Harvest of Dreams (The Gods' Dream Trilogy)

by Debra Holland

If only Ontarem had remained content with what He’d had—the love and energy from His people. Why did He covet the power of the other Gods and Goddesses? Why set us into this war that’s killing off our people? If only Prince Indaran hadn’t led the expedition from Seagem to Penutar. Everything changed with the arrival of a powerful prince from outside our land. Although Pasinae couldn’t help thinking that Ontarem had plotted Seagem’s destruction ever since Arvintor’s people had escaped His clutches. And yet, without Indaran’s appearance, she probably would have gotten through her lifetime without leaving Ontarem’s side. However, the time in Ocean’s Glory did have its compensations….

  Pasinae squared her shoulders. The sooner she changed the crystals and subdued Yadarius, the sooner Ontarem would have more power to wage His war. And once Ontarem reigned supreme, He’d have plenty of power and attention for His Trine Priestess.

  ~ ~ ~

  Wearing a long-sleeved tunic and trews from her Ocean’s Glory days, Pasinae tramped along a narrow path made of lava brick following the broad back of the priest Vaptor. She disliked the bitter scent of the foliage—how the gray jungle growth loomed, reaching out stick-like branches that grabbed at her. A whipbush’s long snakelike leaf snapped at her leg, which she dodged before the poisoned surface stuck to her. The leaf curled back to lay innocently against the trunk of the bush, to await the next unwary victim. She’d already suffered a pinch from a stickerbug and had to summon othersense energy to build a warding shield around her body to keep the insects away.

  Pasinae resented having to use her powers against insects when she needed all her strength to hold at bay the turmoil Yadarius caused within her. And the closer she came to where the SeaGod was imprisoned, the stronger grew the dissonance inside her caused by the SeaGod’s struggle to free Himself.

  She paused to catch her breath and wiped her arm across her sweaty forehead.

  Vaptor turned to her. “Do you need a rest break, Trine Priestess?”

  Of course I need a rest break, you fool! With great effort, Pasinae kept the words to herself. She’d be working closely with this man under dangerous conditions and couldn’t afford to alienate him. “How much longer?”

  “Ten minutes.”

  She gritted her teeth and made a get going-motion. Clutching the pearl hanging around her neck, she breathed in Ontarem’s power.

  The God gave her a stingy trickle, barely enough to fuel her for the rest of the trek.

  Vaptor turned and began the climb.

  Breathing labored, Pasinae trudged after him, calves burning. Far more than ten minutes seemed to pass. Vaptor stopped before a ledge, steps carved like a ladder into the lava rock. He pointed to the top. “The lookout is above the crystal repository.”

  Too winded to speak, she nodded her understanding.

  “From there, you’ll be able to see how the three rays imprison the captured God.” He motioned for her to go first up the ladder.

  She put her hands on the step above her head. Feeling the harshness of the stone under her fingertips, Pasinae grimaced. The climb would abrade her skin. She’d always taken pride in the softness of her hands.

  She made a mental note to send a stonecutter to smooth the surface of the steps and began to climb. As expected, the stone cut her fingers, making her wince. But she went on.

  When she reached the top, two thin columns of stone stood at either side of the ladder. She grabbed them and pulled herself up and over the edge, onto a rough-cut balcony shaped like a crescent, about twenty feet wide and ten feet across. A long bench was carved into the side of the cliff, curving against the mountain.

  Pasinae strode to the ledge, where a wall about waist high protected her, and gazed at the panorama below her. She caught her breath at the sight. Three beams of light beamed into the center between the islands, the rays weak and the light fuzzy instead of sharp. The water roiled where they intersected, bubbling white on the surface and gold in the depths from the power of the SeaGod. Through the churning of the water, she saw glimpses of Yadarius, the heavy chains lashing him to his throne loosened by the struggle.

  Through her othersense, the SeaGod’s emotions battered at her—anger as strong as a tempest, determination all the more formidable for being as cold and as fathomless as the depths of the sea.

  Dread ran through her body, chilling her. If the crystals continue to fail, Yadarius will escape and take revenge.

