‘Hey, it’s Mayflower Wood,’ she laughed, recognising her childhood playground and favourite climbing tree. It was not far from home at all. But it wasn’t the place she was in moments ago. She frowned and rubbed her eyes as memory returned. Where were the ancient trees and giant stones? What about the mound and the figure in the endless desert? She looked up at the trees, but the raven was nowhere to be seen. The sun was well past midday, Ma and Laron would be worried by now.
She started back along the path at a jog. She missed the raven’s company, feeling strangely alone without her feathery companion in front. Her jog dropped to a walk as her thoughts turned from the raven to the woman in the cloak of stars. Had she been a fairy queen? No, she can’t have been, no fairy had such an awesome presence. What did she mean, “the darkness is coming”? Nothing that had just happened made any sense.
It was the silence again that broke her thoughts. No birds sang, or gulls cried, everything was deathly quiet. There was the smell of wood smoke in the air, which was strange for it was far too warm for any hearth. The sky was darkening, but the clouds were muddy and low, and not like rain clouds at all. Maybe farmer Ged had made a bonfire, but bonfire season was months away. That feeling of dread crept back into her stomach, she lurched into a run.
The rough path became a dirt track and then pebbled ground as she emerged from the forest onto her homeland. She slowed. Thick smoke billowed from amongst the trees where her home stood.
‘Ma.’ She staggered into a run.
Chapter 3
The End Of The World
ISSA burst through the gates into her yard and came to a dead stop. All that remained of her home was a blackened, smoking ruin. The house was gone, save for the lower third of two walls held up only by their iron oven that still stood defiantly in the corner.
Her body trembled and she stumbled forwards. What on Maioria had happened? Some fallen beams still smouldered and glowed red, but mostly the fire had burned itself out. She inched across the hot, charred ground. Apart from a few indestructible metal objects sticking up out of the black - a horse’s bit here, there a fire poker - everything was burned to cinders.
A glint caught her eye. She bent to pick up the spoon, only to drop it with a yelp. She sucked her burned fingers and stared at it. The handle had melted into thick blob of metal. What fire burned hot enough to melt metal?
Everything was gone. The beds, tables and chairs, the shelves and bookcase all gone. Broken shards of orange and yellow crockery were strewn in black soil. She picked up a piece and brushed the soot from its surface. It was still hot.
‘Ma’s cup,’ she whispered, tracing the yellow sunflower on it. The paint flaked under her touch and fell away. Ma would not have stayed in the burning house, she was always so careful, and a light sleeper even in sickness. The smoke would have awakened her, but how had this happened? She had not left the stove on, it was too warm for a hearth and no forest fire had spread here, she looked at the green trees beyond the blackened ones that circled her house.
Farmer Ged would have come. He would have seen the smoke from his fields. Her shoes started to smoke, and she leapt back to the cooler grass. She looked to their destroyed orchard. Nothing but blackened stumps stood where once some fifty apple trees had been. Beyond the house towards the paddock their cart was overturned, and beyond that she glimpsed the smoking remains of Haybear, her legs stuck out from her sides and one was missing.
‘No,’ she cried, her stomach heaved.
‘Ma,’ she choked, trying to stop the retching.
A terrible fire, beyond anything she could imagine, had incinerated her home leaving nothing in its wake. How long had it been burning? She’d only been gone an hour, but this looked like it had been burning a whole day.
‘Ma, where are you?’ she called, her voice echoed in the silence. She dropped the broken cup. Beyond the wispy black clouds of destruction there was clear blue, it would have been a perfect summer day.
In front of her all the shadows of the world began to draw together, the shade of the trees, the dark clouds above, the blackened ashes that had been her house, all circling together into a big ball of impenetrable darkness. She stepped back then turned to run, but her feet were rooted to the ground, and her eyes were locked onto the shadow shape. Fear trickled down her spine as the shadows formed into the figure of a man beast towering above her. She began to shake.
