“Spirits in the sky, that’s a long walk for these old legs. You young folks don’t mind at all, I’m sure,” she said as she fitted the key into the lock, and opened the door to the apartment.
“It’s even furnished,” she added in a cheery tone as the four visitors entered the apartment.
It was furnished in a minimal way. There was a table and three chairs in the room they entered. Two other rooms had a bed each, and the back room had a row of large windows that looked upon a tiny courtyard below, with light gray curtains pulled open. There was little else.
“How much would you charge for this apartment for a week?” Grange asked.
“I won’t rent it to you for less than a month,” she stated matter-of-factly. “And I’ll have to see your marriage certificate; it’s a local rental law that people under twenty five have to be married to live together. Just one couple has to be married,” she added helpfully.
Grange and Garrel looked at one another, stunned.
“If none of us are married, we can’t have this apartment?” Garrel asked.
“That’s right. Though, as you know, there’s a temple down the street where the priestess performs weddings,” the prospective landlord said helpfully.
“I’ll make the rent ten brass florins a month,” she threw a number into the air, apparently warming to the idea of having paying tenants in the space.
“It’s a nice space,” Deana said.
“We should go back downstairs and talk about it,” Ariana seemed unwilling to make the commitment to the rooms.
“Yes, let’s go downstairs,” Grange agreed with her.
“We’ll be back in a little while,” Ariana told the dress shop owner, who looked disappointed by their departure.
“Will we really go back in a little while?” Grange asked the girl when they were out of the building and standing back in front of the shop.
“Of course. You want to buy that blue dress for me, remember?” she gave him a warm and engaging smile that was different from her usual friendly mien, making his heart pound faster.
No, that’s impermissible, someone said behind him, but he ignored the comment.
Garrel and Deana were holding a low, intense conversation of their own.
“We’d go back to the village in the spring for the real ceremony?” Deana was asking. “This would just be for the sake of the apartment?”
“Exactly,” Garrel confirmed.
“We’ll go to the temple and get married,” he turned and announced to his friends.
“Really?” Grange asked in astonishment. “Really, truly married?”
“Not so truly,” Deana answered. “We’ll go back to High Meadow for the real ceremony in the spring, so my parents can see.”
“The temple’s down that way?” Garrel tried to recollect the direction the land lady had indicated, and the group lurch forward, his fingers and Deana’s tightly intertwined as they walked hand-in-hand.
Only half a block brought them in sight of an imposing structure, one that Grange was convinced was a temple.
“We’d like to get married,” Garrel told the first man he saw in the lobby.
“Go tell the priestess,” said the man, who turned out to be another visitor, uninterested in being helpful.
A woman in a long white gown, with a veil over her hair was passing nearby, and Grange stepped over to intercept her.
“May my friends get married here?” he asked the priestess, motioning towards Garrel and Deana, behind him.
“They’re very young, but so are you,” the lady said, stopping to survey the group. “Do you have your parents’ permission?”
“We’re very far away from our parents,” Garrel answered, stepping closer to the priestess.
“Have you been in counseling with any particular priestess regarding the duties and responsibilities of marriage?” she asked, as she motioned for Deana to step closer.
“We just got to town. We haven’t talked to anyone,” Garrel answered.
“And you want to be married soon?” the woman asked, as her eyes shifted from one to the other.
“Today?” Deana asked in a small voice.
“Really? Today? Is there reason for this rush?” the woman asked intently.
“We, um, are in love. We’ve come a long way from the mountains, and we’re ready,” Garrel answered carefully, realizing that there wasn’t going to necessarily be a simple walk into a marriage ceremony.
“Come with me, all of you,” the priestess said. She motioned for them all, as she turned and strolled through a curtained doorway.
On the other side of the curtain was a dim hallway, and the group strolled single file for twenty feet, until she knocked on a door, then opened it following a muffled response from the inside.
