“Death!” he cried. “Foul, gruesome death awaits those who do not heed the words of doom! Awaits those who ignore my words at their peril! For their very soul shall burn in the pits of–”
“Greetings, Master Seer Zenos,” I called out.
“Do my eyes deceive me? No, it is indeed Dayna Chrissie!” Zenos said, as he dropped the whole ‘Book of Revelations’ ranting as easily as I’d have kicked off a set of slippers. “It is kind of you and your friends to visit me at work.”
“Indeed,” I agreed, trying and failing to suppress a grin. The man’s halo of thin white hair still gave him a slightly comic look. It wasn’t helped by his choice of tunic, a fuzzy blue thing that looked as if it were made out of cheap terrycloth.
Zenos and I hadn’t exactly started off on the right foot. As a matter of fact, it had been hate at first sight. Zenos had felt that summoning me threatened the work of the soothsayers. But since then, I’d acknowledged the man’s insights as correct (rare and usually late though they were), so he’d warmed up to me a great deal.
“What can I do for you this fine evening?” he asked.
“As it happens, I need your help…reading a certain prophesy.”
The man’s face brightened. “Splendid! Do you have a copy?”
I looked to Galen. He remained nonplussed when it came to the soothsayer, probably due to the years that he’d spent enduring Zenos’ rantings at court. But the centaur passed up on the opportunity to comment and instead just pulled the Codex out of one saddlebag.
“By the light of the golden sickle!” Zenos exclaimed, as he took the text, “this is a rare book indeed! How did you ever come by it?”
“It’s a long story. But can you read it?”
A hush fell over our little party as Zenos flipped through the pages. He traced the edges of several of the letters, mumbled to himself, and then finally returned to the inside cover, where a quartet of squiggly symbols were mashed together in a diamond formation.
“This is what my brothers and I call Rohonic text,” he stated plainly. “I can read it, after a fashion.”
Liam let out an exhalation of pent-up breath, but I wasn’t relaxing yet. “What do you mean, ‘after a fashion?”
“Old Rohonic is at best halfway understood. It’s part letter, part pictogram, and two-thirds metaphor.” Zenos pointed at the symbols on the open page, and I had to squint to make them out in the ambient torchlight. “See here? Together, these four symbols make up the sinuous outline of a single dragon.”
Sure enough, if you squinted at the symbols in a certain way, you could make out what Zenos was referring to. But what got my attention were the soothsayer’s next words.
“As to the words themselves, they make up a phrase that could mean ‘The Gossip of the Pretty Dragon’, or ‘The Secrets of the Deadly Dragon’. It all depends on context.”
“Yeah,” I said dryly, “I’m pretty sure it’s the latter.”
“Well, if you trust my skills with the translation, perhaps you could entrust your text to me for a couple of days?”
“Master Seer,” Liam began, as he stepped up to bow before the soothsayer, “This text is vital to my people’s well-being, and time is of the essence. Can you try to work your translation this very night? The Fayleene would be grateful.”
Zenos blinked. “This dusty old text…is suddenly of great and important need?”
“It is,” I acknowledged. “And Liam here is the next in line for the Protectorship of the Fayleene. His gratitude could come in handy for your guild.”
The old man clapped the book shut and made a yellow-toothed smile. “Very well, then! My pronouncements of doom shall have to bide for a while, then. You all look as tired as I shall be, by the end of this night. And you are in need of this information as soon as is humanly possible. So I shall extend my invitation to you all.”
“Invitation? To what?”
“Why, to stay overnight, of course!” Zenos tucked the Codex under one arm and used his staff as a walking stick. “We have plenty of room at the soothsayer’s guild for all of you. And of course you’re going to accept my offer. I have foreseen it!”
Galen shook his head ruefully at that, and Shaw let out a throaty chuckle. Frankly, so long as the soothsayers didn’t sleep on beds of nails, I was game.
“All right,” I agreed, “we are your guests for tonight.”