A three-pronged helmet spiked upwards from his head, a long cloak billowed behind, leathery wings stretched wide then folded upon his back. His eyes opened. Two flaming red triangles bore into hers. Her soul shrivelled under that awful gaze and she couldn’t breathe for the terror filling her lungs.
A grating raucous caw severed the link the shadow beast had upon her. The shadow screamed. She screamed too, clasping her hands over her ears. The image shuddered and disappeared. She sank to her knees. As the pounding in her ears lessened, she realised there was still that noisy squawking. She looked up and saw the raven a few feet in front of her. He snapped his beak shut and looked at her.
‘You again,’ she gasped. At once relieved to have her companion back, but also feeling that everything was somehow his fault.
‘What was that thing? If I hadn’t have followed you this would… this… I could have stopped this happening,’ she shouted, but immediately felt bad. How could she blame him for the ruin of her home? Somehow he’d stopped that shadow vision, or whatever it was. The raven flew and landed a little way ahead.
‘It may not be your fault, but I’ll not follow you again,’ she said, and turned away.
The raven began squawking until she could not ignore it. She stomped after him, ‘Shoo.’ She made a flapping motion with her arms, but he did not move until she was almost upon him. He jumped into the air and landed to the left of the hill. Realisation dawned on her.
‘Ma, I’m coming!’ She cried, and tore after the bird.
There was a small cave under the hill, although it was more a crack in the rocks. It was just deep enough to fit two people curled up on short beds, and store a little food. For fun she and her mother had made a comfortable den out of it, sealed it with a door, and made it even more secret by growing thorny gorse and thick ivy at its entrance.
It was where they went when the High Winds blew in winter. A time when their house was at risk of being blown away, and they along with it. Most people on the Isles of Kammy had a “Safe Place” they went to when the winds got too high. It was also where they kept their valuables, such as they were. A thin bronze torque that had been Fraya’s mother’s, a steel short sword, courtesy of Farmer Ged - though Ma refused to have weapons in the house and, most importantly, a mixture of Ma’s savings and Issa’s earnings kept in a leather pouch tucked behind a loose rock hidden just outside the door.
Last time she looked, there were four gold coins, twenty-four silver and eighteen bronze. Not a bad amount, but not enough to make them rich either. Habit made her check the coins were still there. She found the loose rock, moved it aside, and pulled the money pouch free with a jingle.
The raven landed on a jutting rock, just above the cave entrance. She looked up and saw a bloody handprint on the door, dark red and dried. Issa’s mouth went dry. She stuffed the pouch into her pocket, and pushed through the gorse, ignoring their stabbing spikes. She hefted her weight against the stiff door and it opened with a noisy creak.
‘Ma?’ she stared into the darkness.
With trembling hands she reached for the lantern inside. There wasn’t much oil inside and it sloshed around noisily in her shaking hands. She twisted the knob, and after a few weak sparks it flared into life. Shadows danced upon the walls as she peered into the gloom. She stepped forwards, and let the door swing shut behind her.
‘Are you in here?’ she said. A croak came, then a voice that sounded barely human.
‘You came. I knew you would. My beloved daughter lives.’ The croak descended into sobs and a mound shook in the far corner.
Is
sa scrambled over to it, only to shrink back from the charred bloody figure who bore little resemblance to her mother. She was wrapped in a blanket, but where it fell away her hair was gone, her scalp was burned red raw. Her face was smudged with black soot and in the cracks, blood oozed. A crooked, blackened hand pulled the blanket closer.
‘Don’t look, Issy. I’ve done what I can to ease the pain, and now I move beyond it. I’ve been praying to see your face one last time. Now that blessing has been granted, my time draws near. And pray it happens before the pain returns.’
Issa collapsed down next to the trembling figure, forgetting her horror.
‘Ma, what happened? It will be all right, we can find a wizard doctor from the mainland,’ Issa said, but her voice shook more than her hands. It was plain to see her mother would not last the next hour. ‘I don’t care whether you are my blood mother or not. You are right, it changes nothing. If anything I love you more not less for all that you have done.’ Hot tears slid down her face.
