‘Let’s go. We grow more real here by the minute, we must leave before we become wraiths ourselves,’ the fairy fluttered up and down.
Fairy magic moved, and the shadow world faded away. Karshur began to burn in her pocket painfully. She pulled the dagger out, it was bright. The voices of the slain echoed around her, calling for the blood of their slayer. She felt the grief of the thousands enslaved by the White Beast wash over her.
She struggled against the sorrow and steeled her heart against the voices. There could be no room for sadness. The time for grieving was past, and she had not come here to grieve. Now was the time for vengeance and it lay in the darkness of the ocean. I am coming for you Keteth.
Chapter 33
The Flow
ISSA returned through the ivy-covered doorway. She stood there blinking in the light and looked down into Arla’s big pale eyes.
‘You were gone for a day and night,’ Arla said and giggled. ‘Cirosa had work to do so she left me here. She wants you to tell her what the vision revealed of your task.’
She’d been gone that long? No wonder she felt ravenous. She scowled at the thought of talking to Cirosa about her private visions. It was early, but the sun had risen.
‘Where exactly did I go?’ she asked, but Arla only shrugged.
‘It depends on the person. Some go to the astral planes, some more gifted go to the ethereal planes, others go to the Realm of the Dead, and some even go to the Shadowlands. They are all the worlds of spirit. Also, some go to the past or to the future, and others to places no one ever knew existed. Few people realise there is more to reality than this solid world of matter,’ Arla smiled enigmatically
Issa considered the strange girl who spoke wise wisdom beyond her years. ‘Have you met the fairy too?’
‘Oh yes,’ Arla grinned. ‘You know it will be all right, don’t you? Whatever happens, it will always be all right because She makes it so,’ Arla said, and turned away towards the Mother’s Chamber.
Issa looked down at her reflection in the sacred waters. Her face was pale, but not as gaunt as it had been in the Shadowlands, and her eyes were almost luminous green. She looked different somehow, there was a hard determination in her face, and when she saw it, she felt it inside. She had purpose again in her life whereas before, after Ma and Little Kammy, she’d had none. That purpose drove her onwards.
She started to follow Arla, then paused when she felt the dagger grow warm in her pocket. She pulled it out, wrapped as it was in leaves, and felt again its keen need for vengeance. It was whispering. She held it to her ear and many voices whispered at once.
‘Three days from now. When the dark moon rises.’
Cirosa sat on a dark red chair behind a wide oak desk in a large study. Book cases filled with books lined the walls and reached from floor to ceiling. She was sorting through a stack of what looked to be Temple administrative papers. Her blonde hair was tied back, and her face was unsmiling and strained. She regarded Issa coolly.
‘Well?’ Cirosa demanded.
‘I saw myself and the desolation of a possible future,’ she began, just as Freydel entered the room. He was still dressed in his riding clothes from the other day and looked exhausted. Reluctantly she continued describing her vision, careful to not mention Karshur or the fairy and keeping as cryptic and vague as possible.
‘So, it seems I must somehow defeat Keteth, and free the souls he keeps imprisoned, uniting them with the Night Goddess. Then will Zanufey have chosen her… disciple,’ she finished awkwardly.
Cirosa snorted, though there was a strange half smile on her face. Freydel’s face was grim. He stared at the empty space in front of him and shook his head murmuring. ‘A terrible task… When does this happen?’
‘When the dark moon rises,’ she didn’t know for sure, but why else would the dagger whisper it?
‘We don’t know when it rises,’ Freydel frowned.
‘Three days from now,’ Issa kept her face a mask. Cirosa pursed her lips.
‘Three days is not nearly enough time to raise you from a beginner to a novice. You cannot even perform a simple trick with magic,’ Cirosa spat, her face flushed in anger.
Issa stared at her with hard eyes, but said nothing, preferring to watch the High Priestess tirade. But something about the way she spoke and moved made it seem as if her anger was forced, maybe for show.
