Gates of Eden: Starter Library

by Theophilus Monroe

  "I did not ask him such questions," Julie said, shaking her head. "Such was not my business. I only told him how he might open the void that he might have a chance to stop them."

  "And you really thought by kidnapping a wyrm, he'd be able to stop the bokors from unleashing this voidbringer?" I asked.

  "I did not," Julie said. "But I suspected his intention was that he might bring back the Wyrmriders of legend. They are the only ones who could stand a chance to stop the voidbringer. And, La Sirene, since you stand before me today, it appears I made the right choice in helping your king."

  19

  "UNBELIEVABLE," TAHLIA SAID as we waded through the swamp. Julie told us the rougarou would leave us alone. We only needed to worry about the alligators. But since my body was apparently still radiating infernal magic, Julie was relatively confident they'd leave me alone, too. The power of hellfire has a tendency to ward off even the nastiest corporeal creatures.

  Why not fly out of the swamp the same way we came? My medallion was tapped out. And I wasn't about to try and use infernal power to shift. The good Lord only knows what that would do to me if I used it that way. Just siphoning it and releasing it, which didn't take any actual manipulation on my part, was an excruciating and, I imagined, dangerous thing to do.

  So we were stuck wading through the water. Tahlia had an advantage. She had her tail. But even she didn't like it. Swamp water is nasty. Stagnant. Not at all like the ocean water she was accustomed to.

  Plus, I let her swim ahead while she tried to contact Agwe. She said I wouldn't be able to hear their conversation. It was like a psychic thing. She was communicating with him via thoughts only.

  I could relate on a certain level. That was how I'd connected and spoke to Nammu before. It's not a comfortable thing to do, exactly. Most people, if they're like me, have wandering thoughts. They might think the opposite of what they're saying when speaking to someone. When communicating on a psychic level, there's no distinction between what you say and what you think. It makes it virtually impossible to lie, for instance. If you're talking to someone that way, if you believe it, they'll hear it.

  It was how my baby Merlin and I spoke while he was still a baby. He didn't know words yet. But it's how I knew he was still there, that he was still human despite being born in a form that was not his own. Through his thoughts alone, I could sense what he wanted in a way only a mother could.

  I sighed. I missed that. I missed my baby...

  I had been trying not to think about it, with all that was going on. Sneaking out of Fomoria. Figuring out how to deal with my dragon's essence by... well... letting it loose from time to time. Meeting the Voodoo Queen of New Orleans and her stoner lackey. And speaking to the ghost of a dead caplata.

  I'd hardly had time to think about Merlin. I mean, he was always there lurking in my mind. But I couldn't dwell on it. This was the first moment I had since first returning to Fomoria that I could actually think about how badly I missed him.

  It didn't last long. Tahlia came swimming back toward me, diving through the water like a dolphin.

  I briefly envied her. I wished I had my tail.

  The mud, seeping between my toes, was nothing short of disgusting.

  And the pants that Chad had gotten me were probably ruined. Poor unicorn.

  "Joni!" Tahlia said. "I just got done talking to Agwe."

  "Did you tell him what we found out?" I asked.

  "I did. And he said we need to get back right away and confront the king. He believes that the whole reason he took the wyrm was because a baby was the only one he could handle. And since he'd already met you, when you brought Merlin... that's why he invited you back. And why he didn't want you to leave. He thought you could eventually train with the baby wyrm and become the Wyrmriders of legend."

  I shook my head. "What a moron."

  Tahlia chuckled. "I agree. But it isn't a completely dumb plan now that we see what happened."

  I nodded. "No, it's dumb, all right. But it did bring the other wyrms out. We just need to convince the king that if he truly wants to see me become this La Sirene or whatever, if he thinks I'm going to lead some group known as the Wyrmriders, our best bet is to bring the baby back to Nammu. Wyrms are not irrational beasts. If we want them to fight with us, they have to trust us. And we have to trust them."

