm was already becoming familiar.

"He walks to calm himself," she replied in the sivefan tongue, stroking her fingertips along the rougher top of the changer's head. The quill-like fur there crackled like dry leaves under her touch, but it was not brittle enough to crumble or snap. "He will not leave us."

"Why did you hurt thelittleman?" the Sivefi whined, his fur rustling as he ducked low to the ground.

"He would have .. offended .. the god," she answered, turning her face towards the robed man again. She lifted her palm from his forehead and swept her smooth hooves along the contour of his face. "He is not hurt. Just unconscious. He will wake soon."

As if on cue, the robed man let out a quiet groan, cut off quickly as his body tensed. "Lhafa...?" he said tentatively, probably looking at her. She took her hand from his face and nodded mutely. "What... happened?.."

"You freaked and she throttled you," the holy man answered for her, rejoining them with loud steps. "The thing touched me and I passed out. You hurt?"

"My throat feels .. somewhat tender," the robed man replied, and his clothing rustled as he sat up gingerly. "But I'm not hurt, no. Are you? You're not known to just pass out, Brandon." He sounded concerned as he pulled himself to his feet - or perhaps the holy man had lent him a hand. Quietly, she stood as well, though she did not take her hand from the Sivefi's muzzle.

"To put it in Softstep's words, the thing gave me a vision," the holy man grumbled. "It must've recognized the Lightworker marking on me from other exiles. It showed me some of what they've done in this area. Fire, death, chaos... real hells-raisers. Ironic. I guess it knew we weren't gonna do the same thing, or it woulda killed us, I think."

"It was made of sticks and fur, Brandon," the robed man countered. "Do you really think it could have slain us all?"

"If it made you freak out that bad by sheer proximity, and it knocked me out with a feather-touch... yeah, yeah I think it could've, Rai." The holy man sounded irritated. "Either way, looks like Jazzy and his pals have been making a fine mess of things. Pissing off the spirits and the traders both."

"...I'm sorry, Brandon," the robed man murmured. He sighed quietly. "Well, since neither of us seem to be hurt, we should probably continue north. The faster we get there and see what's going on with Jazerin and his men, the better." He paused, then touched her shoulder lightly; she angled her face towards the sound of his voice. "Lhafa? Maybe you should learn what you can about these living spirits from the Sivefi. That one didn't want us dead, but who knows if all of them are so lenient."

She nodded, then carefully knelt and cupped the changer's jaws in both hands. "Ju'jou," she murmured, "we wish to continue. As we walk, can you tell me more about the gods?"

He whined, huffing warm air into her face. His breath smelled faintly of meat. "I can but I shouldnot. Offworlders arenotsupposedtoknow details!" She waited, patiently, until he whined again and relented. "If you donottell anyoneelse whatItellyou, I willtell you. Justyouthree, though! I willget introuble if others know." He ducked his head.

She smiled and stroked the top of his mane again. "Thank you, Ju'jou." She rose again with liquid grace and drew her hands back, nearly set off-balance when the Sivefi immediately pressed himself against her long legs.

"I willlead youthree well," he whined softly, his tail dragging on the ground as he reluctantly detached himself and began walking northwards again. The noises he made now - the fur dusting the earth, dragging pawsteps, little whines - made him easier than ever to follow, and she trailed him deftly. "Thegods protect theirpart of thelands. They look like theirlands sometimes, like thatone did. Someofthem look like beasts or people."

She kept her voice soft, but tried to speak quickly, like he did. She didn't quite succeed. "Brandon - the bigger man - looks like some of the people already here. Would the gods hate him, if they hated the people he looked like?"

The Sivefi cocked his head, ears flopping noisily with the motion. "Idon'tknowforsure," he answered nervously. "Mostgods wouldknow thedifference. Some mightnotcare." He let out a creeling noise, and the sound of his gait changed to remind her of a slinking stride. "Maybe we shouldavoid thegods. But I can'tsee them aswell."

"Nor can I," she said, a faint smile meant to reassure him only eliciting another creel. She banished the expression quickly. "Do not worry, Ju'jou. The gods will know that we do not mean harm to them or their lands, or to the Sivefi people."

"Some mightnotcare," he repeated gloomily, tail dragging loudly on the dry ground.