Night Goddess (The Goddess Prophecies Book 1)

by Araya Evermore

  Wincing from the pain in her head, she opened her eyes only to be immediately blinded by the sun. She shut them with a groan. She had glimpsed enough to know she was lying on her front on white sand. The sun was burning every bit of bare skin, which was quite a lot since she had lost Asaph’s cloak and was dressed in only rags. Her blacksmith’s belt dug uncomfortably into her stomach.

  At least she had not drowned, but now she lay frying on some unknown shore, and her lungs felt as though she’d been breathing sand. She tried to lick her chapped lips, but her tongue was even drier. So, she survived drowning only to die of dehydration. The sarcastic thought made her chuckle, a wheezing rasp that quickly made her stop.

  She opened her eyes, peered through hair straggled over her face, and squinted into the bright light. There was a thick band of white, which she took to be the sand, and a thick band of blue, which she took to be the sky, and both were blinding.

  She blinked and in the distance appeared a blurry figure. The figure grew larger, but the sun came from behind them, making it too painful to look at. She closed her eyes, acutely aware of her lack of clothes, but in too much pain to know fear. She tried to push herself up, but her arms were too weak so she gave up and lay still, her consciousness wavering from the strain.

  Someone, she took it to be the blurry figure, knelt beside her and gently turned her over. She tried to look but nearly passed out. A cup of deliciously cool water was held to her cracked lips. She slurped it down, desperate to slake the burning thirst. Never had water tasted so pure and so good. After a moment the throbbing in her head lessened. She tried to speak, but only a croak came out, followed by a wave of nausea.

  ‘Don’t try to speak or move. You must save your energy, Child of the Raven,’ a well-spoken male voice said, low and reassuring. He must be referring to the colour of her hair, she mused and relaxed a little. Women’s voices came from further away, and something cool and light was draped over her, offering immediate relief from the sun’s burning rays. She drifted lucidly as they carried her.

  As the dregs of Edarna’s potion left her body, and Keteth’s hold upon her mind weakened, strange vivid dreams filled Issa’s sleep, and in them came the sacred mound.

  ‘Maion'artheria,’ the word was a whisper on the wind. It was filled with love that drew her towards it.

  She opened her eyes and sat up. She was in the middle of a glade surrounded by ancient oaks and sitting upon a carpet of grass. A gentle breeze carried the rich fresh scent of the forest. Though she was dressed in only a shift, it was not cold. The sky was tinged pink, but whether it was dawn or dusk only time would tell.

  ‘I know this place,’ she whispered. Ahead of her rising above the mist were the massive blue stones she had seen before. She had been on the beach, then people had come, but how did she get here? She rubbed her eyes, she could not remember.

  ‘Is this a crossing place? To another time and place?’ She spoke aloud hoping the voice would answer her, but there was no reply. Maybe there were hundreds of these places, she imagined, all leading to different lands, maybe even different worlds. She made her way towards them, and the mist cleared as she neared the grassy mound.

  The stones surrounding it seemed whiter than she remembered and positively glowing, like quartz in sunlight. The same large oblong stones framed the entrance to the mound, only this time their edges were sharp and defined, not aged and worn and collapsing. With a finger, she traced the beautiful carvings on the doorframe, all interlocking swirls and symbols, and wished she could understand whatever important message they sought to convey.

  ‘Maion'artheria,’ the voice whispered from inside the mound, and her heart beat faster as she peered into the blackness.

  The silence was complete, not even the wind stirred the leaves in the trees above. It was if the whole world waited and watched. This place was surely sacred, unfathomably old, its existence stretching back into eternity, the very weight of it made her feel magnificently small. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and stepped into the blackness.

  The cold engulfed her, taking her breath away as it surrounded and entered her body. It filled even her mind so that there was nothing but the cold and darkness, eliminating fear, purifying her soul. The blackness did not clear and as she floated images formed in front of her.

  She saw herself suspended in murky seawater. She wore long pale robes that swirled around her and her face was calm and serene. In her hand she held an ornately carved white dagger, the blade was double-edged and undulating, and it was all one piece from tip to haft. It glowed and she could feel the magic in it, a frightening enchantment that was destructive, murderous, and wholly bent on a single purpose - the death of another. The image faded and another came to take its place. A woman’s face appeared. Issa stared.

