by Gwynn White
No one got much sleep that night. Riesa spent the night alternating between tears at fond memories, and anger at the Goddess. Christol tired the flea-filled straw mattress for an hour or so, then gave up. However, the floor with all the bed-banging thumping from below didn't make a very comfortable mattress. He gave up and sat with Riesa sharing stories and tears throughout the night. Ellora stared at them without seeing her friends. Her gaze was inward, and only she and the Goddess knew what she thought or saw.
Jogli had slept in worse conditions, and snored until daylight, breaking through the smudged and dirty windows, landed on his face. Its warmth woke him immediately. He could no longer see, but the keen senses of smell and hearing that helped him survive in the gutters told him within seconds that the others were awake. He lay still letting his magic surround them. He could sense the pain and grief from Christol and Riesa. When his magic touched Ellora, he knew by the power flowing from her spirit that the Goddess sat in the corner chair. Her mistress had consumed Ellora, once again. His mystical assessments were verified when she spoke.
"We go now through the catacombs. The dragons await." The iron coldness and determination in her voice sent shivers down Riesa's spine and the hair on Christol's neck and arms stood straight out as if he had been too close to a lightening strike. Jogli, who'd expected this, kept up the pretense of sleep.
Ellora's head turned without any conscious participation. Her actions mirrored those of a marionette controlled by another, foreign master. Her eyes held none of the love she felt for Christol. Her hazel eyes, which sparkled with green when excited, were as devoid of color as dried mud. Christol couldn't contain the shudder he felt when he looked into those eyes.
"Christol, you are needed. You will come with me."
Once again, the puppeteer controlled her movements and she turned her head toward Jogli.
"Jogli you will come with us, you are needed.
The Goddess turned Ellora's head at last to her best friend, trusted confidante, and priestess in training.
"Riesa you will stay here, you are not needed."
Her head fell to her chest, and when she looked up, Ellora gazed at the shocked faces of her friends and knew the Goddess had overtaken her again. Seeing the devastation on Riesa's face and the agony in Christol's eyes, Ellora reached the end of her reserves. She covered her face with her hands, and bent over as if in pain, she wept.
Inconsolable, no one came to her except Jogli. He wrapped an arm around her and started murmuring softly in her ear. With his words, her sobbing yielded to his whispered consolations. Her heart consenting to her place in the Goddess's plans, for now. With the same, slow steadiness of a snowman melting in the spring sun, her heart thawed but not her determination.
Looking up at her friends, her tears began again as she said, "Please forgive me for the things she made me say, and for the things she will make me do in the future." Her tears began flowing steadily again, but not the sobbing. "I cannot guarantee your safety or your survival. What she asks is both foolish and dangerous." She sighed deeply, "I have no choice, I must do as she commands, and so must all of you. She will make me use my magic to make sure it happens."
"Riesa…" she did start sobbing, but bottled them the same way you would put a cork in a flask of ale." The Goddess may not need you, but I do, and on this, I will defy her. I want you with me. Please come," she paused, "that is if you want to."
Riesa ran across the room, nearly tripping over the ratty, braided rug, in her hurry to reach her friend. Wrapping her in arms around Ellora, she said, "Of course I am coming, I planned on following you anyway. The Goddess is not going to keep me away from my best friend when she needs me. Besides anything has to be better than staying another night in this room."
Christol and Jogli each managed a good laugh; Ellora could only muster up a halfhearted smile. "I am not done with this Goddess. Jogli and I will be free. If I can't get Maura to help us. I will go to the depths of Charonyde and bargain with Athgaard himself. One way or another, I will be free."
Chapter Fifteen
Ellora did not want to do this. Yet, her feet moved with their own volition down the path to the dragons's home. They'd stabled their horses in the only stable in town, and from its cleanliness they all surmised they would have slept better there than in the town's grungy, dilapidated inn. Christol handed the stable owner a gold coin, and assured him there would be another if they found their horses in good shape upon their return. The man, used to being paid in copper change for a night's stabling, assured Christol that his horses would be there and would receive the best care he could give them. Satisfied, the party started toward the catacombs, Ellora fighting the Goddess's control with every footfall.