Their guide motioned for the four visitors to enter the room, which surprised Grange by being a bright and open office, one with light that streamed in through long, narrow windows up near the ceiling – light that reflected off the many white surfaces in the room, maintaining a highly visible environment in the room.
“Mother Brooke, these pilgrims have come to our temple seeking to be united in holy matrimony,” their guide reported to a woman who sat behind a desk. The woman was older, more than old enough to be the parent of any of the four travelers, and her short hair was flecked with gray among its wiry black strands.
“Which ones, Zena? The pale one from Southgar?” she asked, with a glance at Grange.
“No, not him, or perhaps him too, though he hasn’t said so,” Zena replied. She paused to unclasp the ribbon under her chin, and pulled her head scarf off, letting her hair unfold down the back of her neck.
“It’s specifically these two,” the priestess placed hands on the shoulders of Deana and Garrel.
“And what about you and your inamorata, son of Southgar?” the woman at the desk asked, as her eyes flicked to Ariana. “Do you seek to be married as well?”
No, no, no! Grange heard the jewels speak clearly, emphatically in his consciousness, and his eyes widened in astonishment.
Ariana reached over suddenly and grasped his hand, squeezing it tightly.
“No, my lady, Grange and I do not seek to be married at this moment,” she answered.
“What we’ll have will be much deeper,” she said it with a smile, as though she were joking, but there was an intensity in her eyes that unsettled Grange. “You’ll understand soon enough,” she told him as she turned to look at him.
The others in the room looked at her strangely, unsettled by her unusual answer. Grange stared at her vacantly, concerned not just by her answer, but by the vehement arousal of the jewels, speaking to him for the first time since the battle with the demon in the forest, at the very beginning of the apple-harvesting adventure.
“Why don’t I take the two of you out into the temple, while Mother Brooke talks with your two friends?” Zena suggested. She pushed the door to the office open, and led Grange and Ariana out of the room, as Garrel and Deana watched them go. Grange caught a glance of Garrel’s face, and thought his friend look trapped.
He grinned as he followed Zena along the hall, while the woman used both hands to restore her head scarf to its position on her head, her hair pushed up beneath it.
She swung to the right, and led them into a vast open space, a dim sanctuary with multiple statutes of women positioned along the walls. Some of the statutes were inspiring female figures, hands raised in benediction or triumph, while other, smaller statutes showed women doing household chores – cooking food, rocking babies, churning butter.
“Whose temple is this, anyway?” Grange heard the question escape his lips. He had begun to wonder what deity they were calling upon, but he thought it was rude to admit that the group of travelers had entered a temple without knowing or caring which god or goddess was worshipped there.
Zena apparently shared his opinion, as she turned and stared at him incredulously. “You don’t know which god’s temple you walked i
nto?” she asked in a chilly voice.
“That’s not what he meant,” Ariana immediately answered. “Of course he knows this is the temple of the good goddess Miriam.
“You just meant to ask who the prominent worshippers are who attend this temple, didn’t you?” Ariana provided an excuse for his ignorance. “Since we’re new in the city, we don’t know.”
“Ah,” Zena relaxed. “I misunderstood,” she said. “We have several prominent noble families that attend here to present offerings to Miriam, although I doubt you’d recognize their names. Duchess Chatham, the Countess Arch, the Lord Cobble,” she rattled through the names, as Ariana shook her head negatively.
“Thank you for telling us,” Grange said. “I was just curious.”
“I’ll leave you here for a little while, if you don’t mind,” Zena said. “I have an errand to perform. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She walked away without awaiting a response, leaving Grange and Ariana standing in the back of the dim space.
Grange was relieved. He wanted some quiet time to speak to the jewels, to find out why they had protested the notion of his marriage to Ariana, and he wanted to know why they had been so quiet for so long.
“Let’s sit down and rest,” he suggested, looking at a set of benches that were empty, offering a perfect quiet spot to query the jewels.