‘This is foolish. By all means, go and slay this beast, this beast that not even our mightiest warriors, our bravest heroes, have managed to slay in millennia. If Freydel is correct about the prophecies and signs, and you survive this beast, it would mean that you are the one chosen by Zanufey to lead the world against the Maphraxies. Do you understand the importance of this?’ The question was an accusation and Issa’s back stiffened.
‘I understand more than you do,’ she replied coldly.
Cirosa barked a laugh. ‘I doubt it, child. I doubt it very much.’
She struggled to control her own rising anger, unwilling to let the High Priestess rile her so. Cirosa always called her ‘child’ too, though she couldn’t be more than a few years older. She desperately wanted to be alone. It was all too much and she was afraid, she needed time to think.
The High Priestess confused her thoughts, disrupted her calm, and filled her with poisonous doubt. She had been called to slay the beast, and it seemed her life since the Dromoorai destroyed her home had been leading up to this moment, and all she wanted was to return to what was before, to Ma and her horses and Tarry.
She clenched her fist behind her back. Was she just a pawn in some game to amuse the goddess? Did her own needs and desires matter at all? Now it seemed she was somehow special, anointed and chosen to do something awful.
‘I will teach her what I can of the arcane arts. She has the ability, I can feel it, though it’s very different to my own,’ Freydel offered.
‘Your obsession with the prophecies has blinded you,’ Cirosa scowled, but her voice was uneasy.
Issa hid her smile. The priestess had misjudged her magical skills.
‘I only hope I’m not left to pick up the pieces when she fails,’ Cirosa added with a sigh.
It was a strange thing to say, she mused, thinking on her conversation with the fairy. Cirosa wanted her to fail. Did Cirosa think she would then give up the mantle of the Night Goddess’s chosen?
‘Until that time, you must begin right away, so what are you waiting for?’ Cirosa demanded. ‘We shall meet three days from now,’ she turned back to her work still scowling.
‘Your horses are ready. Arla, show them the way out,’ she said with a dismissive flap of her hand. They swiftly followed the girl out, all eager to be away from the High Priestess.
It was a bright sunny morning, and though it was still early, it was already hot. Duskar whinnied at the sight of Issa. Seeing him alleviated her dark mood. She stroked his nose, hoping he would let her ride him soon. It was hot enough to take off her over-shirt and she stuffed it into her saddlebags. Freydel did the same.
The breeze was rich with the smell of summer grasses, and the sky was clear blue. Out there in the cosmos, the blue moon moved along its orbit. Would its power fill her as before? Would it give her the strength to kill Keteth? They rode in silence for over an hour, and her thoughts were all about magic.
‘So is it hard? To learn magic, is it difficult?’ she asked Freydel, bringing Izy up beside him. Her voice lifted him out of his own thoughts, and he took a while to answer.
‘You will need to understand the basic principles first, then you must feel the magic that exists all around us. Its energy flows through all things, connects all things, that is why it is called the "Flow.” If you cannot feel it, then you cannot wield it. Once you understand the nature of everything, the energy within and between everything, then you may be able to control that energy and turn it to your bidding. That is the skill and the effort.
‘I must teach you in three days what the greatest wizards have spent their lives lea
rning. So you see it isn’t possible. I can merely show you the door in that time. You will have to learn as you go along, or not as the case may be.
‘Keteth is a powerful wizard, but none understand that power. It’s different, darker, beyond this world. Wizards tried a long time ago to bring him into their fold but failed. His gift was beyond us, his mind out of reach. He works in realms beyond life.’ Freydel shook his head. ‘He was always a mystery. Strong enough and sly enough to elude even Baelthrom. Some say Baelthrom desires his power, fears it even, as every immortal fears death.’
Freydel looked at her thoughtfully. ‘I do wonder exactly what it is you saw back there, but that is for you alone. Unlike Cirosa, I don’t pry. Speaking of her, it’s strange. It’s well known, much to her chagrin, that she is not given to visions nor lays any importance on dreams. Always she complained the goddess was silent to her, her most devout and hard-working servant, and yet now she speaks of having visions.