"This isn't right," she grumbled. "The dragons have no part of human problems. They never bother us unless we bother them first. They even hunt well away from our grazing lands on the Plains of Argellon. Why is she forcing the dragons into this fight?"
Christol hesitated before answering because he knew Ellora wouldn't like the answer. "Because no one else possesses enough magic to stop Vail."
As he predicted Ellora didn't handle the answer with good grace. She kicked a stone, stubbed her toe, and flamed the errant stone to ashes.
"Ellora…"
"What? Whose side are you on anyway?"
"Ellora, you know that's unfair, and you know I love you more than anything on Mithlonde. But, Vail has to be stopped. He would enslave the dragons and use them to attack innocent people and whole villages. Do you really want that?"
Her sigh was audible even to Riesa and Jogli who brought up the rear. "There should be some other way than involving the dragons. They are peaceful creatures who mind their own business. The Goddess should be able to stop Vail."
It was Christol's turn to sigh. "From what I have seen of the Goddess and her methods lately, I am not at all sure she is who you think she is."
"I think your assessment is correct," Riesa said from behind the pair. "I felt her magic briefly when I assumed the High Priestess roll, and it wasn't at all what I expected it to be. I think even Jogli is more powerful than the Goddess."
Jogli snorted, but otherwise said nothing, listening and learning as much as he could. If I am stronger than the Goddess then…NO! He quashed that line of thinking pounding it to nothing the way one would a stinger wasp. All he wanted only to be free of magic, to see again, to settled down with a wife, and have children. A simple life, free of all magical complications and responsibilities. The only responsibilities he wanted were to his future family.
Maura placed the gold coin in the stable keeper's palm and watched as greed lit up his eyes. A second later, Maura smiled as the golden coin worked its magic on the man. His eyes dulled and he asked, "What are your wishes, Mistress?"
"I want the last stall in the back where it is dark. Make sure you clean the stall daily and put down fresh straw. Make sure Billy get's fresh hay morning and night. I will be staying with him. Do not allow anyone to stable their horses next to Billy. I am not here, you have not seen me, nor will you see me. I am invisible to your eyes. Simply care for Billy, and remember the gold you have been paid."
The stable keeper nodded his palm still open. Maura snatched the charmed gold from his hand and shoved it deep into a pocket in her tattered skirts. Hitching her haversack, containing the few necessitates she needed to live on; she guided her mule toward the last stall. She cooed to him for a minute and then set a magical dome over them. Once it was in place, she relaxed knowing that no one would be able to breach her wards or ascertain her presence. She talked softly to the mule as she unsaddled him and brushed him with gentle but through strokes. Removing all the tangles and burrs in his coat collected on their long trip. Her haversack lay in the back corner, and once she finished grooming Billy, she dug through it until she found an old apple. Digging into one of her many skirt pockets, she pulled out a knife, cut the apple in half, giving Billy the larger piece and settling down in the corne
r with the rest. A satisfied smile wrinkled the wrinkles on her face making her look somewhat like the dried out old apple she was eating. She didn't care however. She was content. The players were in place, she had all the time in the world to wait for the coming drama, and its aftermath, which she believed, would prove most beneficial to her designs for Mithlonde.
They have entered the catacombs. The Brood Queen Abeata mindspoke to her mate the Dragon King Jespar.
Is the High Priestess with the group?
She is, but I sense discontent. The seeds of doubt are growing in this one.
This is a very good thing. We must make sure to water them well. Jespar nodded, his rainbow colored scales glinting in the sunlight streaming through a hole in the roof of the cavern.