“We don’t have time,” Ariana said. She grabbed his hand and forcefully pulled him after herself as she broke into a determined gait, walking rapidly towards an alcove with a statute of a woman comforting two small children who were clinging to her skirts.
“Where are we going?” Grange asked, taken aback by the sudden activity.
“There’s something we have to do,” she didn’t explain, as they entered the alcove alone, with no worshippers present.
“Let me see your hand,” Ariana demanded as she released her hold on him. She was pulling her sword out from within her skirts, where she had hidden it so artfully that Grange hadn’t even been aware that she had it with her.
As her right hand held the sword, her left hand grabbed his right hand, opened the palm face up, and then she shocked him by lightly slicing the blade across his exposed palm, causing his blood to well forth.
“Ow!” he shouted. “You did that on purpose! What are you doing?”
She released his hand, then calmly sliced her own palm as well.
“Give me,” she held her bloody hand out, shaking it in a demand for his matching hand.
“What? No! Why?” Grange was nothing but shocked monosyllables.
Ariana was moving with determined urgency. She reached over and grasped his hand with a rock-hard grip, then placed the sword in their blood-slickened hands.
“Hear us, Miriam, goddess of peace and tranquility, protector of the home and the innocents within. The time is coming,” Ariana spoke in a deep voice, and the jewels began to murmur and hum within Grange’s soul.
“We beseech you to consecrate this weapon, doused in our blood, to help fight the forces of darkness that are coming. The battle will begin, and we need weapons with the sacred blessings. Please Miriam, provide your touch to allow us to overcome the darkness,” Ariana spoke with a stilted formality that held a compelling power of its own.
Her hand raised his and sword, pointing them towards the statute.
“Ariana, what are you doing?” Grange felt confused and disturbed by the inexplicable behavior of the girl he had been constant companion to for a month. He thought he knew and understood her, but her action was completely incomprehensible.
Then, to his astonishment, the statute’s chest began to glow, a bright red color shining forth directly over the location of a living woman’s breast.
“Touch the blade to my heart,” the statue spoke to them, its cast bronze feature mobile and alive as its lips moved.
Grange felt a moment of faintness, disbelief at what he was seeing, but Ariana’s grip on his hand and the sword pulled him forward. The tip of the blade approached the statue, coming within inches of the surface, when a spark jumped through the air, an arcing, sizzling transfer of energy that made the entire sword glow. The bright power coursed down the sword to the handle, then ran up Grange’s arm and struck the four stones there, making them all come alive with energy. The stones began to sing a harmonic chorus, and as she heard them, Ariana raised her voice as well, blending in with the jewels flawlessly.
At the same time she pressed the sword closer to the statue, narrowing the gap and reducing the power arc, until the sword tip touched the actual statue on the breast – metal on metal. The sword gave one great pulsing glow, then the power receded, and the song of the jewels ceased. Ariana pulled the sword slowly away from the statue, and held it directly in front of the faces of the two of them.
“We have sent one of our own to live on the land now, among the mortals, because we can see that the next turn of the calendar is coming. We must have a suitable human to join and lead the battle,” a deep, melodic voice issued from the bronze lips of Miriam.
“You have chosen this one to fight the battles?” the statue asked.
“He can do it. He has the potential. He was born at the right time, and his heart is good,” Ariana said defensively. “The Spirit tapped him, and I agree.”
“So much depends on your judgment,” the statue asserted.
“Rely on your friends and allies, boy,” the statue turned and spoke to him. “Being a champion will bring many challenges, and much pain. There will be despair and fear and confusion. You have very much to learn.
“My young friend, there will be the reward of a good heart, and though few will know of your victories, if you achieve them, the whole world will share in the good fortune. And you will find warmth where the world thinks there is only a heart of coldness.
“But,” the statue turned even more somber, “the path to success will be narrow, difficult, and hard to predict. Do not take up this challenge if you do not believe you can carry it out to the end.”
The metal figure returned to its original position. Ariana lowered the sword, which ceased to glow, as did the statue.