  ‘Ma,’ she breathed, feeling both joyous and sorrowful as she looked upon her mother’s smiling face. Her cheeks were flushed and she stood straight and strong like she had before the sickness had come.

  ‘I miss you,’ Issa said, but as she spoke her mother disappeared in a flash of white light.

  ‘Wait,’ Issa cried, and tried to follow, but everything became saturated in the same brilliance. ‘Come back. Don’t leave. I need you. Let me come with you into the light,’ she sobbed.

  ‘It is not your time,’ another voice breathed.

  The words resonated through Issa, and a wave of calm flowed over her from the light. She became still and understanding flowed into her.

  ‘Go into the light, Ma, be free,’ Issa whispered, feeling a mix of happiness and sadness. ‘My time is not yet. There are things I came to do.’

  After she had spoken those words she felt she had let her mother go, and a deep pain began to heal. A new understanding formed as wisdom bloomed. She felt her naïve and innocent younger self growing.

  ‘Something fundamental is changing,’ she breathed to the light, trying to understand the feelings within. The world had changed and she had to change with it. ‘There is no going back to who I was before, to what there was before.’

  The woman cloaked in the stars emerged from the darkness, her eyes hidden within the folds of a hood and a raven upon her shoulder. The woman smiled and an intense feeling of unconditional love swept over Issa.

  ‘Maion'artheria, will you help Maioria?’ The woman’s voice was low and gentle.

  Issa nodded and as she did so the raven launched into the air and landed upon her own shoulder. Darkness came.

  Issa found herself lying in a large bed between soft sheets. Warm sunlight spilled into the room through wooden shutters. Exotic sounding birds sang loudly outside, and she could just make out peoples’ voices, the laughter of children, and beyond them the distant sound of the ocean. The air was heady and warm, it was a hot summer’s day. She glanced at her ring and immediately worried about Asaph and Coronos. Perhaps they were already here resting in the next room, wherever here was.

  There came a knock at the door and she pulled the covers up to her neck as the door opened. A tall middle-aged man with shoulder-length greying brown hair and a short neat beard stepped into the room. He had a kind face, slightly tanned, and lightly sprinkled with wrinkles.

  ‘Ah, you’re awake. That’s a relief. It must have been quite a journey you were on. You’ve been asleep for a day and night. We were worried about you.’ His voice was deep with a well-spoken accent. She recognised it from the blurry figure on the beach.

  ‘A day and night?’ she said, wide-eyed.

  ‘Yes. You spoke a lot in your sleep,’ he said, closing the door behind him, and taking a seat on the wicker chair beside the bed. He looked at her thoughtfully. ‘You mentioned your mother often as if you were trying to find her. You kept whispering Maion’artheria too.’ Issa raised her eyebrows. The man continued.

  ‘It means “Sacred Daughter,” although how anybody other than the most learned wizard can know of the pre-Ancient language is quite remarkable. It’s somewhat of a miracle you survived that storm,
we found no others or any wreckage at all. That was no ordinary storm, it reeked of evil.’

  ‘But there were two others, did you not find two men? One older and grey, one younger and fair? They were with me on the boat?’ she said, trying but failing to keep the desperation from her voice. Nausea swept over her, and she closed her eyes and sank down into the pillows.

  He took a cloth from a bowl beside her bed, dampened it in the pitcher of water, and wiped her brow. She was grateful for its coolness.

  ‘Here, drink this,’ he said. ‘It will give you strength and restful sleep.’

  She opened her eyes, relieved to find the room no longer spinning, and drank the pinkish liquid he passed her. It tasted of sour berries, was warming like whisky and oddly pleasant.

  ‘You must rest and not exert yourself,’ he said, frowning. ‘There were no others. We searched the whole island and there was nothing, not a scrap of wood, not anything.’

  He looked at her with concern as if noticing her fluttering eyelids. ‘Your eyes are still feverishly bright. The mind must rest and heal just as the body must. Find peace in the knowledge that we’ll continue to search for your friends and I shall scry for them. With my skills I have sensed no such death upon the ocean these few days past, so trust that they are well.’

