The enormous tree's branches and foliage blocked the blue dusk light. They passed beneath its canopy. Off the path, hundreds of periwinkle vines carpeted the forest floor, twisting between the oak's massive roots.
“ Shall we stop here for the night?” Rayna asked.
Marielana patted her mount's neck. “Yes, some rest will do Celiope and myself good.” Channon offered his hand and Marielana gracefully slid off the horse.
“Thank you.”
Channon swung his pack onto the ground. “Do you remember the last time we were here?”
Rayna picked her way across the periwinkle, searching for a spot where the tree roots would not dig into her back as she slept. “Bayne took us the the boulder field to climb.” She smiled at the memory. “We stopped here on the way back.”
Channon pointed to where Marielana watered Celiope at a nearby stream. “Do you think she'll be comfortable sleeping in the open like this?” he whispered.
“I may not have Fenearen senses, but I hear well enough,” Marielana called.
Channon blushed. “I didn't mean—”
Marielana raised her hand. “I take no offense, Channon. My quarters in Sinthahelm are quite simple. I have slept on a thin pallet over marble floors for many years now. The life of the priestess must be austere, in order to remove any worldly distractions.”
“That must be difficult,” Rayna said. She unfurled her bed roll next to Channon's.
Marielana looked lost in thought beneath her translucent veil. “It was, at first. I grew up completely unaware of my heritage and destiny, as all women of my line do. And some distractions were harder to give up than others.”
“You didn't know you were next in line to be priestess?” Channon's hands brushed against Rayna's as he pulled back his blanket, setting her stomach fluttering.
“No. In order to protect the bloodline, the identities of its scions are kept secret—even from ourselves—until the current priestess dies, and her heir takes on the gift.”
“So you have heirs then?” Rayna could not restrain her curiosity.
Marielana merely smiled and repeated herself. “The identities of its scions are kept secret.”
“You grew up thinking you would have a normal life then?” Rayna did not mean to pry, but could not help herself. “Did you have a family?”
“In a sense. I was raised by the Verges ev Aqui, like all orphans of Alvorn. I was told that my parents died of a sickness. I believed that until the last priestess, Eraline, died, and my visions began. ” If Marielana was bothered by their questioning, she did not show it.
“And Eraline was your...?” Channon asked.
“My mother.”
“But is that not cruel? To take a child away from her mother and raise her to believe she is an orphan?”
“Yes. It is cruel, but necessary. The happiness of one woman—or one child—does not outweigh the needs of a country. Without our traditions, my line may have been lost to history as yours was, Rayna.”
“Oh.” Rayna treasured her precious few memories of her mother. Before she'd had the chance to meet him as a Seraph, not having any of her father had been one of her greatest regrets. The idea of being raised an orphan, only to learn your mother was alive the entire time, was difficult to fathom.
Channon took Rayna's hand. “You should get some sleep. We have a long day of travel ahead of us.”
Marielana echoed Channon's sentiments as she set up her own bed on the three's other side. The gargantuan trunk hid the Priestess from view, giving the illusion that Rayna and Channon were alone.
Soon, Rayna lay in his arm's. They stared up at the criss-crossing branches and leaves.
“I'm glad you're here,” Rayna whispered.
He kissed her forehead. “Rest now, my love.”
Rayna stood alone in a dark forest. It wasn't spring here. In her dreamscape, autumn had taken hold.
“We cannot show you Terayan's plans,” Lumae said. “But glimpse through the veil, and you shall see what will become of your world should he succeed.”
Dead leaves crunched under Rayna's feet as she walked through the skeletal trees. Movement caught her eye overhead.
An eagle-sized bird flew between the dark branches.
In the dusky purple light, Rayna couldn't make out many details—only black wings and a long, forked tail.
It gave a terrible screech and fixed her with a bright golden stare.
Rayna exhaled. She'd seen this creature before, at the Mouth of Hell.
With another ear-rending cry, it dove at her.