“Oh gods,” Grange said weakly. “What was that? Who are you Ariana?”
The girl stared at him intently, then blinked her eyes rapidly, as her head momentarily twitched.
“What happened?” she asked.
“My father’s sword!” she exclaimed, raising the weapon, both their hands still holding it. “What is it doing out? Why are we holding it?”
“We just, you know,” Grange sputtered. “We just consecrated it. The goddess’s statue came to life and put energy into it. Look at how its blade turned blue!” he exclaimed.
“It is blue,” she agreed, twisting the sword slowly to look at it from all sides. Grange reluctantly released his grip on the sword handle, and Ariana carefully slid it back into her waistband, inside her skirt. “How did it happen? I don’t remember anything from the time we came into the sanctuary,” she said.
“You made us come over here, then you cut our hands,” Grange held his palm out to expose the bloody slice, only to stare in wonder as his palm appeared whole and uncut.
“What kind of cuts?” Ariana asked.
Grange grabbed her hand and pried the fingers open, then looked at the undamaged skin of her palm.
“They were cut and bloody,” he said slowly. “Then the statue came alive and the energy flowed and it spoke – you answered it. The two of you were talking about me.”
“I was talking to a statue, about you? This statue?” she asked, unconvinced.
“There you two are,” Zena, their priestess guide, came looking for them, interrupting the conversation.
“Mother Brooke has agreed to perform the marriage ceremony for your friends. I’ve been looking for you so we can take you to the ceremony. Hurry along now,” she motioned to them to follow her as she turned and left the alcove, heading towards a doorway on the other side of the sanctuary.
“Let’s go Grange. We can
talk about this later,” Ariana said. She reached out and grabbed his hand, then hauled him after Zena, who was crossing the room at a great pace.
“Later?” he uttered as he began to trot. “There was a goddess just talking to you – about me! We need to talk about that,” he insisted in a raised voice.
“Apparently you were there. You know what happened. You figure it out, and quiet down,” Ariana said, shushing Grange as heads of the worshippers in the temple rose to look at them.
Grange bit his lip and followed along in silence.
The conversation with the statue was astonishing. Did you hear all that? Was that you, working through Ariana? He directed the questions inward towards the jewels.
There was no answer, only silence in the part of his soul where the jewels conversed.
Zena opened a door and went up a narrow flight of stairs, with Ariana and Grange close behind. They climbed two long flights, then entered a hallway, walked quickly to a door and found themselves on a small deck, looking at the blue sky overhead, a small courtyard garden below, and the blue-gray waters of the harbor not far away.
Mother Brooke stood with Deana and Garrel on either side of her, holding hands with each as they faced the doorway that Zena and her followers emerged from.
Garrel’s face brightened with a smile of relief as he saw Grange arrive. He appeared pale-faced, his usual tan complexion slightly gray as he stood in the opening moments of his wedding.
“You two should go stand by your friends and hold their hands,” Zena instructed, placing a hand on Ariana’s back to gently prompt the new arrivals forward.
“Now that we’re all gathered, let us begin,” Brooke said.
“Miriam is the goddess of domestic tranquility. She preserves peace and comfort in the home, and stands by, ready to help those who seek to make a house a place where a family can grow and live in comfort,” Brooke stated.
“Now these two come to us today, ready to form a family, to take the first steps towards creating their own home where they can settle down and begin their lifetime journey together,” she continued.
Grange stopped listening, as his mind wandered back to the supernatural conversation that had occurred in the temple alcove below. The statue had called him a ‘champion’ and had warned of a difficult road ahead. It had mentioned pain, and a cold heart awaiting him. There were few prospects in the forecast that pleased him. He thought back to the last time the jewels had engaged in a lengthy conversation, just after the fight in the forest with the demon that had possessed Breeze. The jewels had told him that he was a unique person, able to see the demons and the darkness.
The Elemental Jewels (Book 1) Page 17
