Sea God of the Sands: Book One of the Firebird’s Daughter Series (Firebird's Daughter 1)

by Kyrja

  “You told me she took him while he was unconscious. Maybe she can’t take him against his will. Otherwise, what would have kept her from taking him before?”

  “And what do you have to say about all this Kerr?” Denit asked, turning her head to look over her shoulder while raising her voice loud enough to be heard from a short distance away.

  Aidena started when Kerr’s voice could be heard cursing from behind the dune. She and Denit turned as one as Kerr stood up, brushing the sand off that had stuck to him when he’d lain on the ground to eavesdrop.

  “After all this time, did you really think I wouldn’t have known you were there?” Denit asked.

  “Damn you and your Sov-cursed abilities!” Kerr grumbled, cresting the dune as he walked towards the women. “What do you want me to say? That I’m sorry? Well I’m not!” he huffed. “Jarles is my grandson too, and I’m worried about him. I won’t apologize for that!” he sneered, crossing his arms as he came to a stop a few steps away from Aidena and Denit.

  “And what do you think you’re going to accomplish by sneaking up on us?” Denit asked.

  “How should I know?” Kerr shouted, his arms flailing. “You’re always doing something crazy! I thought maybe this time you might do something that would …” he faltered. “I don’t know! Something that would help Jarles!”

  “But isn’t this what you wanted?” Denit asked, her own voice tense, but quiet by comparison. “You wanted him to go to Amphedia, and now that’s where he is. I don’t even know why you’re here.”

  “You infuriating woman!” Kerr gritted his teeth, leaning towards her with balled up fists by his sides. “No you don’t! After all this time you aren’t the only one with secrets!”

  “Secrets?” Aidena felt her eyebrows rise.

  “If she’s told you half of her secrets, she hasn’t come close to telling you all there is to know!” Kerr told Aidena. “You have no idea how dangerous she is!”

  “Only to those idiots you keep sending to kill me,” Denit replied, rolling her eyes.

  “Kill you?” Aidena asked, astonished.

  “She’s dangerous!” Kerr repeated.

  “I’ll ask you again,” Denit said, her voice hardening into a clear threat, “What are you doing here? What do you want?”

  “Do you see?!” Kerr exclaimed, pointing at the flowers thrusting through the sand all around the space where they were standing. “Stop it Denit! I have a right to be here!”

  “You’re absolutely right, Kerr, but I don’t have to stay,” she said, walking past him.

  “Wait!” Kerr shouted. Denit came to a stop, waiting, her back to him.

  Aidena watched as Kerr dug a small object out of a pocket of his robe, held it in both hands for a moment, as if he was reluctant to show Denit, now that he had whatever it was in his hands. Then he turned around, holding it out in one hand for the other woman to take.

  “I never told you,” was all he said.

  Despite her pointed disdain for the man, and especially for his theatrics, she turned around, ready to dismiss whatever he had to show her as irrelevant. Instead, she felt a chill race up her back, and her eyes widen. “How did you get that?” she whispered.

  “From my father,” Kerr replied, the look on his face warring between regret and anger. Denit wasn’t altogether certain he wasn’t going to pout. “I thought … “ he hesitated. “Well, I thought I would be different, I suppose. Who doesn’t?” he shrugged. “I thought it meant I would be the father of the savior,” he said quietly, embarrassed at sharing such a long-held secret. “I’m not sure why I thought I would be, since none of the men who had this in my family ever were. I suppose I just always thought I wanted to be more than anyone else did.”

  “What is it?” Aidena asked, leaning closer to Kerr to see what he held in his hands. It looked like nothing so much as a pearlescent stone made to look like very large drop of water. Even though the moon was a slim crescent, the stone caught the moonlight, casting a slight glow on the palms of Kerrs’ hands.

  “It’s called Amphedia’s Tear,” Denit replied. “There are only supposed to be a handful in the world.”

  “What does it do?” Aidena was intrigued.