‘Lovely Issa, your words rest my soul and heal my heart. How hard it must be for you I can but imagine. I am sorry to have told you these things. Just know that three parents, and not just two, loved you dearly. I kept you safe, as your mother requested. She was like you, Issy. Tall, long dark hair, the same flawless face beautiful as an elf’s…’ Fraya wheezed and swallowed.
‘Don’t speak, Ma, rest.’
‘No I can’t, you must know. What little there is to know,’ Fraya said, and as she spoke her voice became stronger. ‘I didn’t know your mother well, but she was kind to me. Her name was secret, to protect her and you. There was a toughness about her despite her slight form - she had an inner strength far beyond my own.
‘She wore the blue robes of a seer and was a skilled healer. She was also gifted with the Sight and said that the goddess talked to her in visions. She had a soul with a purpose and a plan, reaching higher than her own physical wants and wishes. How else could she have let go of her beautiful child? She truly was a Guardian of the Goddess.
‘Of your father I know little, only that your mother said to tell you so you would know. He was a bard who could move magic with his music, a just warrior and a follower of the Old Ways. He had the talent for animal-mind speak and cared for animals much as you do now. A compassionate soul is a rare thing in this world. One thing you must know and never forget, dear Issy, is that your mother and father loved you very much, enough to let you go so you would survive.’
The tears fell down Issa’s face as her mother spoke. She had so many questions, but she did not ask them for fear of interrupting her mother’s flow and never hearing the last of it.
‘We cannot outrun the darkness that plagues this land. Out here on the Isles of Kammy we can forget the rest of the world, we can forget our mortal peril from the spreading evil. But it is a terrible lie, for what affects one affects all, and long ago, even at the time of the Ancients, the seers knew Baelthrom could not be stopped, and would not stop until all of Maioria was in his grasp.’
Issa frowned. Were the Ancients really real? Who was Baelthrom? She saw in her mind the shadow beast again, with its raging red eyes. She shook her head.
‘The Immortal Lord came from the Dark Rift, out of the oblivion that scars Maioria’s night sky,’ Fraya said.
Issa considered the black hole far away amongst the stars that was sometimes visible on a moonless night. There was a black hole on the woman’s robe into which all the stars were falling. Was it the same hole? Fraya continued.
‘Baelthrom and his vile necromancers and undead soldiers scourge the lands to the east… The goddess knows what evil now walks upon our beloved Maioria. They came a day or so ago, you were gone for all that time. I thought they had taken you.’ Fraya’s voice weakened, and a rattling cough racked her body.
‘I’m here, it’s all right,’ Issa soothed, reaching to touch her, then falling back for fear of hurting her more. ‘I was upset for a while, and then a raven came. It sounds silly, but I followed it, and we got lost in the forest. I fell into a Fairy Pocket, only there weren’t any fairies. It was so strange… I met a woman, all tall and pale, and robed in a cloak made of stars…’ She trailed off as her mother struggled to breathe.
‘A raven…’ Fraya gasped. Issa wondered at the faint smile on her mother’s face.
‘I know nothing of the immortals, nor this Bael… Bael… person,’ she couldn’t bring herself to say the name.
‘Baelthrom,’ Fraya hissed it for her. ‘Only the old upon the Isles of Kammy will know of them. Long ago, when we were young, the seers and priestesses came to our shores warning all about the rise of this ancient threat, and with their magic showed us Baelthrom and his beasts. We were terrified, and in our naivety we forbade each other to speak of him, lest he hear us and darken our shores. Our children have heard little of the darkness that eats the East.
‘But they came anyway, Issy. Dromoorai and their black Dread Dragons, and all the horrors I hoped never to see. They burned everything, said they’d razed the whole island looking for magic wielders and children, and a child of a seer. Thank the goddess you weren’t here. They left me to burn in my bed, but here I crawled, through the flames and cinders, to wait for you. I’m sure you, my daughter, are the one they wanted.’
