On the subject of getting back, Van asked, “Will the Cup cure those infected with the demon illness?”
“All healing is Self healing through our connection to the divine source. By accepting that the Creator has already provided for healing even before the illness has taken hold, you can either eliminate the sickness before it manifests or heal the part of the Self that incurred the sickness. Healing the physical illness in the body and healing the inner darkness of the soul are both one and the same. Reach toward the soul, and the body will be healed.”
Van had heard something similar to that last phrase before, from Jacynthia.
“Healing inner darkness?” Van thought of her damaged soul. Then of the last time she saw Paley, crazed and demonic, and hoped her friend was still alive. “So, I can use the power of the Cup to heal those who have turned into a demon?”
Thalassa sort of half-nodded, causing Van’s stomach to churn with dread that maybe this was not so.
“Anyone who drinks from the Cup will be connected to the divine source, and their physical body can, therefore, be healed of the demon illness. However, if a person is possessed by a demon and that demon is expelled from their body, the soul remains damaged, the essence of its evil lingers, a never-ending compulsion tempting the soul back to darkness. A person must heal their soul using their own connection to the divine source. Dancing with darkness of any kind…leaves a mark on the soul.”
Van gulped. She had personal experience with this dance.
She had glimpsed the mark in Solana, a dark thread wrapped so tightly there was no redemption for the Balish princess. When Van had incorrectly used the Coin to kill Solana, she had given rise to the dark part of her Self. Van felt the darkness inside, always struggling to rise, to take her power and consume her soul like it had done to Solana. Van wanted to heal this darkness inside her Self but feared facing it.
But that was neither here nor there. Van had passed the Elemental’s test by regaining her ability to feel so she could trust in her power to overcome this darkness. Van wondered why the Elemental didn’t leave now that her duty of protecting the Cup had ended. Why she didn’t float away like Lady Loka did after Van had retrieved the Coin of Creation.
A heavy pause large enough to fill the cavern hung in the balance.
Finally, Thalassa spoke. “I am not satisfied that you have learned my lesson.”
“What? Why? I got the Cup.” Van raised the item as if Thalassa needed reassurance that Van had indeed passed her test and learned her lesson.
“The Coin in itself was also a test. To see if you would choose to use it rather than trust in your own abilities to complete the Walk of Faith.”
“That’s why you dropped me into the abyss?” Van raised her brow.
Thalassa nodded. “You needed to use your own abilities without the Coin to get out of the abyss and retrieve the Cup, and you did. You trusted in your connection to the Creator.” She paused and then said, “However, your questions demonstrate to me that you still do not understand.”
Thalassa’s reasoning hit a cord within Van. It reconfirmed the nagging truth that she was unable to handle her power as Anchoress because of her damaged soul. Which meant Uxa was right, Van wasn’t ready to retrieve the Cup.
“You have successfully passed my first test. But you will not leave the lagoon until you have learned the entire lesson.”
Thalassa’s appearance changed again. Her seashell dress had turned into thousands of transparent, circular beads that collectively gave the stunning impression she shimmered like a waterfall. Her hair had turned completely blue and began to waver again as if it were underwater. Van realized Thalassa had been changing subtly the whole time they had been talking, the combination of the slight changes had accumulated enough to make the differences obvious now.
“Humans can choose their fate.” Thalassa’s eyes had turned a dark, stormy blue. “Every other creature has been placed in a confined and predetermined circumstance. You can co-create your own destiny with the power given to you by fate of your birth. Thus, your responsibility is greater.”
Van cast her eyes downward, and she muttered, “I have to give back the Cup?”
“Not quite.”
Van heard a snort and scraping claws.
The hair on her arms stood on end.
A snarl rolled out from the darkness in a nearby crevasse. A shadow between the rocks stretched forward and took form. Its eyes glowed red.
Van stood paralyzed by fear. No…Thalassa wouldn’t…
Her worst nightmare had become a reality.