  Tahlia nodded. "Good luck convincing the king of that. Agwe has been trying to convince him to grant me citizenship, or refugee status at the very least, for years. Without any good reason other than his stubbornness and prejudice, he's repeatedly refused."

  I shook my head. "How does one become king in Fomoria anyway?"

  "Well, it isn't a hereditary monarchy. And from what I know, succession usually happens by popular acclaim."

  "Like a vote?" I asked.

  "Not exactly," Tahlia said. "It isn't a position anyone seeks. It isn't a firmly defined position at all. The leader isn't so much elected, or coronated, as he or she simply rises to the occasion."

  "So more like how wolves or, apparently, wyrms select an alpha?" I asked.

  "Not a bad analogy, I suppose," Tahlia said. "Though I don't know much about wolves. The same is true of seals, though. And most of my selkie ancestors are seals rather than eels."

  "So it's sort of like the strongest person is acknowledged as the leader, eventually is recognized as a king?" I asked.

  Tahlia shrugged. "You might put it that way. But what does it mean to be the strongest? Strength is defined differently at various times. The strength that is recognized is whatever strength the moment requires."

  "So if the moment changes, then does that mean a different king will emerge?" I asked.

  "You would think," Tahlia said. "But Fomorians like most of us are creatures of habit. So long as they are relatively safe and well-fed, they'd rather endure an inept or an offensive king than shake things up."

  I nodded. "For what it's worth, even when people get a vote, it often ends up that way. You'd think when citizens vote for their leaders, popularity wouldn't be a problem. But invariably, whenever election time comes around, most people feel like they're stuck choosing between the lesser of two evils."

  Tahlia chuckled. "Sounds like the whole system, perhaps, needs to be subjected to a vote."

  I nodded. "Unfortunately, the best leaders and the most electable leaders are not necessarily the same. A lot of folks think the two-party system is to blame. But people keep voting for candidates from one of the two parties. I'm not sure how things will ever change that way."

  "Politics is weird," Tahlia said, shaking her head. "Seems like every system for choosing leaders has flaws."

  "I agree," I said. "I suppose the best system is, as you said before, the one that elevates whoever has the strength needed to meet the challenges of the day. But people look at the world differently. For some, what they see as the biggest threats or challenges are discounted entirely by others. And vice versa."

  "Sometimes the shit has to hit the propeller before people come to see that a common threat is a legitimate one."

  I chuckled at the whole shit hitting the propeller idiom. It made sense sea-dwelling folk wouldn't talk about shit hitting fans. But it was mildly amusing that the idea's force was so strong they had to come up with a metaphor that involved shit hitting something. Despite the differences between the world on land and the world beneath the sea, it appears that shit hitting things is a universally undesirable occurrence.

  We finally reached the last of the marshlands and made our way back to shore. We could've just hopped right in Lake Pontchartrain. It's connected to the ocean, so we could have made our way back to Fomoria from there.

  The only problem was that I didn't have any magic left I could use to return to mermaid form.

  "How are you holding up?" I asked as Tahlia, now having reached dry land, resumed eel form and made her way up my leg.

  "The marshlands helped moisturize my skin for a time. But it's still getting uncomfortable being out of th
e ocean."

  "You could swim back alone," I said. "I'd hate to see you desiccate on my account."

  "Do that, and how would we coordinate things with Agwe to get you back to Fomoria? The beacons will pick you up if your magic isn't masked by something like a wyrm again."

  I nodded. "Well, I appreciate you risking your hide, quite literally, for me."

  "Let's just get back to Marie. If anything, she should be able to get you in touch with some magic you can use. It's going to take Agwe some time to get a plan together to bring you back anyway."

  "Are you talking to him now?" I asked.

  "Intermittently," Tahlia said. "But he's going to try and get another scouting party organized and use them to lure the wyrms closer to New Orleans."

  "Any idea how long that will take?" I asked.

  "Hopefully, a day or less," Tahlia said, draping her eel body across my shoulders. "I don't think I'll last much longer than that."

  20

  "WHAT YOU IDEALLY require is Fomorian magic," Marie said as we walked with her through the French Quarter—my pants dry but still covered in algae from the swamp. I suppose algae and unicorns beat state flags and bare butts.