  “It’s said that Amphedia shed one tear for each of her children as she killed them so she could bring them back to life if she wanted to,” Denit explained.

  “It does much more than that,” Kerr told them. His voice hushed with a sense of awe, he held it up, his attention riveted on the luminescent stone. “With this small token, you can become a true child of Amphedia.”

  Denit snorted, “So she can kill you too? Are you out of your mind? Why would anyone want to become her child?”

  “Look Denit!” Kerr raised his voice, exasperated. “You don’t have to always be so mean and nasty to me!”

  “And you don’t have to send people to try and kill me either!” she retorted.

  “I heard what you said,” Kerr told her, ignoring her outburst. “That you know where Jarles is. That he’s alive. Knowing Amphedia, she has him under the sea somewhere. So if I use this,” he raised the stone in his hand again, “then maybe I can go get him back! Is that such a terrible thing? Is it?”

  “I have a better idea! I’ll bring him here! Right now! Stand back!” Without another word, Denit pointed her outstretched hands towards the sand. Within moments, a plate-sized hole appeared, then widened. They watched as the sands fell back upon themselves, as if an invisible force was burrowing deeper and deeper.

  “Look!” Aidena shouted, “There’s water!” Nor was it a mere trickle. Water gushed out of the opening, along with two small fish and a crab. And then Jarles was there, sprawled out on the sand, facedown, gasping for breath.

  Chapter Nineteen – Chared’s Confession

  The breeze coming through the open window was decidedly cool. Refreshing, not chilly. No doubt, if he was in owl form, Oculis thought he would be able to glide a very long way, his powerful wings at rest while he rode the currents of air pushing the breeze around this evening. There were times when he missed those simpler times, even before he’d become the smallest bit aware as Siri’s eyes. Before he’d learned how to understand what she wanted and how to seek out those people and things she wanted to observe. He would never have seen this world, he knew, nor any of its wonders if he had remained nothing more than an owl. Too, if he’d been magically enchanted by a human, instead of a goddess, he would never have had the opportunity to have gazed into the crystal goblet. Instead, he would have been at the mercy of those that had.

  He closed his eyes, leaning back against the cushions of the chair in his room. It had been some time since he’d last changed out of human form; he liked the comforts humans enjoyed. Especially the foods and the strange selection of beverages they enjoyed. It had been disconcerting to sleep laying down, at first, but his human body wasn’t at all comfortable sleeping the way his owl body had, so he had learned to adapt. The clothing, though, had proven too constricting and strange, so he had learned how to make it appear as though he wore human attire. There were times, though, when others got too physically close to him, that he felt as if he needed to fluff his feathers to move them away. The habit was one he was able to disguise, and had learned to suppress, as was not trying to turn his head too far. His human body simply wouldn’t allow him the flexibility his owl body did. Still, it was such a waste of time and movement to have to turn his entire body to find out who or what was behind him.

  Oculis sighed – a very human thing to do, he knew – allowing his cataloguing of differences between his human-self and his owl-self to cease. No matter the similarities nor the disparities, the crystal goblet remained blank to him, and he had no idea why. He could guess, of course, but he would never know if he was right or not. Nor had he foreseen this blindness coming. He wondered if Siri had somehow managed to regain her sight, and if that was the reason he could no longer see the future. Or if his ability to do so depended on being in owl form. Perhaps he h
ad become too human and his own eyesight had changed. Perhaps Siri had enchanted the goblet in some manner so that when he’d taken it from her presence, it no longer functioned. For all he knew, Amphedia had found a way to curse the water he used, so he could no longer see the future. Whatever the reason, he was unable to see if Jarles would be coming to the city, or where he could be found.

  “Why am I here?” Chared’s voice interrupted his thoughts, his tone clipped and demanding.