  ~ ~ ~

  Thaddis lay on a slab at the foot of the statue of the Goddess Guinheld, trying to calm his fear. He was clad only in a loincloth, after having ritually bathed in the small crescent-shaped pool to the right of the statue. The stone beneath him should have been hard and cold, but instead felt like a sun-warmed cushion. As instructed by Archpriest Devore, Thaddis took deep breaths of the citrusy-scented air.

  What is Guinheld going to do to me?

  All the Gods and Goddesses had their own ways of reining in their people and punishing them for their sins. Besolet had been known to petulantly slap any who didn’t immediately acquiesce to Her demands, and Yadarius’s well-known scolds were enough to keep most of His people behaving. He’d only heard rumors of Guinheld’s cleansing, but he knew people were never the same after they’d completed the ritual.

  Does it really matter? No torment the Goddess put him through could equal what he’d done to the people of Seagem…or for that matter, to his own people.

  Devore leaned over him. The Archpriest had tied his white hair in a tail. The expression on the man’s narrow face didn’t change, but his silver eyes gave Thaddis an assessing look. “Remember to breathe throughout the procedure. That will make the process easier on you.”

  Thaddis gave Devore a faint nod of understanding before closing his eyes. He could hear the Archpriest’s soft footsteps pad across the room.

  Around him, Thaddis could feel the presence of the Goddess. Her essence pressed against his skin, then began seeping into his body—a very different approach from Ontarem’s initial excruciating grab for his mind. He didn’t know whether to relax, or brace for a painful takeover once he’d lowered his guard. As he became one with the Goddess, Thaddis gradually let go of his fear.

  With a shift of time, Guinheld returned him to his childhood, and he found himself in a boy’s body. Even though he was the crown prince, he didn’t get away with much. His nanny was strict, but loving, and his parents wanted him raised as normally as possible, although they spoiled him somewhat. Still, Guinheld had him relive the various childhood indiscretions he’d committed, starting with the pastry he’d swiped from a dessert table during a reception, after his nanny had forbidden him to have one. Thaddis had the impression Guinheld weighed each escapade, but for the most part she seemed to consider them boyish antics.

  Guinheld lingered at the dark time when his mother died—the shock and pain of her loss. The occasions he’d gone to his father needing a hug and comfort, and the king had turned away… He’d been so sad and lonely.

  By his mid-teens, Thaddis no longer had a nanny, and his father remained stricken with grief. Stevenes could barely cope with ruling his kingdom, much less overseeing his son. Thaddis develop a temper and usually had no reason, at least in Ocean’s Glory, to rein it in. The various tutors assigned to the prince were too afraid of offending the future king to force obedience.

  With the reins of guidance and discipline all but absent, except when he was fostering in Seagem, Thaddis began to take advantage of his appearance, wealth, and position to lord over everyone his own age and younger, and many older people too—at least, those not close to his father.

  Now, in seeing himself through Guinheld’s eyes, shame began to grow in his belly. Thaddis wanted to turn away from his younger self, from the harm he did to others by his arrogant indifference, the slights and hurts he caused each day through selfishness and entitlement, the hearts he’d broken. The more he made others hurt, no matter how unintentional, the more their pain lodged in his chest. Or was it his own regrets that grew so heavy
and hard to bear?

  It was your defects of character, Thaddis, which made you ripe to become Ontarem’s pawn, the Goddess told him in a dispassionate mental voice before plunging him back into his past.

  His bond of brotherhood with Indaran, Crown Prince of Seagem, played out—mostly scenes of companionship and camaraderie, but sometimes, he’d carried rivalry and competition too far.

  Both young princes vied for the attention of the same woman. Thaddis had won her affections and experienced a rush from defeating his opponent. But when the competition lagged, he’d cast the girl aside, never giving her another thought. He didn’t even remember her name.

  Now though, he watched her teetering on the edge of the cliff, pregnant with his child, a haunted look on her gaunt face, and knew she planned to jump. He called out to stop her, but she leaped anyway. His yell followed her flight all the way down until she landed in the ocean and sank, never to reappear.