“Aha!” Zenos cried in triumph, as we followed his fast, limping walk down one of the side streets. “What did I tell you? I am never wrong. Never!”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The soothsayer’s guild turned out to be a mushroom-shaped collection of tan and white wood buildings, some of which were irregularly stacked on top of one another. Instead of thatch or wood, the slanted roofs were tiled in gray slate. Porthole-style windows with red or blue glass added a touch of color to the mix. Though, taken as a whole, the entire structure looked like a pile of dirty dishes sitting in someone’s sink.
The doors were tall, but not especially wide. Galen paused to knock the dirt from his hooves before he entered, and then only had to duck slightly as he entered. Shaw on the other hand had to hold his breath on an inhale before squeezing his bulk through, even with his wings folded.
“Thou hast best reconsider thy thoughts, Fayleene,” he grumbled, as Liam watched with amusement, evidently contemplating a comment.
Inside, the atmosphere was a heady mix of charcoal, fragrant herbs, and pipe tobacco. A large table dominated the guild’s main hall. At one end, a pair of servers were scrubbing away the remnants of a rather messy dinner. Perched on the other was a pile of pseudo-scientific equipment and astrological charts. Long couches stacked high with tasseled pillows took up an entire wall. A fire burned away merrily in the hearth, heating an iron pot that hung on a big black hook over the flames.
“Akelda! Aki, we have guests!” Zenos called. He peered around impatiently as he added, “Where is that damned acolyte of mine?”
A stout, middle-aged woman dressed in a hooded cloak appeared from one of the many doorways. A dark widow’s peak of hair jutted from under her hood. “I am here, Master Seer. I’ve been busy settling accounts with that Vatalbsky woman. The one claiming compensation for the theft of her crystal ball.”
“Blast and damn that woman, pay her and move on.” Zenos leaned over and added in a whisper, “Anyone with a crystal ball should have seen that theft coming a furlong away, but so long as the member pays their dues, we’re honor-bound to help out.”
“I can understand,” I replied. This was news to me – that the soothsayers operated a sort of insurance policy for their members. For some reason I’d always thought of doomsayers like Zenos operating as free agents.
“Aki, we have Lady Chrissie joining us,” Zenos stated, with a rap of his staff on the wooden floor. “Also, a fine wizard centaur, a griffin from the royal guard, and a Fayleene prince. Kindly set out food, drink and prepare some sleeping arrangements.”
Akelda blanched a little under her hood. “But sir…all we have is frumentum on the fire this evening. And since we are hosting the Convention of the Eastern Scryers, our sleeping cells are all spoken for!”
I wasn’t sure what the food was, but it did smell good. Galen nodded at me encouragingly and I said, “We’re not fussy eaters. And given how tired we are, bedding isn’t too much of an issue, either.”
“Then I shall turn you over to Aki for the nonce,” Zenos pronounced, “while I begin work on your Codex of ‘The Pretty Dragon’.”
The fare at the Soothsayer’s Guild turned out to be a good deal better than I would have expected. Somewhere, a bowl of garden greens and turnip tops was found for Liam. ‘Frumentum’ turned out to be something an awful lot like the canned beef stew my family ate while on camping trips. A rich, meaty gravy covered veritable slabs of white turnips and carrots. The gravy itself had been thickened with cracked kernels of wheat. I gobbled down an entire bowlful, along with a chunk of fresh-baked bread and a goblet of summ
er crush. Galen polished off two bowls.
As for Shaw, Aki simply set aside the rest of the wide-mouthed pot and allowed the griffin to dive in beak-first. If Grimshaw was at all concerned about burns, he didn’t let it inconvenience him as he stuck his head into the hot metal container. In fact, the sounds of his gulping and chewing were echoed inside the pot, drawing plenty of curious stares from the guild’s other guests.
“Thou needest sleep,” Shaw announced, after letting out a lion-sized belch. “I shall take first watch and let the wizard and Fayleene replenish themselves.”
“I think we all need sleep, big guy,” I noted. The hearth fire had begun to burn low by the time we’d finished off the guild’s repast. And after being keyed up all day, the warmth of the room and the full tummy from the late dinner were starting to tug my eyelids towards the ‘down’ position.