We will do our best. His queen answered, nodding her head in submission to her king, and if anything she was even more beautiful than her mate. Every scale held a luminescence similar to the inside of sea steak shell. One whose meat was tender enough and large enough to feed a family of four for two days. The luminesce spread to the rainbow colors of each scale, some scales being solid green, red, blue, orange, yellow, gold or silver. While some scales were a rainbow within themselves. When she moved even a fraction, she cast prisms of multi-colored light on the walls much to the delight of her brood who tried to run and catch the rainbows before she moved again.
I sense worry in your tone. Her mate commented.
Indeed.
Why?
I sense another source of magic in Thonevrond.
Oh?
I cannot identify the source. It is cloaked with a ward, but the magic is there and it is powerful.
Maura?
We knew she was coming.
Indeed, but her purpose is not clear. She can do much harm not only to us, but to the humans as well.
Jespar nodded, but the dragon king's prisms were not as bright and as captivating as those of his mate. We will not tangle with that one. We will wait and see what she has planned. Unfortunately, her wards keep us from reading her thoughts. We must wait for her to make the first move. However, we can watch. Send a youngling to the source. Make sure he stays unseen and does not confront her. We do not need a disturbance with her right now. We cannot fight on two fronts.
Yes, milord nodded Abeata in a whirl of color and worry.
Vail's guards watched the wizard rub his upper lip. They stood ridge as tress in a forest, but just the same, they waited for the storm to come and blow them down. They knew his thoughts were on revenge, and their eyes shifted from one to another without moving a muscle. They all knew the fortress on the edge of the Draekhen Mountains and the outskirts of Thonevrond was Vail's least favorite abode. In fact, he hated it. Carved from the stone of the mountains, drafts blew through the cracks, and when the thunder shook the mountains, it rained stones down on the fortress. They also knew the wizard only came here when he expected a fight.
Vail continued to stroke his upper lip, his thoughts running along the same lines as his guards. He sensed the presence of the High Priestess's magic and assumed she would ask the dragons for help. He smirked at the thought for he had a few surprises waiting for King Jespar and his Brood Queen. However, he also sensed a magic he couldn't identify. Wild and strong, it permeated everything with a darkness similar to his own magic. Yet, this magic reeked of blood, of unwilling sacrifice - human sacrifice, and for the first time Wizard Vail felt afraid.
The small band of would be wizard slayers wander through the Catacombs of Porthca following the Goddess's instructions. If Ellora existed within her body there appeared no sign of her personality, her compassion or her empathy. When she said, "Turn here," they turned. "Stop and rest here," they stopped. No one dared protest or disobey. They had seen the Goddess's lightening bolts blast tall oaks to splinters, and they had no desire to be on the receiving end of one of them. Christol followed behind her with Jogli tied to his waist. None of them wanted to be responsible for the blind man becoming lost in the underground tunnels. Ellora commanded Riesa to bring up the rear. However, no one could have imagined what they found deep with the heart of the Draekhen Mountains where the catacombs lay.
Every turning brought a new surprise and a new sense of wonder for the catacombs were not merely underground tunnels leading every downward. They rose and fell like the tides of the sea. At times, they climbed to mountaintops giving them a magnificent view of Mithlonde, as they had never seen it. The small town of Thonevrond appeared as small as a child's dollhouse, and even its dirty, cluttered and dusty streets looked clean from the heights they reached. Other times, they would dip under Mithlonde to fond fresh water, chilled from the mountain snows gurgling and bubbling in clean, fresh streams. Spiraling rock formations formed strange turrets and peaks along the sides of the streams. Then, they would walk out into an open meadow where flowers they've never seen bloomed in a rollicking array of color. They blanketed the fields like a multi-colored rag rug in front of a hearth, and held the same temptation to lay down and rest.
