Gods of Earth Read Online Free PDF Page A

through the air, straight over Chance and through the shattered front doors of the barn. Where the Guardian had stood a second before, dark smoke rose from charred floor beams.
    The ashen man twisted, bones audibly grinding and snapping—snapping back into place, Chance realized. He stood and faced Chance.
    “You will come now.”
    “No,” Chance whispered. He rose to his feet, hands knotting into painfully tight fists.
    The rush of visions returned: a door floating in a starry sky; a coffin full of white ropes; a huge dark man holding a long-handled hammer in one hand. And dimly through these images Chance saw the hideous white figure flail its limbs forward, moving toward him in contortions like a dying spider.
    “No!” Chance shouted, terrified and furious. He stepped forward uncertainly. The room grew distant, the sounds receding. He gasped at the air, fighting the urge to vomit, focusing his mind on what was here, in this time and place. The unman was just a pace away now. With a titanic effort, Chance drew one arm back.
    “You will come now,” the ashen man hissed again, raising the black rotting hand.
    Chance leapt. He threw all his weight into a twisting wild punch, swinging down into the contorted white face. He saw in an instant the red eyes open with shocked surprise as his fist came down and struck, hard, across one sunken cheek.
    The ashen man fell back. He thudded down onto the floor.
    “You dare!” he shrieked. “You dare!” The hand with the eye in its palm rose up, and something gripped Chance’s legs, binding him as if he were buried up to his waist in stone.
    Silver flashed. Two bright streaks. Sarah ran forward, swords swinging. Instantly, without any sign of motion, the ashen man was standing, his back to Chance, outstretched dead arm facing Sarah.
    And something else moved out from between the wine barrels—Paul, running forward, a club in his hand.
    “Sarah!” Chance shouted. “Sarah, no!”
    Sarah stopped in the middle of a leap. Time congealed around her. She floated, frozen, her feet off the ground. The swords suspended two silver arcs of light in the air.
    Like an owl’s, the head of the ashen man turned completely around and glared at Chance. A sickening smile buckled the pallid face.
    “Yours,” it whispered. Almost a question. The air shimmered, and Sarah disappeared.
    “No!” Chance screamed. “Stop it, stop it, stop!” He managed to drag his feet forward two steps. He held his clenched fists out in fury.
    Paul had fallen back in shock, but now he rushed forward again, the heavy club held high over his head.
    “And kin,” the ashen man said. Paul disappeared.
    “Stop,” Chance whispered.
    “Give yourself to me,” the ashen man said. “Do not resist me. Release your mind. Then they can go free, brother.”
    The Guardian stepped into the barn, smacking the splintered fragments of the door aside loudly. In the next instant, he stood over the ashen man, followed by a clap of imploding air in the wake of the speed of his motion. The ashen man fell backwards on the floor. The Guardian smacked aside the black rotting arm that rose like a snake, then swung a slate-colored fist so fast that a breeze swept the room and there was a sound like a hornet’s buzz. But the fist crashed through floor boards and shattered a stout floor beam. The pale, robed figure was gone.
    A wave of dizziness struck Chance. The barn dimmed as the lamps flickered, choking on their own black smoke. He fell backwards, hearing but not feeling his body crash onto the wood floor. As if he could see through the ceiling of the barn, bright and myriad stars turned above him. He floated among them, in a tunnel of stars.
    From far, far away, Sarah’s voice called faintly, “Chance! Chance!”
    Then all faded into silence and darkness.

PART I
    DISTHEA

CHAPTER
    4
    C hance woke with a start. Over him, blue sky and clouds turned slowly around. Close to his head, water lapped and lapped methodically.
    He sat