Akelda approached and gave a little bow. “I am familiar with griffin custom,” she said politely. “Inside the guild, an acolyte stands watch during the night hours. Also, we have protective magic wards guarding our guest hall. You may all sleep knowing that your safety and honor is assured.”
“See, Shaw? So we don’t need to–”
The griffin had already curled up on the floor like a big cat and begun to snore.
Both Fayleene and centaur had selected a variety of cushions to recline on.
Liam simply nodded at me tiredly as he neatly folded his legs under his body. “This is the first night since my ‘ascension’ that I’m going to sleep in a hopeful mood.”
“Me, too.” I reached out and touched his antler again, for luck. I took a closer look in the flickering firelight as he closed his eyes. His antlers had just about evened out in their growth.
Galen followed Liam’s lead in folding up his legs, though as he closed his eyes, he turned his arms so that they rested palms-up, index finger and thumbs curled together. If it weren’t for his equine lower half, the wizard would have passed for any one of Los Angeles’ thousands of yoga practitioners as they went into a meditation pose.
I commandeered one of the couches that sat against the wall and piled up a couple of the remaining pillows to put my head on. The fabric smelled like it had sat too close to a campfire, but it was soft, and I was beyond being fussy. Sleep came as quickly as if I’d flicked off the switch on a light bulb back home.
That wasn’t to say that my brain switched off, though.
In my mind, it was winter again.
The blood trail stood out against the snow. Scarlet splatters led away into the woods, outlining the drunken stagger of a gut-shot Fayleene doe. A bright gash marred the papery-thin bark of a sugar maple tree. The trail swung back towards my family’s house.
I knew what was to come, but even so, I dreaded it.
The rambling cords of Christmas lights on the porch lit up the yard, looking less festive than ever. Casting a sickly red-green glow against the snow. I walked on by them, past the rust-spotted hulk of the family station wagon and up to the peeling garage door.
Smell of old latex paint and blood in my nose, taste of it in my mouth.
I pushed the door open.
The all-weather bulb inside the garage shone on Daddy’s blood-slicked hunting vest. His keening wail as he knelt over the coffin-shaped freezer still chilled my blood. He gathered up the limp body of the Fayleene and held it towards me.
His voice was an accusing shout. “This is your fault, Dayna! Yours, Dayna! Yours!”
“Dayna,” a more reasonable voice said, as it overrode my father’s, “Dayna, it is first light. You must get up, for destiny does not wait for laggards.”
I opened my eyes. The fire had gone out in the hearth, but a gray morning light filtered in through windows beyond the table and a pair of tiny round skylights set high in the roof overhead. Master Seer Zenos stood by the couch I’d commandeered as my bed, offering me a hand up. I let out a small groan as I took it; it was early, I was still groggy, and the closest cup of coffee was an entire world away.
Galen still reclined on his cushions, eyes closed. Shaw had rolled onto his back, snoring loudly, his limbs curled up in such a way that he looked like griffin roadkill. Liam waited quietly at the far end of the table, sipping at a bowl of water. I shook my head as I joined the Fayleene and Zenos at the far end of the table. Zenos pushed a cup of warm liquid into my hands as he sat back in his seat.
“I shall wake your other companions shortly,” he began. “But I wanted to speak first with you two about what I’ve learned.”
“Why?” I asked, after I’d downed a couple slurps from the cup. It tasted just like someone had crumbled green tea leaves and a handful of peat moss into some warm water, but it was surprisingly fortifying. “I don’t withhold information from any of my friends. What I know, they know.”
Liam nodded agreement. Zenos rubbed his tired eyes with a pair of bony fingers. “Maybe I am being too cautious, then. Listen to what I’ve learned, and you can make your own decision.”
“That sounds fair to me,” Liam said. I sat back, holding the warm cup in my hand for reassurance.
“This Codex is a recounting of an event called ‘the Great War’. A war that took place almost three thousand years ago.”
“Between who?” I asked. “That’s two whole eons and change older than this kingdom.”
“I only have part of the answer,” Zenos said heavily, “which is why I wanted to speak with both of you about this in private.”
“We’re all ears.”