‘And that harpy appearing… Whilst you were recovering I tried to talk about it, but Cirosa would hear none of it, said it was probably lost or an eagle, and there was no point alarming the whole island. We should be careful with her,’ Freydel confided, and tapped his nose secretly.
Issa was surprised at that, but pleased Freydel was on her side, though she found it strange that he always remained so neutral in the High Priestess’s company. She decided to take Freydel’s lead and chose not to pry.
‘We’ll begin the training tomorrow,’ he said and she nodded, a flutter of excitement in her belly made her forget her worries.
Freydel led them along the longer coastal route back to Castle Elune, a cautious move to avoid any harpies, and also to show her some of Celene. The sea sparkled in the sunlight and they passed many beautiful white sandy coves with turquoise waters lapping at the shore.
They stopped to eat lunch on a flat grassy patch looking out to sea. They tucked into a simple meal of breads and spreads, kindly given to them by the Temple cook; a small thin woman who looked as though she needed the food more than they did.
She watched the sparkling blue sea as they ate, thoughts of Asaph and Coronos filling her mind. She worried for them, but what could she do? If they could reach her in the Shadowlands, then surely they could navigate other oceans. But there was Keteth, moving beneath those waves, tainting the tranquillity. Freydel seemed to read her thoughts.
‘I would have mentioned earlier, but it was not the right time. Last night I made contact with your companions whilst scrying. I spoke with someone I’ve not spoken to for nearly thirty years,’ he beamed, full of wonder, ‘not since the fall of Drax. They are safe and on the mainland, on Frayon, as we suspected. Coronos was searching for you. I told him you were safe and to come to us on Celene. But our link was broken. Keteth’s evil drew near. That was all I discovered.’
She had held her breath whilst he spoke, then let it out in relief knowing they were alive. Asaph’s face floated before her, and she fancied he was beside her now, comforting her. She looked at the flame ring and remembered the link he mentioned feeling between them as. She felt that link too, especially through the flame ring. Curse Keteth for violently separating them so soon.
Since her journey into the realm of spirit, she was sure she could feel the dark moon and its power getting stronger. Would it really rise three days from now? If only Asaph were here with his sword and Coronos with his orb, together with the power of the dark moon she was sure they could defeat Keteth, but without them it seemed impossible.
‘Is everything all right?’ Freydel’s worried face looked down at her.
‘Yes, it’s just… Keteth. I was thinking of Asaph, the younger Draxian. He spoke of a link between us and I was trying to understand it. Together we would surely have a chance to defeat him,’ she rubbed the flame ring.
‘If you are the one of whom the prophecies speak, then Keteth has been searching for you for decades. Surely that is some measure of the power you hold. Even if they were here, only you alone would be able to enter his realm.’ Freydel took her hand in a fatherly grasp.
‘All this ageing man can offer you is something from my own experience; that the past is not who you are and can often be a hindrance. It’s who we choose to be in this moment now that matters. I can teach you powerful magic spells to help protect yourself, perhaps with that knowledge, it will make your burden a little lighter.’
‘Thank you,’ was all she could think to say, but she was grateful for the lighter feeling in her heart.
They packed up their things and set off again. By the time they arrived at Castle Elune the sun was setting.
That evening over dinner Issa spoke to Ely of her trial. The older woman listened quietly, her forehead slowly creasing into a worried frown.
‘My husband, having survived the worst of Baelthrom and his abominable Maphraxie army, found his death in Keteth,’ Ely’s voice was soft, but her face was hard.
Issa put her hand on Ely’s arm and squeezed it reassuringly. ‘Then maybe I can avenge his death.’
‘What by dying yourself,’ Ely said. ‘Must I lose another to him?’ She added more gently.
Issa sighed and spread her hands. ‘I cannot change the task set before me, anymore than any of us can turn away from what we have chosen to do.’
‘It is as the Night Goddess wishes,’ Freydel added softly.
Ely was looking at her strangely, her blue eyes a mix of emotions. Issa waited for her to speak.