Rayna jumped out of the way, and the world melted around her. She was tossed inside a churning thundercloud.
Terrible faces and creatures flashed around her, too quickly for her to comprehend. All she knew, was that none of them were human. They weren't animals, either. At least, not any animals she knew.
Laughter boomed around her. She closed her eyes and pressed her hands over her ears, trying to block it out.
Screams and the stench of rotting flesh crammed into her awareness.
She opened her eyes. She flew above a burning city.
Halmstead was on fire, and the streets ran red with blood.
But as Rayna flew higher, the terror spread. Osterna burned and bled and died.
She fell.
Rushing air stole the scream from her lungs as she plummeted toward the inferno below.
Someone caught her before she hit the ground.
She could not see their face, only their pupil-less, molten gold eyes.
“Rayna Myana. My, oh my, how far you've come.”
Rayna awoke, panting. Wispy morning mist drifted over her.
She sat up and wrapped her arms over her knees. Her heart raced. She held her right wrist in her opposite hand, trying to calm her pulse as Kellan had taught her.
Slowly, it worked. Her breathing slowed as she focused on her surroundings. The stars were still out. The spring constellations shone brightly above, including Alvo's Lament.
If she used her imagination, the ten stars resembled a man on his knees, with arms outstretched. Supposedly, it depicted Alvo's sorrow over his separation from his love, Lumae, for the one hundred years they spent on Osterna.
Rayna had always scoffed at the story. After all what was a hundred years to an immortal?
But now she had changed.
Rayna turned her gaze to where Channon slept beside her.
He lay on his side, his arm out-stretched where it had held Rayna.
She stared at his profile, every detail of his face more familiar than her own. There was his slightly crooked nose, the high planes of his cheeks, and honey blond bristles dyed lighter by the sun.
His wavy hair curled around his ear.
She ran a finger along a ringlet, careful not to brush his skin and wake him. Despite the slight frown on his full lips, he looked peaceful. She did not want to take that from him.
Rayna breathed in his leather-and-pine scent—the smell of home and peace.
As he slept, the memory of his strong yet hesitant lips took over her senses. Channon had kissed her multiple times now.
Part of her felt foolish for obsessing over such a thing, like some damsel in the tales from the Outers Thera had sometimes told.
But as she sat in the glen, a mild spring breeze rustling her untamed red hair, she realized she did not just feel foolish.
Love was not a strong enough word for the tide of affection, concern, attraction, and fear that rose up inside her as she considered the way she felt about Channon. The shrieking pain that had torn her apart when she had thought he was gone forever was more powerful, more horrifying than any she'd felt since. And she had experienced no shortage of pain in her life.
Channon had been her anchor since they were pups. He had been her sunshine on days of gloom, her companion, her hunting partner, and her best friend. Nothing in Osterna, or any plane, could possibly compare to her feelings for him.
Except perhaps a love so
strong that missing one hundred years of an eternity was unbearable.
As the sun began to warm the sky, sending the stars away for another day's time, Channon's eyes fluttered open.
“Were you watching me sleep?” he asked through a crooked smile.
Rayna flushed. “We should wake the Priestess.”
It was past midday on their second day of travel when they finally arrived in Kerigan.
Crossing the border had been easy. Not only was fording a river simple when you had the most powerful user of Amne Vena by your side, but considering that the sentries protecting the Soulousian border were all Alvornian, it was no trouble to convince them to let their priestess pass.
As they approached the town square, Rayna noted homes similar to those she had seen in the Outers and in Maenor. Small huts of mud brick and thatch lined the dirt roadway, with acres of farmland stretching out behind each one.
At this time of year, not much was growing, but a few early sprouts dotted the landscape. Men, women, and children went about their washing and weeding as the outsiders walked by, but Rayna glimpsed curious stares from beneath wide-brimmed hats and bonnets.
She could not remember if she had ever met a Soulousian before, outside of dreams. They looked quite different from Fenearens, with their short stature, dark skin, and tightly curled hair. Rayna thought that she, Channon, and the priestess must have looked strange to the Soulousians.