The soothsayer opened the book to a page he’d bookmarked with a colorful bird’s feather. He scanned the strange words for a moment, as if to refresh his memory before he spoke.
“In the last battle of that war, the side which wrote the book, the so-called ‘Creatures of Light’ faced off against the ‘Creatures of the Dark’ on the other.
“There are several symbols that represent the battle line for both sides. In the time you’ve given me, I’ve only been able to decipher a couple. The most obvious, anyway. For example, on the side of the Light. See here? The sigil here is commonly understood to mean ‘magic’. The one below is the symbol for ‘stag’. This must refer to the deer of fey magic, or the Fayleene.”
The feeling of tumblers turning on a safe flashed through my mind as Zenos went on.
“I am less sure about my second translation, but I am willing to make an informed guess. The next pair of sigils below mean ‘lion’ and ‘eagle’. The most obvious interpretation is that this represents the griffins.”
Which is why the griffin elders knew about Sirrahon, I realized. But why send Shaw on such a roundabout journey to get this information? Why forbid him to say who he spoke to? Did these elders know about the histories? About the Codex itself?
“What about the side that lost? These ‘Creatures of the Dark’?”
“Again, I can only understand a few symbols. The sinuous, snake-like sigil means ‘dragon’. And next to it, a quadruple sign of air, fire, magic, and ‘spirit’, or ‘soul’. Today, the wizards use that same design in their runes to signify ‘demons’.”
“So the plot thickens,” I said, half to myself. “There’s no mention of humans? Centaurs? Other creatures of any kind?”
Zenos gave me a helpless look. “I’ve not been able to identify the remaining species via their symbols. It may be impossible, for this language relies so heavily on metaphor and hidden meaning. If I do not know the images behind the metaphors, then it is unlikely we will ever know who was involved.”
“Or on which side they fought,” Liam said darkly.
“Now you appreciate why I woke you first,” Zenos agreed quietly.
Even with the warm tea-and-peat water in my stomach, I felt a chill.
“Here is the remainder I’ve been able to translate about those last days,” Zenos said, and he opened a second, smaller book to sit next to the Codex. His gaze switched back and forth between the two books as he read slowly, cautiously, like a man treading on thin ice. “And so
the forces of the Creatures of Light…triumphed. They could not…destroy many of the ones. I think, ‘Dark Ones’. They turned them back with their name-sigils. Sigils inscribed as if they were…sacred ‘seals of power’. Or ‘banners of power’, I’m not sure.”
Liam perked up. “Is Sirrahon’s name-sigil listed?”
“As a matter of fact, it is.” A quick thump-thump-thump of pages being flipped, and the blood-red mark of a crouching dragon looked out from the mid-section of the book. It wasn’t exactly an endearing design. Zenos turned one more page and continued to read. “The leaders of the Creatures of Light placed as many of the Dark Ones as they could into…the earth. Put them under…rock in order to sleep under the heath. That may be ‘hills’, it is hard to tell. They sealed others inside the great stones that lay athwart the mountains.”
“Spirit stones,” I muttered. “It has to be.”
The sound of a clanging gong shattered the quiet of the morning. Shaw flipped over, awake in an instant. Galen shook his head, groggy from sleep, and began to get to his feet.
“What is it?” I cried.
Zenos slammed the two books on his desk closed, and then shouted over the din. “Something has set off the magical wards that protect the Guild!” He gathered up the texts and pushed towards the front door with them still tucked under one arm. I followed behind, just in time to see the old man raise his staff as he reached the outside. “Get back, dark power!”
Destry neighed, rearing up in answer. The dawn light illuminated his dark equine body like a particularly lively marble statue. The pooka’s eyes flashed golden yellow and his hooves churned the air.
“Wait!” I cried, “Don’t hurt him, Zenos! This creature is a friend!”
“A pooka?” Zenos blinked and took a wary step back. Galen joined us in a clatter of hooves. Shaw squeezed through the door and brought up the rear. “I must admit…never have I heard of a pooka doing anything but delivering bad dreams or bringing terrible news.”
The Deer Prince's Murder: Book Two of 'Fantasy & Forensics' (Fantasy & Forensics 2) Page 19