  “Is there somewhere else you would rather be?” Oculis asked, allowing his eyes to refocus on his companion standing at the room’s other window. It, too, had been opened, he noted. Perhaps they were both too restless to leave the windows closed. Oculis almost allowed himself a chuckle at the thought of the two of them feeling as though they were imprisoned when they had, in fact, just escaped from a jail cell. The inclination faded quickly, though, when he remembered P’onyem had died there. He’d been so focused on escape, then on the crystal goblet’s refusal to show him the future, that he’d allowed all thoughts of his former lover to be shut out. He felt the impact now, though, and shook his head. He’d known P’onyem had always served Giya no matter what she might have said, or what she had done for him. Her very human heart, though, had always been his. And his alone. He would miss her, no matter that he’d rarely seen or spoken to her.

  “Do I have a choice?” Chared huffed, looking around as though he was tempted to pace, but choosing to cross his arms over his chest instead, given the confines of the room they occupied.

  “The choice to remain chained to the stone tablet for more than twenty years was yours, as was the choice to leave it once your mother roused you,” Oculis offered, his voice purposefully reasonable and neutral.

  “But it was not my choice to kill her!” Chared roared, leaning forward, his hands balled into fists at his sides. It was easy to see not being able to move about freely, or to pace, was causing Chared distress, but they couldn’t be having this conversation where they could be overheard, so he would have to confine himself to expressing his anger and grief with emotional outbursts. Anger, Oculis knew, was much easier to express than sorrow, but there was nothing he could do to help his companion at this point in time, other than to give him a target for his fury.

  “No,” Oculis agreed, “it was Amphedia’s choice. And,” he pointed out, raising one long, slim finger in admonition, “it was her choice to let you live all those years, when she killed everyone else. Why is that Chared? Why are you alive now? Do you even know?”

  Gritting his teeth, Chared barked his reply “Because I helped Drena!”

  “You were the only one who actually obeyed your goddess when the rest of your order thought it was their right to father her heir,” Oculis elaborated.

  “Yes!” Chared hissed.

  “Then why were you not rewarded Chared?” he pressed. “Why were you punished by being chained to that stone tablet for all those years? Explain that!” he challenged.

  Now Chared did pace, although he could only take three steps before he had to turn around again. Running his fingers through his hair, he let out a long breath. “I should have stopped them. I should have killed them, or saved her. I should have obeyed.”

  “You should have died on that tablet,” Oculis told him. “Why didn’t you?”

  “Amphedia kept me alive.” Chared’s conviction was absolute.

  “But why did she keep you alive Chared? Think! What good were you to her laying there all those years? And why didn’t she stop your mother from waking you up if she knew P’onyem was in Giya’s service?”

  “Why are you asking me all these questions? It doesn’t matter now!”

  “Then what does matter? Can you tell me?” Oculis asked, moving away from the window now, to stand closer to Chared, holding his gaze.

  “You want me to say keeping Jarles safe is what matters now,” he replied, looking away.

  “He is your sister’s son, does that matter to you?”

  “I don’t know.” Chared whispered.

  “He is Amphedia’s heir,” Oculis tried another tactic. “Does that matter to you?” When Chared didn’t answer after a moment or two, Oculis turned to look at him. He’d stopped pacing. He was standing very still; a frown of concentration on his face. He waited, watching the other man’s face, wondering what was going through his mind. He knew Chared could lose his mind at any moment, having no idea what he was saying or doing. Insanity had long been rampant among the desert men who came to the city, their lives often ending in violence. And there was always the very real possibility that Amphedia could possess him again. He’d known it would be a risk to use Chared in his plan, but he was the only one still living who had been there when Drena had been violated. He had seen Jonath’s body, Oculis was sure of it, and knew the circumstances of Jarles’ conception. Insane or not, drugged or not, only he would be able to verify whether the high priest of the Blue Dolphin Order had raped Drena or not.

  P’onyem had told him everything Drena had told her long ago, and knew it would have made everything much simpler if she had not been raped, but wishing for it now wouldn’t undo the deed. Nor would Jarles’ mother been any more kindly disposed towards Amphedia even if she had not been raped. No, Drena would still have convinced her son to avoid the Sea Goddess at all costs. Oculis knew he would never understand humans as long as he lived, no matter how long he remained in human form. What was the point in Jonath’s death if Drena was intent in keeping his son from his destiny as the savior of her people?