  "And you know where we can access some of that, here?" I asked.

  Marie smiled wide. "Given your powers, you might already sense it nearby."

  Maire directed us into Jackson Square and faced the St. Louis Cathedral.

  "Fomorian magic in a Catholic church?" I asked.

  Marie laughed. "There is a place beneath the cathedral."

  "Like a crypt?" I asked.

  Marie shook her head. "No, not like that."

  "A basement in New Orleans?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. Suddenly, I felt as dumb as Pee Wee Hermann must've felt when he asked the Alamo tour guide to show him its basement.

  Marie didn't laugh. At least I was spared that part of the humiliation from Pee Wee's Big Adventure. But Marie, like everyone else, knew basements weren't viable in a city that was, in some areas, below sea level. "There is a whole... how shall I put it... city of sorts beneath the cathedral. For centuries it has been utilized as a refuge for Vodouisants. In the antebellum years, in fact, it was a place where some of the priests secretly brought slaves who hoped to learn to read and write."

  I shook my head. "How is that even possible?"

  Marie smiled wide and squeezed my shoulder. "Don't you feel it? It's possible because of Fomorian magic."

  I tilted my head and inhaled. "I do feel it... but it's distant still. Not close enough, I can siphon it."

  "Come this way," Marie said. "Agwe himself helped establish the city. It was some time ago. He had a different host at the time. But it was his doing. Since the city itself was well beneath the water table, a firmament of sorts had to be established."

  "Like the one that guards Fomoria itself?" I asked.

  "Much like it," Marie said. "It was Agwe's guidance, combined with the Fomorian king's generosity, that permitted the establishment of Vilokan."

  "Vilokan?" I asked.

  "That's what we call the subterranean Voodoo city beneath where we stand."

  Tahlia slithered her way around my neck. "Who was the generous king at the time who allowed this to happen?"

  "King Conand," Marie said. "He's king still, is he not?"

  I cocked my head. "But you said this happened before the Civil War..."

  Marie nodded. "I did. That's what antebellum means, child."

  "I know," I said. "Wasn't my question. I mean, I know Fomorians live longer lives than most humans. But... that's a long time for one man to be king of anything."

  Marie chuckled. "The Fomorians must not have term limits."

  "Doesn't sound like the King Conand I know," Tahlia said. "The king is something of a nativist. Wouldn't grant me refugee status in Fomoria. Why would he bother to help a bunch of human slaves find refuge?"

  Marie pressed her lips together. "Perhaps you've misjudged your king's motives."

  "I don't think so," Tahlia said. "Agwe has petitioned him several times to grant me citizenship. Every time he refuses."

  "I cannot speak to that situation," Marie said as she led us down an alley that ran down one side of the cathedral. "But the King Conand I knew despised injustice, even if it occurred beyond his realm."

  "Maybe he's just gotten bitter in his old age," I quipped.

  "I'd sure say," Tahlia added.

  Marie grinned slightly. "He isn't all that much older than I am. And I don't think I'm all that stubborn. Not yet, anyway."

  I scratched my head. "You mean to tell me that you're more than two hundred years old?"

  Marie looked at me and laughed. The incredulous, jaw-dropped expression on my face must've struck her funny bone. "This coming from a girl who is featured in myths and legends going back thousands of years?"

  "I still don't know what to make of that," I said. "I mean, I've been back in time, briefly, a couple of times. But I haven't done anything that's the making of legends."

  "Soon, child. Soon you shall."

  Marie gestured to a spot on the wall of the cathedral.

  I shrugged. "It's a wall."

  "To you," Marie said. "But there's also a gateway here for Vodouisants to come and go from Vilokan. You should be able to draw some Fomorian magic from Vilokan's firmament here. Take what you need. There is plenty to spare. But the firmament is all that prevents the city from flooding."

  I nodded and pressed my hand against the cold stone of the cathedral wall. I inhaled.

