The watery figure was moving his hands, he realized. The two cuffed wrists were moving to either side of Coriae’s head. The shining metal cuffs clamped against Coriae’s temples firmly.
“Channel your energy through the cuffs,” Currense’s liquid lips were so close to Theus’s neck that he felt a soft, cool mist as she spoke.
“What spell should I use?” he asked.
“No spell. Don’t think about the things you’ve memorized. Think about a healthy Coriae, and the energy that you know she holds as her own person,” Currense instructed. “Think of that and cause the release of your energy,” the goddess said.
Theus closed his eyes, and imagined Coriae as he had seen her since their reunion in Stoke. He recollected the fierce joy she displayed during their matches with swords and staves, and he thought of her bravery when faced with threats of being arrested or held in prison. He saw the images of her face when the two of them had tenderly spoken to and touched one another.
He searched for his own energy, fighting the distraction of his painful leg injury, and found it residing within himself, diminished by the battle he had fought against Donal. He pulled it vigorously, demanding that it respond, and then released it, letting it channel through his metallic wrist cuffs as Currense commanded.
The cuffs flared into incandescence, glowing brightly as they received his energy. In some fashion he didn’t understand, the cuffs seemed to cycle and whirl his power, making it grow stronger amid the tumultuous treatment the cuffs delivered. The energy emerged from his ornaments, stronger than it had been when he had released it through the cuffs.
The unconscious Coriae softly squealed a murmured cry.
“Now,” Currense’s hands guided his, “continue to release the energy, and move your hands here,” she pulled his hands along Coriae’s cheeks, then her neck, upon her collarbone, and then stopped atop her breasts. “More, release more power within her,” the goddess softly ordered, as she held his hands in place, firmly pressed down upon the soft flesh.
“Now, move with me once more,” she spoke as her fingers guided his hands once again, making his glowing wrists trace a path upon her stomach, and then pulling apart from one another to sandwich her hips.
“This now is the final pressure,” Currense told Theus. “Stay firm and do not cease, regardless of what happens.”
Theus listened, confused by the warning, but he continued to administer his energy to Coriae. Moments ticked past, and then suddenly Coriae began to scream.
“My lady?” Theus asked.
“Maintain your energy,” Currense said firmly. “Do it for her. Do not relent.”
“But,” Theus wanted to protest.
“Curse you!” the voice that spoke from Coriae’s mouth was a deep growl. A cloud of darkness suddenly rose from the whole of the girl’s body, and coalesced in the air several feet above her, as Theus watched in open-mouthed horror.
“Now, swing your cuffs up and clash them in the middle of the evil!” Currense released her hands from Theus.
He swung his hands upward, removing them from Coriae, and as he did, a sizzling arc formed between them. Theus carried the momentum of his hands upward, so that they rose above his head and entered the dark silhouette that hovered above the girl. Theus didn’t hesitate any longer; he was frightened by the appearance of the evil shape, and determined to follow his goddess’s command.
His two wrists approached one another, and as they did, the arcing, sizzling bridge of energy between them grew brighter and louder. When Theus felt his wrists strike one another, there was a bright flash, a loud explosion, and Theus felt himself propelled backwards.
He landed on his back in the shallow water, and sputtered as the surface closed just inches above his head, before he pushed himself up into a sitting position.
Coriae was sitting up in the basin, just as he was; her eyes were blinking rapidly. A gritty slick of black dust sat upon the surface of the water, all that remained of the dark cloud Theus had exorcised from Coriae, while the currents of the fountain’s flow carried the debris away to the outflow.
And the figure of Currense still stood nearby.
Theus awkwardly rose and stumbled through the water to Coriae’s side, then knelt beside her.
“How do you feel?” he asked. Her clothing was soaked, and clung to her body.
“Where are we Theus? How did we get here?” she asked. She put her arms up around his neck to cling to him in fear.
“You are in my temple,” Currense was suddenly standing over the wounded pair. “You were possessed by an evil spirit, inflicted upon you by Donal, the acolyte of Ind’Petro. Theus used his powers to drive the spirit from you, and then to destroy it.
“You will be safe now,” the goddess assured Coriae as the girl looked up at her in astonishment, her arms tightening their grasp around Theus’s neck.
“Alsman,” Currense spoke loudly, in a booming voice.
“Yes, your worship?” the priest called from where he knelt at the edge of the basin. Theus looked over, and saw a large crowd of witnesses all kneeling in the presence of the divinity.
“Take this girl back to your palace and keep her comfortable and safe. I must take Theus with me to heal him of his wound immediately. He will return when he can,” the goddess spoke. “Come with me, Theus,” she motioned with a wave of her hand as she started to glide away.
“Where are you going Theus?” Coriae asked in alarm.
“I’ll go where the goddess wishes,” Theus replied. He looked down at the noblewoman, the girl who he knew he had loved once before.
He was in love with her again, he admitted to himself. The exercise of thinking about her, as directed by Currense, had made him realize that his short, strange reacquaintance with her had filled his soul with images and memories of her that were seductive, unforgettable, and enticing. She was the woman he loved. And he could admit it.
