Free Two (The Godslayer Cycle Book 2) by Ron Glick Page A

mocked Dariel.  “You seem almost ready to convert to principles of honor there.”
    Lendus let loose with another loud bellow of laughter, and even a few others could be heard snickering at the last. 
    “Do we know for certain that young Nathaniel was the godslayer?”  interrupted Karmel.  Even though the God and Goddess of Magic and Chance was in his masculine form, still he had a certain femininity that left little doubt to his preferred form.
    “ It will have to be ascertained, of course,” said Malik, trying to regain some semblance of control.  “But I do not believe there can be any doubt.  Nathaniel was sure to have the first of the swords by now.  But I will go to see--”
    “ No, I think it best if you not be the one to make such an inquiry, Malik,” interrupted Dariel.
    Malik failed to disguise the shock at Dariel's obstruction.  “And why not?”
    Dariel smiled beauteously.  “Because it is more proper for the God and Goddess of Truth to inquire into the passing of one of her own sphere, don't you think?  And besides, it will present the perfect opportunity to determine how close Imery's little puppet is to our avatar.”
    Malik resisted the urge to scowl at the manipulative move of his compatriot, but had to concede when put in such a manner.  This would qualify as her domain more than his.  She had a claim to propriety.  At least he could take some solace in the idea that at least it had been Dariel and not one of the others who would be going to inquire of Nathaniel.  After all, if one of the others learned of the tenth sword at this juncture, it would cause no end of grief.
     
    *     *     *
     
    Ankor lay across the throne haphazardly, twiddling a dagger between his fingers.  It really was a lovely place, he thought absent-mindedly.  A shame truly that it would soon pass the way of its mistress.
    Kelvor reached across and swatted the dagger from his hand.  “Would you pay attention?”
    “ I am,” protested the God of Mischief.  “I was paying quite a lot of attention to my little knife before you threw it away, thank you.”  With a whim, the dagger once again appeared in Ankor's hand, and was soon spinning between his fingers yet again.
    “ To me, you miscreant.  To me!”
    “ Oh, well.  Now that I can't help.  See, I never was one for being yelled at all the time.  I tend to pay far less attention to people like that.”
    “ Please, Kelvor,” urged Galentine from behind the larger God's form.  “We should be grateful he is cooperating, at all.  Drive him away, and what will that accomplish?”
    “ Perhaps the truth of his involvement in the death of our sister!” shouted the God of Justice.
    “ Hey now,” yelped Ankor, sitting upright while the dagger vanished.  “What's all this about the death of a sister?”
    “ That is what I have been trying to discuss with you, you twit,” growled Kelvor.  “Imery is dead.”
    Ankor laughed.  “Oh, that's rich.  Gods don't die, you knuckler.”  Ankor reached out and rapped on the metal helm of his fellow God.  “Air not getting in there?  I think you've become confused with mortals .  They die, not Gods.  Ask Elevan if you don't believe me.”
    Kelvor's entire body tensed, but Galentine stepped forward to prevent his eruption.  “Please, Kelvor.  Let me handle this.”
    The God of Honor leaned low to speak softly at their lesser companion.  “Please, Ankor.  This is difficult enough without your antics.”
    “ Honor is hard, that's true,” responded Ankor.  “But it's good of you to admit to the problem.  First step in the cure.  If you'll let me, I can show you much easier ways to work things so you're not always so uptight.”
    Galentine closed his eyes and took a steadying breath.  “Imery is gone.  Her being simply ceased to exist sometime last evening.  None of us were quite sure what it was when it happened, because we have never felt a God die before.  As you say, none of