  Issa nodded, finding some comfort in his words.

  ‘I will come back later after I have scryed for your companions. We can talk more then.’ He turned to leave.

  ‘Wait. Who are you? Where am I?’ she called out, afraid to be alone in another strange place.

  He paused. ‘Forgive me. I’m Freydel, Master Wizard of the Wizards’ Circle. Physician and alchemist to the Castle Elune and the sacred Isle of Celene, where we are currently. As you know this island is a sanctuary of our Great Goddess, and all who come here are protected by her and guided here for a reason…’ he seemed about to say more but trailed off.

  ‘Celene,’ she echoed. She knew the name, her mother had spoken of the island as a place where Issa could better her healing skills. It was a sacred place far to the south of Little Kammy, and the most southerly and westerly point of the known world.

  ‘I found you washed up on the beach,’ Freydel continued, ‘and myself, Maeve and Eleny, the lady of this castle, have been watching over you since. You were very close to death you know.’

  She dropped her eyes, she still felt weak. ‘I’m Issa. Issalena Kammy.’

  He smiled and inclined his head. ‘I shall return in a little while, Child of the Raven. In the meantime please rest and let the healing potion do its work,’ he turned away.

  ‘Wait,’ she called. ‘Why do you call me that?’

  ‘It was a raven that led me to you,’ he said with an enigmatic smile, and before she could ask any more questions he was closing the door behind him. She puzzled over his words, but soon the heady liquid he had given her worked its magic and sleep came once more.

  She awoke at dawn and watched the pale light in the room grow brighter, bringing the summer heat with it. She was well rested and felt strangely calm and content, something she had not felt for a long time. Hoping she had not been asleep for another day and night, she swung her legs out of the bed. Standing was not as easy as it had been, her legs were so wobbly and weak, she was forced to sit back down again.

  She rubbed and flexed them to get the blood flowing. It helped and eventually she managed to shuffle to the pitcher of water and downed it. Her stomach still rumbled though. A soft knock at the door made her jump, and again she grabbed the bed sheets and wrapped them around her. But this time a plump, middle-aged woman with a red face and a beaming smile waddled in.

  ‘Oh my, I do apologise, I thought you’d still be asleep at this early hour,’ she said.

  She wore an apron over a stripy blue dress pulled far too tight over her buxom chest and heavy bottom. Her greying mousy hair was mostly tied up in a bun under a white caul, except for a few stray strands that hung around her face.

  ‘Oh, it’s good to see you up and about, dear. Me name’s Maeve by the way. I suspect you’ll be wanting a wash by now.’ She had a slight lilting accent, not unlike those found upon the Isle of Kammy, and different to Freydel’s polished one.

  Issa nodded. ‘I’m Issa,’ she mumbled. ‘I don’t suppose you have anything I could eat, I’m faint with hunger.’ Maeve smiled and produced a shiny apple from inside her apron.

  ‘It’s not much, but when you’re washed and clothed there’ll be a breakfast fit for a Queen waiting for you in the garden. I’ll come get you when the bath is ready.’ She turned and left the room leaving Issa munching on the apple.

  Soon Issa was enjoying a luxurious hot bath in a large opulent wet room. Blue-green tiles covered the walls in ornate swirls, and a huge iron bath as deep as it was long, stood in the centre. Dense steam rose from the bath and filled the room. Maeve hummed a song unknown to Issa as she busied herself folding towels and clothes.

  ‘So this is Castle Elune?’ Issa asked blowing white bubbles off her hand and watching them settle upon the steaming water.

  ‘Indeed,’ Maeve replied, ‘although it’s less of a castle and more of a big house by design. It was never meant to be a fortress. It was built differently so that it was not a symbol of war, but of peace and prosperity. You’ll soon see for yourself when you walk around the beautiful grounds.’

  Maeve stopped folding the towels and frowned. ‘Lady Eleny, goddess bless her, looks after the household single-handedly since her husband lost his life.’ Maeve shook her head sadly, then brightened. ‘But she’s a kind and caring Lady, and I’ll not work for anyone else that’s for sure.