These were the occasions when Christol and Riesa could see from Ellora's face how hard she fought the Goddess's control. Her eyes would snap front, clear and seek out Christol's. Her mouth would whisper, "Release me," with such longing Christol would have to look away so she would not see his tears. And her hands…her hands would turn white as she twisted her gown into knots. Gripping and tearing at it as if were prison bars. "Jogli, isn't there anything you can do to help her?" Christol would ask. And each time he did, Jogli only shook his head, and did not even try to hide his tears.
Riesa suffered the most during these occasions. Not only had she lost her fiancé on this trip, she knew she was slowly losing her best friend as well. Her tears flowed freely both for her lost love, and from the guilt she still bore from not being able to handle the Goddess's magic when Ellora had passed it to her. With the guilt came the "what if" questions. What if I could have commanded the magic, would Stephye still be alive? Would Ellora be home safe? I know she would not be suffering the way she is now. Why was I so weak? Why did the Goddess pick Ellora instead of me all those years ago? What if I had received all that training, would I have been able to wield the magic, then? Would any of this had happen if the Goddess had chosen me instead?
Even as the questions spun round and round in her head like children on a Maypole, Riesa knew, there could be no way to know their answers. Yet, knowing that her questions were unanswerable did not help her grief. It only made it worse. She carried her grief the way one would a heavy haversack, back bent over under its weight, eyes on the floor, watching her tears dampen the dusty path. Christol carried the burden of helping Ellora and Jogli, and Riesa refused to add to it. She held her grief in, not speaking and not looking at anyone. Only her tears gave evidence to the grief she carried. Jogli could not see them, Christol had other responsibilities, so they remained unseen, and that more than anything else hurt the most. She was alone. For the first time in her life, she felt completely and thoroughly alone.
However, she wasn't the only one feeling alone on this quest. Deep inside, Ellora felt as isolated as a plague victim. Shut away, alone, ostracized. She could hear Christol, but couldn't respond. She saw Riesa's tears, and her heart broke because of her friend's pain. Yet, she could do nothing for either of them. Jogli, also added to the cracks in her broken heart when she saw him tied to Christol, and she wondered once again what kind of Goddess she served. She certainly wasn't the Goddess they trained her to serve. There did not appear to be anything loving and kind about her. She seemed only cruel, demanding and determined to get her way no matter the cost in human lives or even the lives of the creatures she supposedly created. At this point, Ellora questioned everything she'd learned and could not tell fact from fiction. The one thing she knew to be true was that she would be free from her bondage to this entity or she would die trying.
* * *
Ragden, how is your mission proceeding?
All is well milord. They should be arriving s
ometime this afternoon.
The dragon king nodded his approval, and asked, And you have not been seen, the Goddess does not know of your excursions?
The younger dragon bowed his glittering head before his king, and his thought-spoke, I have not been seen and I have seen no evidence that the Goddess is aware of my presence.
Abeata, the Brood Queen mind-spoke next. You did well on your last mission. My mate and she rolled her multi-colored eyes toward Jespar, thought that at only one hundred years of age you were too young for such an important mission. She curled back her top lip to show her fangs in a dragon smile. You proved him wrong and yourself more than capable of handling the responsibilities of such an important mission. Were you seriously injured?
Ragden bowed his head toward his queen smiling at the praise and concern she showed for him. Nothing that did not heal quickly, and Maura never discovered our gift of invisibility or the fact that I could have freed myself at anytime.
Well done, you are to be commended by our people for you bravery and service to them. King Jespar said.
The young dragon flushed, his scales glowing crimson, under such praise from his king. Thank you milord. I only did what was required.
The king's fangs shown through his pleased smile. You may go, Ragden. Keep watching them and make sure they don't stray into forbidden areas.
Yes, Lord. Thank you. I will do as you say.
Chapter Sixteen
Under the Goddess's guidance, the small group traveled in a steady downward pace. Shins and calves began to ache from the steady pressure, and they'd left the last alpine meadow behind many candle marks ago.
However, the cavern was not cold and damp. Rather, the deeper they went the warmer it got. This intrigued Christol and he found himself wondering about the source of the heat.
