The Raven Tower

by Ann Leckie

But grow up surrounded by tempers as fierce as yours, wills as strong as yours or stronger, backed with power and authority where yours is not—not yet—and you must either learn to curb that temper or run the risk of breaking disastrously against opponents far stronger than you, far sooner than you can hope to survive it.

gods are, as a rule, more easily able to help those who have already made their own efforts.

Perhaps the length of one’s life was not important—except in the way it is to so many living beings, desperate to avoid death. Perhaps, long or short, it mattered how one spent that time.

The lynx, of course, is the preferred shape of the god the Tel call Stalker.

did you wonder why, in a town so close to such a large forest, nearly all the buildings were built mostly of stone? Possibly not. But I take you for a thoughtful person, so perhaps you did.

“Raven’s Lease,” you demurred. “I was bidden to ask questions that might set my lord Mawat’s anxieties to rest. What the Xulahns want may be one thing. My lord’s misgivings are another.” “Indeed, indeed,” put in Radihaw. “That is very true.” “So, my lords,” you persisted. “With your permission, what are the Xulahns doing here, and did they have anything to do with the disappearance of my lord Mawat’s father?” You, Radihaw, and Hibal started and braced yourselves as a sudden gust blew across the tower roof. The bag tipped and fell out of Radihaw’s hands, and the wind took it, upended it. “Deception can you hear me can you hear me,”

Dupesu made a small bow toward you, where you knelt, weeping, beside Mawat’s lifeless body. “And the friend Eolo. We are live yet. Raven or stone, this god of Vastai is not harm us. But we are go now. And you are not stop us, or try to hurt us.” “We are live yet,” agreed the snake. “Where is this god of Vastai?” And then I spoke aloud, the very stones of the tower crying out to near deafen you all. “I am the Strength and Patience of the Hill! And I am the god of Vastai, who until now has sustained Iraden! And you, little snake, will not be the first god I have killed. No, nor even the second.”

If my surmise is correct, there are many ships, and in the prow of one of them sits part of a stone that fell from the sky more than ten thousand years ago, iron and chunks of peridot. If my surmise is correct, it houses a god. My friend, the Myriad. One of the Ancient Ones. As am I. The Raven said he had spoken the deaths of all the gods who fought for Ard Vusktia, but even with the power of every small god of Iraden, even having taken all the God of the Silent Forest had, he could not make those words true. I still lived, and the Myriad as well. The ancient gods are, I have been told, difficult to kill.