Van’s eyes widened in terror as she gaped at the saliva dripping from fanged teeth.
A low growl rumbled deep from the belly of the Quasher.
Chapter 51
“Welcome to your final exam,” Thalassa said.
Van wanted to run, scream, and disappear all at the same time. She wished she had never been born rather than face this moment.
“Y-you set the Quasher free…how?” Van was still within her time limit of the Alignment. It should be bound by the magic of the Elemental—oh, right. Thalassa is an Elemental. She must have the power to release the Quasher at will.
“Your salvation comes down to the decision you make right now.” Thalassa’s voice rang from every angle of the lagoon, yet she was nowhere in sight.
The snarling beast stretched and curled its massive paws. It crouched, growling, and then lurched forward.
Van leaped aside, so fast her ankle collapsed when she landed, sending her sprawling into the sand. The Cup flew from her hand and tumbled away.
The monstrous, wolf-like creature raised its paw and swiped at Van with blade-like claws.
She rolled aside.
The beast’s claws pounded deep into the sand, inches from her head.
It roared in frustration.
Van scrambled to stand and, on shaking legs, dashed to the rocks forming the cliff. She climbed, pulling up her feet as the snarling Quasher nipped at her heels.
Van knew Thalassa didn’t want her to use the Coin, but this was an emergency and—yeah, the Quasher counted as pure evil.
Van tucked herself between two rocks, using it to shield her body from the beast, while frantically searching her pockets for the Coin.
The Quasher’s paws reached between the rocks, barely out of reach of Van. It snapped and clawed in an attempt to achieve its goal in ripping Van to shreds. It red eyes never wavered from her. Not once.
“Darkness is a dominating state, but it is not a balanced state.” Thalassa’s voice filled the lagoon. “The Creator gave the Anchoress a magical bloodline to ensure there would always be enough light present in the worlds to balance the darkness.”
The rocks crumbled around Van as the shadow beast’s paws scratched and tore its way to her.
“If the Quasher kills you, the Anchoress light will be extinguished forever,” Thalassa said. “There will be no one to save your people when demons rise and bring forth Dishora.”
The Coin wasn’t in any of her pockets. Van’s eyes darted across the beach. She saw it lying by the Cup. She must’ve lost it when she tumbled to the ground. Or, perhaps, Thalassa had magically taken it away.
Anger surged in Van. Talk about an unfair fight. She attempted to push down her feelings again. She knew Thalassa’s first lesson involved connecting to her feelings, but she had become skilled at squelching them. The Water Elemental had been right. Van hadn’t learned the first lesson.
Van’s ire kept rising, and she needed to be unemotional so she could focus. The more furious and dark her thoughts became the greater the Quasher’s rage and determination.
She didn’t want to die. Death terrified her. Now it had come knocking on her door in the form of the Quasher. She needed to stay alive to help her people, to stop the spread of the demon illness.
The rocks Van hid between shook from the Quasher’s pounding claws.
She couldn’t dodge and dash or hide among the rocks forever. Van f
elt a barrage of emotions burst inside her, none of them good.
The calm water of the lagoon began to ripple, mimicking the turbulence of Van’s emotions. Her frustration also continued to give strength to the Quasher.
She tried to connect to her ancestral line but couldn’t concentrate with the shadow beast snarling three feet away. Or, perhaps the creature was able to block her connection?
Van knew she couldn’t fight the shadow-wolf on her own, not without her Items of Creation. She had access to magic but had no idea what spell to conjure. If she jumped out from behind the rocks, tried an incantation and failed, it would result in her body being torn to shreds.
Thalassa’s first lesson had taught Van to trust her inner Self. So, what do I do? Leap out and face the Quasher and…what? Die?
She had no tools to fight a beast of that magnitude.
I’m a terrible person. What kind of warrior fears death?
Her anger mixed with distress.
Suddenly a white dot appeared on the rocks a good distance from Van. Her stomach dropped.
Wiglaf! He was as frail and sickly as ever.
