Read Online Gorel and the Pot Bellied God by Lavie Tidhar - Free Book Online

would have called in, in her school. ‘An origin myth,’ he said.
    The girl shook her head, but not in argument. She looked tired, defeated. Gorel said, ‘Wait, you were at the temple?’
    ‘I served She Who is Mother to Us All,’ she said, the words like a long-ago remembered ritual. ‘In the place where the mirror reflects the sun and the rain and the changing skies… All of us who are of the right age, and sex, and purity, and who come from the first line. I should never have left. It is why the Mothers value me, you see. They seek to improve on the god’s own children. To breed a new race, that will be more like, even better than, the gods themselves…’
    But Gorel had no time for contemplation of whatever arcane experiments were being conducted in this house. Only one word caught his attention. He said, ‘You know where the mirror is?’
    ‘Of course. Inside the temple, in the garden of She Who is –’
    ‘Yes, fine,’ Gorel said. He went to the window and put his hands against it. The girl watched him. ‘It can’t be forced,’ she said. ‘There is no escape.’
    ‘Do you have any clothes?’
    ‘No.’
    Gorel shrugged. Then he shoved his hand deep into the crotch of his pants. The girl shied away, and he grinned. When his hand returned it held a small, carefully-wrapped packet. ‘Go to the corner and cover your head,’ he said. He unwrapped the packet. It held a square of a soft, white substance. He tore a chunk of it off, carefully, wrapped the rest and put it back. The girl watched him unmoving. ‘Go!’ he said. She scuttled away from him to the corner.
    It was like a paste, and he stuck it against the hard, opaque material of the window and smoothed it over the surface, checking it the way he had been taught.
    ‘It is protected by powerful sorcery,’ the girl said, her voice muffled. He looked up. So she’d done what he’d said. Good. He didn’t know why he told her, but he said, ‘I was adopted, in the Lower Kidron.’
    ‘I don’t know where that is.’
    ‘It’s a long way from here. And a long way yet from my home. From –’ This was going to be crude. There was a tiny button on Sir Drake’s shirt, a metal disc, and he plucked it out and stuck it in the centre of the white paste on the window. ‘Where I am from. My name is Gorel. Gorel of Goliris. With the help of the mirror I might find a way to return to my kingdom.’
    ‘The mirror?’ she looked up, and there was a frightened look in her eyes. ‘But –’
    ‘Get back!’ he said, motioning urgently with his hand. She obeyed him. He plucked two metallic strands from Sir Drake’s shirt and wove them together. ‘But I learned much in the Lower Kidron. My adoptive father was a – you could say he was a smith. He taught me how to make this paste, which – there, it’s ready.’ He stuck the wires into centre of the disc, the two ends almost touching. When he released them they began to spin, the ends coming closer and closer to each other –
    He turned and ran to the corner, shielding the girl with his body –
    The explosion tore out the window and most of the wall. A rain of green fragments fell down to the garden below. Someone screamed. He heard doors opening and closing with a bang. Running steps. He straightened and lifted the girl in his arms. For a moment, for just a moment, she opened her eyes and looked at him and there was complete trust in her expression: she looked like a baby being held. Gorel shook his head and turned and faced the emptiness where the wall had been. As he took a step forward a dark, bird-shape swept past in the air and came to land on the edge. Kettle grinned at him. Gorel threw the girl. She had no time to scream before Kettle caught her. He sprang from the edge into the air, his wings opening, the girl held in his arms. For a moment he looked back, grinned again, and then, holding the girl with only one arm, tossed something towards Gorel. It arced through the air. It wasn’t going to