“So is there someone we should introduce ourselves to? Some kind General or Alpha or..?” Channon asked, shielding his eyes as he looked up at Marielana atop Celiope.
“That would be the Magistrate. Or the Magistrate of this town any way. We are on route to his abode.”
They soon arrived at the door of a hut marginally more impressive than the others around it.
After securing her horse to a nearby fence post, Marielana nodded toward the door. “Channon and I will stay back while you make the introductions.”
Although unsure why Marielana wanted her to play ambassador, Rayna obediently approached and knocked.
A stout man opened it almost instantly.
“Um, Magistrate?” Rayna asked. She hoped that was the appropriate way to address him. Living in Maenor, no matter how briefly, had shown her how drastically different the cultures of the peninsular nations could be.
“No, sorry, Magistrate's husband. I can get him for you though!” The door slammed in their faces as the man hurried back into the hut.
Before Rayna could say anything to Marielana or Channon, he re-appeared with a taller and leaner man.
“I'm Magistrate Belkus,” said the second Soulousian. “It is a pleasure to receive emissaries from our allied nations, no matter how unexpected. Please, come in.” He stepped to the side, allowing Rayna, Channon, and Marielana to cross the threshold.
Rayna felt at once at home in the warm dwelling. Normally, having four solid walls around her felt suffocating. But with the natural dirt floors and minimal furnishings, the hut reminded her of a Fenearen den.
Belkus and his husband directed them to a pair of cozy, lop-sided chairs near the unlit hearth.
“Now to what do I owe the pleasure of entertaining the Priestess of Alvorn and her Fenearen escorts?”
Rayna started. “How do you know who she is? Or that we're Fenearen?”
Belkus and his husband shared a look. “We have had the pleasure of seeing the Priestess a few times before. And as far as you two go, the braided hair wrap, leather clothing, and height rather gives it away Miss...?
“Rayna. Rayna Myana.”
The Magistrate's husband brought his hand to his heart. “By Solen, Rayna Myana? Bayne and Silver's niece that traveled to the Mouth of Hell, after agreeing to wed Rhael? I don't know which of those is harder to believe!”
Channon stayed silent, evidently deciding not to divulge he was the soul Rayna had pulled from Hell.
“The very same,” Marielana spoke in a measured tone.
“Well Edmund! Two celebrities at once, can you believe our luck?” Belkus said with a smile.
“Right, thanks, I guess.” Rayna stared at her thumbs. “And, this is my friend, Channon.”
“Pleasure. So what can we do for you?” Belkus asked.
“Thank you, Magistrate. We are on a rather time-sensitive quest, and it is of the utmost importance that you practice complete discretion, Would you do that for me, my lords?” Marielana's voice was quiet, yet powerful, from beneath her veil.
The two men nodded solemnly.
“Very well. We are searching for someone very important. We know her name, and that she resides in this village. We must rely on you to provide the rest.”
“And when you find this very important person, what do you intend to do with them?” Rayna could not help but notice that Belkus' voice had lost some of its congeniality.
“Protect her, at all costs.”
“And in doing so, you will remove her from her home?” Belkus' gaze continued to harden.
“Not by force. Rayna and I will simply explain our situation. It is up to her what action she takes after that.”
Edmund placed his hand on Belkus' shoulder. “What is the name?”
Rayna gave the name of the girl Camila had shown her. “Ayalah Dell.”
Edmund gasped, but Belkus shushed him. “Ayalah Dell?” Belkus repeated. “Very well, but I hope you are prepared for what you find.”
Rayna, Channon, and Marielana walked down the road toward the farm where Ayalah Dell was said to reside.
Following Belkus and Edmund's initial reactions to Ayalah's name, they had declined to elaborate further on why they had reacted so. All Belkus said was, “She's different, that's for sure.”
As they approached the house, Rayna turned to Marielana. “So, what is the plan?”