  She was right. The magic there, it was profound. Not as strong as the magic surrounding Fomoria, but it was significant no less.

  The magic tingled through my body. After drawing in infernal power before, this pure Fomorian magic was like aloe vera on my hell scorched soul.

  I forced the energies into my medallion.

  Fully charged. I was good to go.

  "Is Agwe ready?" I asked Tahlia.

  "He's on his way with the Nammu, now."

  "Has he told her where her baby is?" I asked.

  Tahlia shook her head. "Didn't think it would be wise. She might lose her cool and go after Fomoria. But if you are there... if you can speak to her... maybe she'll listen. At worst, she'll still provide you cover to return."

  "Nammu will listen to you," Marie said. "I would advise telling her the truth as soon as you see her. But you must also ensure her you can return her child to her."

  I bit my lip. "Tahlia, does Agwe know where he has the baby wyrm hidden?"

  "He isn't sure," Tahlia said. "He has a few guesses."

  "Perhaps you should confront the king," Marie said.

  "Yeah, right," Tahlia interjected. "That man doesn't know how to listen to reason."

  "Have a little faith in the king," Marie said. "He might be misguided. But didn't you say the caplata thought to take the wyrm that he might eventually introduce you to it, to bring the Wyrmriders about?"

  I nodded. "He must not think I can tame an adult."

  "Could you blame him?" Marie asked. "With any wild creature, is it not better to tame them in infancy?"

  "Of course," I said. "But the wyrms are not common animals. They are intelligent. They have feelings, not unlike our own. Yes, they have the reptilian urges their dragon cousins also possess. But they are more than pure instinct."

  "I do not know Agwe's plan," Marie said. "But I'd suggest demonstrating to the king that you are La Sirene."

  "How would she do that?" Tahlia asked.

  "Do not sneak into Fomoria. Return victorious, both of you, as the first two Fomorian Wyrmriders."

  21

  AGWE WAS CYNICAL about Marie Laveau's idea. But he also respected her counsel. There was a reason, after all, why she was known as the Voodoo Queen of New Orleans. And it wasn't just because she ran the best head shop in the French Quarter. Based on the fact she was around two centuries old and still looked not a day older than forty, she'd likely seen a lot more than most people.

  With age c
omes wisdom. It was still hard to believe she was so old. I was inclined to credit her incredible hemp lotion... and probably a bit of Voodoo magic, for her longevity and youthful appearance.

  As Agwe put it, though, Marie Laveau has always had a gift to foresee the future. If she suggests something, he insisted, even a Loa like himself would be foolish not to heed it.

  Provided, of course, I was willing...

  And Nammu was agreeable.

  I'd be lying if I said I didn't have any reservations about it all. Sure, I did alright my first foray on land since I appeased the dragon essence by shifting into dragon form. But I'd be lying a second time if I said there wasn't a part of me that got a thrill out of the encounter with the rougarou...

  If, as much as it hurt, feeling hellfire course through my body didn't also remind me of the sensation of fire in a dragon's belly. A part of me craved it.

  The inability to shift back into dragon form, in fact, was irking at me... until now... I had the magic I could use. But I needed to use it to go back to Fomoria.

  Resist the urge, Joni. Willpower. Not as powerful a force as some people think. Set a tub of cookie dough ice cream in front of me, and I'll prove it to you. My willpower cowers in the face of the almighty Ben and Jerry.

  It took every bit of concentration I had not to throw my hands in the air, shout "screw it all," and let the dragon out again.

  Which is why I had to go back... I needed Fomoria. Just siphoning the magic wasn't enough to keep the urges at bay. I had to be steeped in it. I had to surround myself with it... and Fomoria was the only place where that was even possible.

  Showing up guns blazing—metaphorically speaking, of course—was likely to get me permanently expelled from the city if Julie and Marie were wrong about King Conand's intentions.

  Not like I knew Tahlia much better. In fact, my initial impressions of her weren't exactly glowing. But I had to admit, she'd proved herself reliable so far. And she was cynical about the king and whatever he was trying to do.