  Shocked, shaking, Thaddis relived that scene several times until he stopped screaming when she jumped and instead fell to his knees on the edge of the cliff and begged her forgiveness.

  After that, when the scene replayed, he didn’t discard her. Instead, when he found she was pregnant, Thaddis asked her to marry him, even though he didn’t love her. Yet when they married, and their son was born, he found his feelings turning into warm affection, and realized they could, indeed, enjoy a comfortable, loving marriage.

  Relieved, Thaddis thought he’d passed that test, but instead, the Goddess flung him back into the scene several times. He began to get angry with Guinheld, growling a few choice curses at Her, to which She seemed impervious.

  Then the truth smacked him. This time, he refrained from engaging in the competition with Indaran. He let Seagem’s prince flirt with the girl. Nothing ended up happening between the two. Margary. Thaddis remembered her name now. A few years later, Margary happily married a baker and went on to bear seven children.

  Like a piece of flotsam drifting on the sea and tossed onto the beach by a wave, Thaddis emerged from Guinheld’s trance. He lay there on the cushion, gasping, sweat coating his body. Every muscle ached as if he’d been in sword bouts all day.

  Devore came to his side.

  “How long?” Thaddis croaked.

  “An hour and a half.”

  “So little time.” He tried to stretch his mouth into a wry smile. “It felt like forty years.”

  Devore leaned over him, studying his face.

  Thaddis could barely move his head to track him.

  The Archpriest handed Thaddis a glass and helped him sit.

  Gratefully, Thaddis gulped the honey-flavored water, drained the contents, and handed the glass back to Devore.

  The Archpriest eased him back down.

  “Can I ask you something?” Thaddis had a hard time getting the words out through the constriction in his throat.

  Devore nodded.

  “Margary…. She was really pregnant with my son? Jumped off the cliff?”

  Devore nodded again.

  “And the baker she married?”

  “What her future would have been if you’d been honorable and left her alone.”

  Thaddis closed his eyes. His son would have been…he counted back the years…nineteen now. Grief washed over him…for the child…for the mother…for what could have been. Tears leaked into his eyes and rolled down his face.

  For a long time, Devore left him alone in his sorrow. Then the Archpriest approached again. “You must continue, Thaddis.”

  Thaddis stiffened, bracing himself.

  Guinheld took him under, to the time when he sailed to Louat in search of Indaran.

  The next scenes, instead of playing out in ponderous detail, skipped like a stone across a pond. Perhaps even Guinheld couldn’t bear the contact with Ontarem that came from Thaddis’s memories.

  The years marched by, and the Goddess didn’t spare him any factor of his coldness, his cruelty, how he’d known, but did nothing to stop Pasinae from murdering his father so Thaddis could rule. Having Seagem’s royal family attend the funeral was a bonus in that the new king then made Daria his target. When he set sail for Seagem to propose, he had no doubt of his reception…until the princess rejected him.

  Thaddis braced himself. What lay ahead was even worse than his capture by Ontarem. He wanted to turn away from the relentless force that marched him through his memories. But as with his defeat, he had to face all the atrocities he’d committed while in the Evil God’s thrall.

  I don’t know if I can live through this.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “No, I’m not going!” Sadie said aloud in the middle of the crooked narrow street that led through what passed for a bazaar in this remote Middle-Eastern village. An energy, strange and compelling, continued to pull her away from her sightseeing toward the vast desert that lay to the west.

  She halted and looked around to see people lingering in doorways of mud-bricked houses to watch her, curiosity on their faces—or at least the faces of the men. She couldn’t quite tell about the expressions of the veiled, black-robed women. They’d probably never seen an American woman wearing jeans and a long-sleeved cotton shirt stop in the middle of the street—and talk to nobody in English.

  When she didn’t move, a woman standing behind the cloth-covered awning of a vegetable stand beckoned Sadie over to her, then lifted her hand in a sipping motion.