“Plan?”
“Sorry, I mean, what is our strategy for talking to Ayalah, and to her family?”
“Why ever would we need a strategy, Rayna?”
As they walked up to the door, Channon shrugged.
“Okay,” said Rayna, “I suppose we can tell the truth then?”
Marielana smiled serenely as Rayna rapped on the door.
A boy a few years younger than herself answered. He jumped back. Apparently he was not used to opening the door for two Fenearens and an Alvornian. “Mother, Father, you had better come.”
The boy's parents were there in an instant.
His mother, a curvy woman wearing a patterned hair scarf, pulled the boy behind her.
Rayna shrunk down a bit and cast her eyes to the side.
Channon crossed his arms.
If she were intimidating, he was terrifying.
Marielana seemed completely unaware of the awkwardness of the situation, though. “Hello Jean, Pasco, how lovely to meet you both. You have quite a handsome son, Rynal, correct?”
“How do you know that?” The man, Pasco, wrapped his muscular arms around his family.
Before Marielana could say anything else to terrify the Soulousians, Rayna broke in. “Hello, please excuse the intrusion. My name is Rayna Myana of Fenear, and this is Priestess Marielana of Alvorn. Magistrate Belkus told us your names and where to find you.”
“Priestess?” Rynal interrupted. “The witch who rules Alvorn?”
“Precisely.” Marielana smiled. “May we come in?”
“Er—what she means is that she's not a witch, but this might be easier to explain if you were sitting down,” Rayna said.
Evidently deciding they were in no position to deny the witch lady and her wolfkind friends an invitation, the family hurried them indoors.
Once they were all settled in the quaint farm house, Rayna continued. “I know this is rude and out of the ordinary, but is it possible that we could speak to your daughter?”
“We don't have a daughter.” Jean's thick eyebrows knit together.
“But the Magistrate said we could find Ayalah Dell here with you,” said Rayna.
“Oh, well yes.” Pasco
cleared his throat. “But she's not our daughter.”
“Thank the gods I'm not related to that loon,” Rynal said under his breath.
“Hush, Rynal,” Pasco whispered.
“What makes you say that Ayalah Dell is a loon?” There was no hint of judgment in Marielana's tone, only curiosity.
“You will have to forgive Rynal, he does not always think through what he says.” Jean patted her son's arm.
“That may be, but I sense that you, and your husband, also believe Ayalah to be insane.”
Pasco raised his voice defensively. “Everyone knows Ayalah's like her mother. That's why no one else would take her in after her parents died. They knew it was only a matter of time before she started spewing insane thoughts and getting into people's heads.”
“Pasco, be quiet!” Jean snapped. “Look, I don't care who you are, you have no right to come into our home and start questioning how we care for our ward!”.
Channon stood. “We're wasting our time. We can smell Ayalah out. We don't need these people.”
“How dare you!” Jean said.
“Wait.” Rayna stood beside Channon.
His muscles were tensed, his nostrils flared. It was as if he were preparing for a fight. “Please, we did not mean to insult you.”
“Deepest apologies if we have offended.” Marielana seemed utterly unaffected by the venomous mood as she gazed around the room.
“I think it is safe to say we have offended, but we are sorry.” Rayna gripped Channon's arm, trying to calm him. “Please, let us explain and we will be out of your way.” Rayna was not sure what she could explain, but figured she had to try.
“I know this might be hard to believe, but the reason we are looking for Ayalah is that we think she is like us.”
“Fenearen? Alvornian? Ayalah's different but she's not that different,” Pasco said, reaching for a forgotten cup of tea.
“No, not like us in that way. Ayalah is a seer.”
“A... seer?” Jean stood up and and looked out the window. “Forgive me, but does that not mean someone who can see the future? We are Soulousian, we can all read the future in the color of leaves, or the chill of the air, allowing us to plant accordingly. It was Camila's gift to us. You know this.”
Twice Blessed Page 39
