Petty Pewter Gods Read Online Free PDF Page A

have gotten by outside   —except that they tended to be a little ethereal in a strong light.
    Did somebody feed me magic mushrooms while I was asleep?
    I said, “That’s a better look for you.” The woman was too close. I watched her hair. Fleas and lice are bad enough.
    She flashed an inviting smile, licked her lips with a tongue that split at the end. She told me, “I appreciate your thoughts. They’re flattering. But you don’t want to get too close to me.” She gestured at the blonde, who stared at me like she wanted me for dinner. In a less stressful moment I would have leaped onto her plate. I failed to correct the snake woman’s misconception about her effect on me.
    “You got any chairs around here?” I had a concussion for sure. I was keeping my balance about as good as a ratman on weed.
    “I’m sorry. We jumped into this rather precipitously.”
    I lowered myself back down to the floor so I would not have so far to fall when the time came. “Tell me something useful. Who are you? What are you? What do you want? Give me some of the good stuff before I fade away again here.” My head really hurt.
    “We are the last of the Godoroth. Through no wish of ours, nor any fault, we have become entangled in a struggle with the Shayir.”
    “The sun of knowledge shines on me,” I muttered. “I’m afraid not.” I didn’t have a clue.
    “Only one group can survive. This place is the cellar of our last mortal follower. We will shelter here till the contest is decided. In his prayers our follower suggested we enlist your aid. By temperament you are well suited.”
    “Leave my tailor out of this.”
    She scowled. She didn’t get it. “We were considering bringing in a nonbeliever already. The Shayir must have gotten wind of you and so set a trap for you.”
    “Must be the bump on the head. I’m not understanding any of this.” I asked again. “Who are you? What are you?”
    The blonde giggled. That rogue Garrett. He says the cleverest things. However, the boss guy didn’t find me amusing. Lightning crackled on his brow. Literally. He had grown a tad again, too. Should have clued me right then. His type don’t have any patience.
    “You’ve never heard of the Godoroth?”
    “’Fraid not. None of those other names, either.”
    “Ignorance was one point that recommended you.” She didn’t sound like she believed in ignorance, though.
    Thunders pranced around the big guy’s melon. The brunette flashed him a look that might have been disgust. Then she told me, “I’m Magodor. Collectively, we are the Godoroth. We were the patron gods of the Hahr, one of the first tribes to settle this region. They were primitive by your standards. They planted crops and herded cattle but were not very good at it. They lived as much by raiding as by agriculture. Almost all physical trace of them has vanished. Their blood still runs strong in the rulers of this city, but their culture is extinct. And their gods are on the verge of extinction.”
    That bad at agriculture — and the interest in institutionalized thievery sounded like a cultural aspect that had persisted amongst our rulers.
    “The worship of the Shayir was brought into this region by the Ox-Riders of Grim during the Gritny Conquest. The Gritny were much like the Hahr in the ways they lived. They did not last long. They were just the first wave in an age of great migrations. Every decade saw its raiders or conquerors. Each wave left its seed and a few settlers and their ideas. Of the Ox-Riders no physical trace remains. But their gods, the Shayir, are persistent and resilient. And now, brought low by time, we and the Shayir must fight for a place on the Street of the Gods.”
    Street of the Gods. That was the insiders’ name for the avenue that runs the length of what cynical and undereducated types refer to as the Dream Quarter, that part of the South Side where TunFaire’s thousand and one gods all have their main temples. Another legacy of the