  ‘Master Wizard Freydel arrived here a week ago, though we haven’t seen hide or hair of him for nigh on a year. Arrived on the doorstep without any warning he did. Seemed quite flustered if you’d ask me, like he was late for something.’

  Maeve looked up at the ceiling frowning in concentration. Her face shone with sweat and was becoming increasingly redder from the heat of the wet room. She chattered on.

  ‘Dunno what though, Midsummer’s Celebration is the day after tomorrow. Said he urgently needed to speak with the Lady Eleny. Shut themselves away and talked for a night and day they did. Couple of days later that terrible storm came, then he found you and brought you back to the castle, all unconscious and bedraggled. Like a drowned rat I’d say,’ she winked at Issa.

  ‘That musta been an awful experience for you. They found no one else, not even a chunk of wood. I thought you was a gonna in all fairness, but Freydel’s skill and magic soon saw you right again. You still look pale and far too thin though. What you need is Mr Gabbins’ hot cakes to fill you out,’ Maeve nodded at her own words, rubbing her own rotund belly, clearly helped along by Mr Gabbins’ fare. ‘He’s far too grumpy for a cook if you’d ask me, but he means well and his food is fabulous.’

  Issa’s stomach rumbled again at the mention of food, but thoughts of Asaph and Coronos flooded into her mind and she forgot her hunger.

  ‘There were two others,’ she said, rubbing her forehead.

  ‘There now, you don’t want to go worrying about your friends just yet,’ Maeve said. ‘Freydel mentioned there might be others. There are islands dotted all abouts here that they may have reached. You need to get your strength back and then you can find your friends. Now let’s get you dressed and fed.’ Issa took the huge towel that Maeve held up for her and dried herself off.

  ‘We found some clothes that might fit. You came to us in nowt but rags and your own skin,’ Maeve said, plumping her hands on her hips.

  ‘Thank you,’ Issa said. She was truly grateful as she pulled on the soft cotton underclothes, but when she saw the ivy green dress she couldn’t stop a grimace.

  ‘Pretty though it is… do you have any trousers? I haven’t worn dresses since I was a… a child,’ Issa asked reluctantly.

  ‘Only the stable girls wear trousers, dearie,’ Maeve said, clearly surprised.

  Issa forced a smile, fee
ling ungrateful. Swallowing her pride, she slipped the dress over her head.

  ‘We can get some better clothes made up for you soon.’ Maeve said, patting Issa’s shoulder, then helping to tighten the cords across her waist.

  The front was low and the sleeves blessedly short for summer. Though it was a little loose on her tall slender frame, it fit well enough and was of excellent quality. The green matched her eyes and she didn’t look as half as foolish as she thought she would. She slipped on the simple sandals that Maeve passed her, and as an after-thought put her belt on. The thick blacksmith’s belt actually looked quite good, she thought as she twirled in the mirror. Perhaps dresses weren’t so bad after all. Ma would certainly approve.

  ‘Now then,’ said Maeve, ‘let’s go get you some breakfast.’

  Issa followed Maeve through a maze of corridors and reception rooms out onto a small sunny patio. There the smiling woman left her. Wrought iron chairs and a table were shaded by the fronds of slender palms she had not seen before. Beautiful purple and blue flowers clung and hung over the stone walls, and were the prime interest of butterflies - butterflies that were bigger than the hummingbirds they danced with. She seated herself in one of the chairs and looked over the low wall to the rich green lawns beyond, soaking in the green serenity of the place.

  Within minutes Maeve returned with a tray laden with an assortment of sweet cakes, exotic fruits and breads with jams and honey. Maeve had stuffed a few cakes for herself into her apron and began munching on them whilst Issa ate with an appetite she had not known she possessed. Between mouthfuls, they chatted about the house, Lady Eleny, and Celene. Maeve was a font of information on all three topics and a good-natured gossip too.

  ‘Is Freydel really a wizard? I’ve never met one before,’ Issa said.

  ‘Oh yes,’ Maeve mumbled over a mouthful of bread and jam and swallowed. ‘He is one of the best in all Maioria. Though I think he is getting tired now and longs for an apprentice to whom he can pass on his knowledge. Maybe that will be you,’ Maeve said quite innocently.