Free Lucian: Dark God's Homecoming by Van Allen Plexico Page B

We have nothing but time.”
    “Actually, I do not,” I said. “In fact, you are keeping me from important business—“
    “You are being inconvenienced, then?” he boomed. “How unfortunate.” His glare beat at me like a physical blow, and I settled back to the ground once more. “But I’m afraid you are not the only one being inconvenienced, these days. I have been extremely inconvenienced recently, in fact.” His eyes narrowed, though he continued to glare at me. “Murder can do that. Mass murder, especially.”
    “It was not me,” I said, growing tired of being seen as public enemy number one. “I was in exile. I was on the human worlds.” I sighed tiredly, shaking my head. “What is so hard for everyone to grasp about that?”
    A small smile played about that thin-lipped mouth. He nodded.
    “I anticipated you would have a sparkling alibi,” he said with a chuckle. “And it might even be true—though it would go against your nature.”
    “What do you know of my nature?” I demanded, suddenly fed up with all the prejudice I felt from my fellow gods. Few of them were squeaky clean—how dare they judge me so? “You don’t know me! I don’t even know you.”
    “I know you better than you might think,” he said.
    I gritted my teeth, angry that this big oaf already had gotten the better of me.
    “What do you know, then?”
    He crossed his thick arms and regarded me, his head tilted slightly to one side. I was reminded of a dog I had owned once, on Mysentia, that had looked at me that way now and then—usually when it felt that dinner was late, or that I had not fed it enough. I tried to shove that image out of my head.
    “I know this,” he said. “I know that the Power can be stored up. That objects can be—what was the word he used?—imbued with quantities of it.” Turmborne’s eyes narrowed as he peered at me. “I also know that you can do this.”
    I shrugged. “And?”
    “And it strikes me that this would be useful… if the Fountain were to stop flowing.” He smiled a thin smile. “In fact, if that happened, anybody storing up a reserve of the Power would enjoy a big advantage over all the others.” He leaned closer towards me, jabbing a meaty finger into my chest. “And it did.”
    I will admit I had not yet considered this angle. But it begged another question, one I needed answered.
    “The gods who were killed—“
    “Murdered!” he growled.
    “Murdered, fine. Were they all in the City when they died?”
    He looked upon me with utter contempt.
    “As if you don’t know this.”
    “Humor me.”
    He nodded, his face registering disgust.
    “Some were in the City. Many were not. Many were in their private domains, and some were among the humans.”
    Not what I had wanted to hear. This made his case stronger, with regard to the stored energies, though I was not certain he realized it yet. The killer had to have been able to travel among the planes without the Fountain to provide power. This also meant the perpetrator must have retained his or her abilities even as the victims had been rendered powerless. I winced. It must have been a slaughter.
    This suggested another possibility, however. “Has anyone considered yet that it might not have been one of us?” I asked. “That it might have been someone not dependent upon the Fountain at all? Are we so mutually suspicious—or at least so suspicious of me—that such a possibility never even crossed anyone’s mind?”
    He stared at me for a moment, then leaned back, stroking his beard.
    “Excellent,” he laughed. “I knew the master of lies wouldn’t let me down.” Then, after a few seconds, “Fine. I will humor you. I suppose you have someone in mind?”
    “As a matter of fact, I do,” I growled, “though hardly anyone has been willing to listen to me about it.”
    I described the Dark Man with whom I’d had a running battle on the Road to the City, as well as the two we had seen in the bog near Malachek’s