‘I’m not happy about this. I don’t doubt your conviction, your strength of resolve, but I do doubt your belief. For a moment it seemed the Night Goddess herself stood beside you… If you do this task, and I see that you must, will you believe in her enough? Will you believe in yourself enough? If you do not, you cannot survive.
‘The test is not whether you can kill the beast and never has been. The test is whether you believe in her, and in turn whether you believe in yourself. The priestess in me can see that much.’
Ely’s words of truth fell like pebbles into the still waters of Issa’s mind, the ripples resounding back and forth across the surface. She would remember those words that resonated through her soul for a long time.
Chapter 34
Wykiry
ISSA had been asleep for only a few hours before the humid heat dragged her from slumber. For a while, she lay there trying to return to sleep, but it was as far away as the morning. She chucked the stifling sheets aside with a sigh and got up. An amble around the grounds would cool her off, she decided, as thoughts of Keteth crowded her mind. She pulled on her shoes and headed out into the warm night.
She made her way to the stables. Duskar whickered at her approach and was bold enough to poke his head out the stable door.
‘There now,’ she soothed as she entered the stable. She laughed when he let her stroke his neck. He stood there quietly intrigued at what she was doing, but not nervous. She sensed he enjoyed her touch on his back. His feelings were like a faint extension of her own. She was glad he was getting used to her presence.
She stroked his nose and slowly moved to his side, stroking and soothing him with soft words as she laid her arms gently across his back. Carefully she put her whole weight upon him and let herself back down again.
He pulled a mouthful of hay from its bag and munched on it. She tried it again, but this time inched her leg over awkwardly and sat on top of him. He turned to look at her quizzically, then went back to his hay bag contented. She laughed softly, joyful at his trust in her. She leant forward and hugged his thick neck, breathing deeply of his smell.
‘You know how hard life is, don’t you, friend?’ she whispered. He snorted and flicked his ears back and forth in response. ‘It seems it must be hard again, Duskar. In truth, I am afraid. I’m a fool for accepting this task.’ She fell silent, listening to him munch on the hay, it seemed he was considering her words.
‘Shall we go outside for a walk?’ she said, and with her mind, not her feet, urged him forwards. Sh
e felt something like acceptance of her request, and he moved to the door. She reached down, undid the latch, and let it swing open. Through no coaxing of her own, Duskar stepped outside. She could sense his immediate joy at being free of the stable.
‘I don’t know, up to you,’ she said with a laugh when he looked left and right as if wondering where to go. He turned left and followed a narrow path through the trees that led eventually to the sea. She didn’t urge him to move, or try to choose a direction, she simply agreed with the path he chose as he took it, and so he continued upon it. Duskar was much taller than Izy, the ground seemed a long way away should she fall, but she knew he would not buck.
They came to a long stretch of sandy beach, the same place she had washed up on what seemed like months ago. There were no storms this night, it was warm and windless and the sea calm, the only sound came from gentle waves lapping the sand. The small pale orange moon of Woetala shone dimly behind the slightly larger brighter light of Doon. The twin moonlight shone off the water and the serenity it created seeped into her body.
The dark moon would not rise tonight, Issa thought. Even though it wasn’t there, she could somehow feel its power in the distance. She didn’t know why. Movement caught her attention and her eyes settled upon the raven pestering a crab in the sand. In the corner of her eye, she saw a large fish break the surface of the water, landing with a big splash that made her jump.
It leapt again and she gasped at its beauty for it was unlike any fish she had ever seen. It was very large, maybe seven feet in length, and its skin was a myriad of colours, all metallic blues, greens and purples. It had two long caudal fins trailing behind it, more like a dolphin’s than a fish.
As it cleared the water again long pectoral fins fanned out like wings. Tendril-like ribbons frayed out around as it glided several paces before diving back into the ocean. Its elegant head was nothing like a fish and instead was smooth and round with a tiny snout. Large golden eyes were set wide and back. There was a shimmer of blue energy in the air where it had been, the telltale sign of magic. She longed to see it again and laughed when it jumped and glided in response to her wishes.
Night Goddess (The Goddess Prophecies Book 1) Page 34