  Lost in his own musings, Oculis realized he had turned away from Chared. When he turned his attention back to the other man, he found him braced against the open doorway, one hand on either side of the entrance, as if he was trying to make up his mind whether or not to leave.

  “Chared,” Oculis began, seeking a conciliatory note. Chared must be there when Jarles confronted the High Priest and Priestess at the Temple of Life, he knew, so he would have to find a way to mollify the man until he was needed. Drena’s rape must be exposed for all to acknowledge so Jarles’ authenticity would be questioned. Perhaps he would even be condemned. Oculis was counting on his rejection so he would be lost and alone. That’s when Jarles would be most vulnerable. He’d already seen the outcome to that scenario in the crystal goblet, and was determined to do everything in his considerable power to make sure Jarles was rejected as Amphedia’s heir. At least until the boy was firmly under his own wing. Then, with his help, Jarles would return with a vengeance, claiming his rightful place as the Sea God. The boy didn’t yet understand all he was capable of, nor even the truth of the blood that ran in his veins. Oculis was very much looking forward to teaching him just how few limits he truly possessed.

  To his surprise, Oculis saw tears brimming in Chared’s eyes, his expression one of complete despair. Of course! His mother had just died. How stupid of him to have ignored his companion’s emotions. Still, he hadn’t thought Chared cared overmuch for his mother, not having spent much of his life in her care or company.

  “He should have been mine!” Chared shouted, his face contorting into a mask of fury.

  Oculis felt his brow furrow in confusion. “He? Who?” he asked, “What do you mean?”

  “I mean …” Chared suddenly thrust his hand towards Oculis, growling, his teeth gritted, “Amphedia promised me!”

  Oculis found himself slammed against the far wall of the small room, having been thrown by a blast of what could only be magic. He briefly registered the fact that the small table and chairs which had previous occupied the space against the wall were now in pieces, shattered by the force of his own body being thrown against them. Not pausing to reason with what he thought must be an insane man filled with rage, he transformed quickly into his owl form.

  The next moment, he found himself pinned against the floor of the room, returned to his human form, with Chared standing over him. No matter how angry, nor how insane he was, Chared should not have been able to make him transform into either
form, yet here he was, panting with exertion, his body bruised, fearing for his own life. Fear wasn’t something with which Oculis had much experience, but he knew he didn’t like it one bit now.

  “Amphedia?” he asked, trying to sit up.

  “You stupid, stupid thing!” Chared shouted, leaning over to backhand him.

  “Stop it!” Oculis shouted. “I didn’t do anything!”

  “You’re not a god, or a man, or even an owl!” Chared continued shouting. “You’re just a thing!” Chared hit him again. “A stupid thing!”

  “So what?!” Oculis screamed, putting his hands up in defense. “Why are you hitting me?”

  “Because you’re so stupid!” Chared shouted, leaning over him as he balled his fist to hit him again.

  “Yes!” he screamed, feeling the cords in his throat constrict with the effort of his shout. “I’m stupid! Yes! You’re right! Just stop hitting me!”

  Chared straightened himself, still standing over Oculis, the look on his face one of great pleasure. Oculis didn’t think he looked insane, just very angry.

  “It was me, you stupid godling, bird-thing,” Chared said, his lip curled with disgust.

  “What did she promise you?” Oculis panted, touching the side of his head, when he felt blood trickling onto his face. He didn’t look at his hand, though, afraid to glance away from Chared’s intense scrutiny for the slightest moment.

  “Everything,” Chared responded, his own voice cracking with sorrow on the word. “I was supposed to father the savior. She promised.”

  Oculis couldn’t believe what he was hearing. What was he supposed to do with this information? He couldn’t begin to imagine how he could use it to his advantage. Especially not with a raging lunatic standing over him, determined to beat him to death. Thinking quickly, he blurted out the first question that came to mind. “What happened? Why didn’t she keep her promise?”