“Mrrup. Epp.”
His voice, weak and low, still carried across the lagoon to Van and the Quasher’s ears.
The beast paused and turned its wolf-like head in the direction of Wiglaf, who lay draped across a rock.
“No!” Van screamed, still cowering between the protective rocks.
Van knew the Quasher sensed her weakness toward the bunfy. It stopped snapping and clawing and took a step in the direction of Wiglaf, in a blatant attempt to lure Van out from between the rocks.
As the Quasher lumbered across the beach, it gave Van a few precious seconds to think. She cleared her anger by focusing on feelings of love. She felt her blood vibrate and her eyes turn phosphorescent violet. The Anchoress power emanated through her, connecting her to her ancestral line and she asked them for guidance.
Van squirmed out from between the rocks. Her palms clapped together and then separated. They moved on their own, guided by her spirit ancestors. She turned her palms outward toward the lagoon and chanted the words that filled her mind:
“I am my power. I am divine. I am the Anchoress by design.
Magic, magic from the sea. Together, we are meant to be.
So, water rise from the lagoon. Give me help and bring it soon.”
The lagoon swirled, the water began to flood the beach. The rising tide engulfed the Quasher, but the beast quickly regained its balance.
Water continued to inundate the beach, getting higher and higher.
“No!” Van yelled as the rising tide swept Wiglaf from the rock. His tiny paws flailed in the rushing water as the bunfy struggled to remain afloat. His ears flopped as he strived to keep his head above the rippling waves.
The Quasher used its massive paws as paddles and swam closer to Wiglaf.
“No! Stop!” Van took several steps forward until she came to the edge of the precipice.
The lagoon stopped rising as it reached Van’s feet where she stood on the rock protrusion.
She splashed the water with her hands hoping to get the Quasher’s attention. “Over here!”
The little bunfy struggled, trying to stay afloat. Wiglaf’s eyes widened as the Quasher swam closer.
It reached the bunfy and raised one of its massive paws from the water and swiped.
Van heard a squeaky whimper as the Quasher’s paw crashed down on its target.
Van screeched.
The Quasher turned to Van and belted an ear-piercing roar, disappointed it was too far away to pounce on Van, though its plan to lure her out from the crevasse had worked.
Van watched helplessly as the Quasher began fervently paddling toward her.
She saw a spot of white fluff rise to the surface. Wiglaf drifted, blood pooled around him. His long ears floated like seaweed. He raised his tiny nose barely above the surface. Van could see his little ribs moving up and down. He was alive!
She heard a faint clink in the water by her feet and looked down. The Cup!
It had drifted to Van and tapped against the rocks. She snapped it up before Thalassa could change her mind, although the Water Elemental was still nowhere to be seen.
I can use the Cup to heal Wiglaf! Thank you, thank you, thank you, Thalassa.
The Cup filled with an orange liquid.
“If Wiglaf drinks the from the Cup, he will be saved,” Thalassa’s voice rang through the lagoon. “But you will die.”
The Quasher paddled closer to Van, struggling against Thalassa’s magically made currents designed to work against it.
Van noticed Wiglaf had drifted to the edge of the rocks, close enough for Van to quickly get to him.
“Whoever drinks it will be protected from the shadow beast,” Thalassa said. “The Cup will save one, either you or Wiglaf.”
Van kept a sharp eye on the Quasher.
It continued its relentless paddling through the currents, its red eyes never wavered from Van, even as she plodded across the rocks to reach Wiglaf.
“If you drink the potion, the Quasher will not be able to harm you and your protection from it will last forever. You will be able to move about the Living World anytime, not just during Luxta, or the Alignment as it is called by mortals. But Wiglaf will die.”
Van scooped the unconscious bunfy out of the water, carried him up the cliff away from the water, and gently laid him on a smooth rock. Open wounds gaped through his once white fur that was now stained pink with his blood. His little ribs barely moved up and down. Time was running out.