Issa shook her head. ‘I don’t understand, none of this makes any sense. What are Drom-oor-ai and Dread Dragons? What do you mean?’ Her mother had surely gone mad and was talking gibberish.
‘I tried to keep all this from you, to keep you safe from the horrors of the world, because I love you, and I knew the path you would one day tread would be the hardest of all. I had so many dreams about you before you came to me, all about the prophecies the seers had taught me… When I had you in my arms, I did not want them to be true. But my beautiful child has survived.’ She tried to smile, but it became a wince as her skin cracked and a trickle of bright blood oozed down her cheek. She reached up a shaking hand. Issa lowered a wet cheek to rest lightly upon her mother’s palm.
‘I have been your guardian until the time came for you to help Maioria through the darkness. The Immortal Lord knows of the prophecies, knows there’s a threat to his might, and he’ll do all he can to stamp it out. Get to Bigger Kammy, get to the mainland if you can…’ Her hand fell and she slumped.
‘Ma, please don’t leave me alone here,’ Issa pleaded, reaching to hold her hand as if doing so would stop her slipping away.
‘You have powers within you. The seers will help you, find the Seers of Myrn. Follow your heart, it will know.’ Fraya fell silent.
Issa felt her pulse, it was weak against her fingers, fluttering fast then so slow it was almost non-existent. The lantern spluttered and flickered, then dimmed.
‘Oh I see her now,’ her mother said. Her eyes shone as she looked upon something Issa could not see. ‘Oh she’s beautiful. She stands beside you, you look alike.’ Issa looked around but could see nothing. ‘Yes,’ Fraya whispered, ‘lead me to the light.’
As Issa peered into the dark, a faint light formed, shimmering rainbow colours as it twirled above her mother’s chest. It pulsed and disappeared. The charred hand Issa held squeezed one last time and was still. A long sigh came from her mother, her chest sunk and did not rise again.
Issa sat there in the darkness, as unmoving as the body of her mother. There were no tears, there weren’t even any thoughts, only a terrible empty numbness. She felt that a part of her had died as well.
Issa shifted in the dark. Her mother’s hand was stiff and cold.
‘What is the point of death?’ she whispered, but her quiet voice echoed in the empty cavern, holding only a hint of the war raging within her. ‘It serves no useful purpose, it should not be. Living forever makes more sense,’ she said. ‘Who is it that dares to take Ma away?’ she demanded of the person her mother had seen, but there came no answer. Her voice echoed into silence. Her questions would not be answered. They, like all life, were futile.
Hot grief-filled r
age welled up within her. It took her by surprise, its suddenness and potency. She dropped her mother’s hand and clenched her own hair, rocking backwards and forwards upon the bed. A crying howl pushed through her body so forcefully that it came out silent at first, and turned into a ragged scream that tore her throat. Again and again she howled, the furious grief shaking her whole body, her hands clawed at the air as if she could crawl up and away from her own existence.
She wanted to destroy everything until nothing remained of the world, not even herself. Her hands became hot and red, but she barely noticed. Sparks of light, like static energy, flickered around her fingers. The flares turned into blue shards darting from her finger-tips to strike the cavern walls. She cried out, more sparks flared and exploded against the wall with such force that cracks began to appear.
Rocks started to fall as the cave shuddered, but she ignored them, all she could feel was the all-consuming rage. The flying sparks became dangerous shards of lightning, incinerating everything they touched. The food baskets burst into blue flames. More sparks hit the stools and beds, and they too flared.
She screamed, and a ball of fire erupted from her hands with such force, it exploded into the cave and sent her flying backwards. Her back hit the door, it splintered as she catapulted out of the crumbling cavern. Consciousness wavered into darkness.
Chapter 4
Dromoorai
ISSA bolted upright. Warm sunlight cast her in yellow. For a brief moment, she thought she was in her own bed, and the sunlight was spilling through the window. She blinked up at the burnt hole in the rock where their hideaway had been. Fear settled in her belly. There was nothing left, everything had been incinerated, just like her home.
Night Goddess (The Goddess Prophecies Book 1) Page 3