  Far from being greeted with the hostility she’d expected from watching the news on television or visiting in Israel, Sadie had been shown openheartedness and hospitality by many strangers, who seemed honored by the presence of an American in their out-of-the-way villages. From experience, she knew if she followed the woman who’d invited her, she’d be given thick coffee in tiny cups, or cool mint tea and perhaps dates.

  Over and over, Sadie had been touched by gestures of kindness she never would have expected. The last week had changed her perspective on humanity in a way she hoped she’d remember when she returned home in a few days.

  Sadie smiled a thank you, gave the woman a little bow, then pointed down the street, as if she had somewhere to go. Then she waved and started to walk against the pull of whatever energy had been tugging her in the opposite direction of her destination. She’d felt the lure ever since she’d had the strange dream the night her grandmother had died.

  Like I’m being summoned.

  Sadie shook her head but continued to walk, dodging around people who strolled or stopped to look at wares. “I’m headed to the airport. To America. Home,” she chanted under her breath. In the last days, she’d stated those sentences many times, apparently without affect.

  Zeesa, follow the call.

  The hairs on her arms stood up, and Sadie stepped into an empty alley. She stared at a worn mud brick wall, uncaring of the smell of urine and feces that wafted from the far corner.

  Did I just imagine hearing Bubby?

  Sadie touched the right pocket of her jeans where the medallion rested against her hip. She’d become accustomed to the small circle of warmth. But now the coin-sized object seemed to grow hotter. Uncomfortable, but not burning. Some kind of message?

  What if she stopped fighting the compulsion? After all, what did she have to go home to? Unlike previous summers, Sadie was finished with college and didn’t have to return for classes. The Olympic training camp didn’t start for another two weeks. She’d planned to be over her jetlag and focused on her training before camp started, but she could take another few days off.

  Follow. Her grandmother’s voice drifted on the wind. Or was it in her mind?

  Does it matter if she’s real or not?

  That decided her. If Bubby was mixed up in this, then she’d go along.

  For a few days.

  ~ ~ ~

  The four of them standing in the bow of the ship had fallen silent and stared ahead across the ocean toward Ontarem’s gray-shrouded land, each deep in his or her own thoughts. Finally, Daria pushed away from the shelter
of Khan’s arms. “Our plans are made. Soon enough we will confront the Evil one.” She smiled at Jasmine and gestured toward the stern of the ship. “Until then, I’d like to speak with my brother, and I’m sure you and Khan have plenty you wish to say to each other.”

  “Of course.” Jasmine’s smile didn’t quite banish the sudden sadness in her blue eyes.

  Daria remembered what her sister-in-law had endured—the rapes and beatings—at the hands of Khan’s half-brother. She knew how much Amir’s brutality had haunted Khan…his need to know if Jasmine was truly as well as she appeared. She only hoped the two friends would be able to talk about such a painful subject.

  Indaran gave Jasmine an assessing glance.

  His wife made a little shooing motion.

  Indaran extended a hand to Daria. “I know you’re not six any more to hold onto me as we walk. But can we just pretend for a few minutes?”

  Daria laughed, even though a sharp pain spiked through her heart for all they’d missed. She placed her hand in his. “Let’s head to the stern.”

  Daria and Indaran turned as one. Together, they sauntered toward the rear of the ship, nodding at the sailors going about their duty and the soldiers from Ocean’s Glory and fighters from Seagem working out together. Overhead, the full sails sped them all too swiftly back into danger, making every moment of freedom precious.

  Daria gave Indaran some side-long glances, admiring his beloved profile, so like their father’s and their brother Cihkel’s. Familiar grief blocked her throat. Go away, she told her sadness. Indaran is here. He lives. You haven’t lost your whole family as you believed.

  She concentrated on enjoying the feel of her brother’s hand in hers, savoring these moments of peace. Daria could almost imagine being a little girl again, when her world was safe and her family complete, except now instead of her being waist-high to Indaran, her eye-level topped her big brother’s shoulder. “As Ontarem’s prisoner, was your mind as frozen as your body?”

  “No. My mind was free, although Ontarem mangled my memories.” Indaran stared straight ahead.