As the Quasher thrashed its paws in the water, moving closer, thoughts swirled through Van’s mind.
Thalassa made it clear that Van needed to drink the potion to survive her battle with the Quasher. Last year, Van had been ready to give her life to the Quasher to save Brux’s. But, at that time, she didn’t fully understand the value of her existence to the Lodian tribe. Now, everything was different. She was important. She carried the legacy of her people; her life was not hers to give away.
Images of Ferox in the moonlight entered her mind, and she couldn’t stop a feeling of love from flooding her senses.
And Brux—how he consistently put his life on the line to protect her. She believed his caring for her extended past the line of duty. Despite his feelings for Van, she had a right to feel romantic love for someone else.
It was okay for her to love them both, Brux as a friend and Ferox as her boyfriend.
Van felt a pang of pain when she thought about the bad choices she had made and sadness over the people she had cared about and lost.
According to Zurial’s message and Thalassa’s first test, Van had a right to embrace all of her feelings. Which meant she had the right to save someone she loved and still be considered a strong warrior.
Van bent down, and lifted Wiglaf’s head, about to give her bunfy the drink, when Thalassa upped the ante.
“The potion will make you immortal. I created it that way. Drink it, and you will be the Anchoress for eternity. You will become a deity, an Elemental. Able to watch over your people forever.”
The Quasher had gotten so close to the shoreline, water from the strokes of its enormous paws splashed onto the rocks. Thalassa wouldn’t allow her magical currents to hold it off much longer.
Van had to choose. It was either her death or Wiglaf’s.
She closed her eyes and cleared everything from her mind. She turned inward, seeking an answer. Her spirit ancestors remained quiet; their message clear: it was her decision.
Van opened her eyes.
The Quasher’s claws stretched and grasped the rocks at the water line. The stony surface below its paws crumbled from the sheer ferocity of the snarling beast as it clawed its way up the cliff toward Van.
It let out a guttural growl. Its angry red eyes locked onto hers, ready to fulfill its only goal, its reason for existence: killing Van.
Her decision became clear.
; She gently rested Wiglaf’s head back onto the rocks and said goodbye.
Chapter 52
Van placed the Cup on the rock, next to Wiglaf.
She lifted his head and upper body so he could drink the healing liquid on his own; she didn’t have time to watch him sip the entire Cup. She had already said her goodbyes and, though unlikely she would win, she still needed to mentally prep for her fight with the fast approaching Quasher.
Wiglaf’s head flopped back to the ground after Van took her hands away. She bent back to down to lift his head again, but Wiglaf didn’t need to drink the liquid. After the first sip, it flowed from the Cup and went straight into Wiglaf’s mouth on its own. The whole cupful entered his tiny mouth in a few seconds.
Van heard the Quasher’s snarl, so close she felt its hot breath on her neck.
She trembled as she gathered her courage and turned to face the shadow beast and her death.
It raised its paw and swiped at Van.
She ducked and rolled aside, away from Wiglaf.
Its paw slammed the rock inches from her face, blasting it to pieces.
It kept pounding and scratching its claws shaking the rocky side of the cavern, nearly missing Van with each swipe as she dashed and leaped aside.
The force of the Quasher’s smashing paws caused the masks decorating the cavern around the lagoon to fall. They crashed like rain onto the rocks and shattered to pieces.
Van scuttled higher up the rocks, if for nothing else, to get the beast farther away from Wiglaf.
The Quasher snarled even louder and swiped at Van again. His claw tore into her ankle so deep it shredded her boot.
Van screeched in pain.
She wedged herself behind a rock and pulled up her leg. Her ankle throbbed as she frantically tried to stop the gushing blood by pushing her palms against the deep gash. Blood dripped from between her fingers.
Her mind whirled as it tried to come up a way to defeat the Quasher. But she had nothing to fight it with—no Coin, no Cup, no spell, no weapon. She was on her own, vulnerable and frightened.
Plague of Death Page 39