“When everything is over, I’ll come back to you. I love you,” he said tenderly. Her arms were around his neck, holding on to him, while his arms were beneath her, holding her up out of the water. Without another word, then each pulled themselves together and passionately kissed.
“Theus,” Currense’s voice called.
“I have to go,” Theus spoke to the girl, starting to end their embrace. “The goddess calls.”
“I love you too, Theus,” Coriae smiled and wept.
“Wait!” she said as they began to release each other. She plunged her hand down into the front of her blouse, and then pulled out a piece of jewelry on a chain.
It was a ring. Theus recognized it, without knowing why.
“Here, have this. Remember me, and come back to me soon,” she urgently twisted the chain and craned her neck to pull the necklace over her head, before she stuffed the chain and ring into Theus’s hand, and closed his fingers over it.
“Thank you Theus, thank you! I love you,” she told him.
“Come along, Theus,” Currense was yards away, at the foot of the falling water from her fountain.
Theus grasped the jewelry, kissed Coriae’s hand, then rose and stepped away, backing away so that he could continue to look at the girl from Great Forks. He slipped the chain with the ring over his neck as he walked and felt the water growing deeper, then he finally faced forward and splashed his way to the side of the goddess of the river that flowed just yards away from the exterior of the temple.
“Take my hand,” she told him, and he compliantly grasped the wet blue palm, feeling again the surging current of divinity that would overwhelm his human capacities if exposed unrestrained. “Now we step forward,” she directed; they stepped into the curtain of water, and disappeared from the sight of everyone in the temple, leaving a room full of astonished witnesses who gasped at the unexpected departure.
“Come back soon, my love,” Coriae spoke softly, as she stepped out of the fountain basin, and into the waiting arms of Alsman, who held a hastily-delivered towel wide to wrap around her and comfor
t her after the morning’s unexpected shocks.
Chapter 18
Theus stepped with the liquid figure of Currense through the curtain of falling water in the temple in Greenfalls. Behind the water stood a dark stone wall.
As the pair exited the water however, Theus found they were stepping onto the green-grassed bank of a smooth and steadily-flowing small river, in a countryside surrounded by gently-rolling hills and hillocks of bare gray stone scattered widely among the savannah landscape. The air smelled fresh – it felt vibrant. The turf seemed springier and the sunlight more energetic that any he had every felt. Experimentally, he used his senses to reach out and capture a portion of the power that fell in the sunlight; it was astonishing. The energy seemed limitless, even in a small portion. His wrist cuffs rang with an organic clangor as the power from the sun coursed through them and every fiber of his body.
“My lady, where are we?” Theus asked in bewildered astonishment.
“You are in my home,” Currense said.
She was no longer a figure of water, but instead a woman of indeterminate age and extraordinary beauty. And a woman with skin that was the deepest blue.
“This is my home in the realm of the gods. I have never brought a mortal here before,” the goddess told him, releasing her hold on his hand and looking at him with an appraising frankness. “This is the only place I trust to enable me to remove the evil that is ready to consume your soul,” she warned.
“What do you mean?” Theus asked in shock.
“Within your leg is the foetus of one of Ind’Petro’s demons. Within hours, it will be ready to break the shell that confines it, and then it will begin to consume you – energy, soul, mind, everything,” the goddess warned ominously. “I can seek to remove it here, and destroy it here. If by some chance the worst happens, it happens here, where we gods can contain it and prevent it from spreading through the world of mortals.”
“I’ll help fight it in any way I can,” Theus spoke up quickly, shocked by the implications of the conversation.
“Theus, if it comes to that, you’ll be dead in a heartbeat. The demon will not even pause in killing you on its way to fighting us,” the goddess told him.
“Now, where are the others?” she spoke to herself.
“You,” she turned to Theus, “go to the escir and wait for us to gather around you there,” she commanded. “I’ll go gather them.”
“Go where?” he asked, confused by the unknown word.
“That long, steep hill,” Currense explained with a point. And then she was gone.
Theus looked down at the metal object in his leg, and he broke into a cold sweat at the thought of the horror that sat there, ready to break out and destroy him in a moment. He bent at the waist and looked closely. The object that he had thought was metal seemed to be slightly translucent, with mottled patches. As he looked closely, one such patch seemed to move, and he realized it was something internal to the shell, something moving on the inside. He started to move a finger towards the surface of the fearful horror, when something behind him poked him in the ribs.
“Boo!” a man’s voice exclaimed.
Theus shrieked in fear, straightened up, and spun around, all in the same motion.
A man with gray skin stood behind him, grinning broadly.
“I’m surprised your pants didn’t turn yellow!” the man crowed. “I got you good.”
“Who are you?” Theus asked grumpily. “That could have been dangerous. This thing could kill us all,” he pointed at the embedded device.
“I know; I heard Currense’s high and mighty speech, and her request that I help remove it. I am Maurienne, at your service,” the man told Theus with a theatrical bow.
“The god of thieves? I heard your name a lot in Southsand. They prayed to you or swore to you more than any other god, except for Donal and Ind’Petro, I mean,” Theus bowed to the divinity.
“That happens. In communities where there is a lot of stress and danger, there seems to be more crime, and more thievery, and more prayers made to me. But I have adherents everywhere – and I mean everywhere!” the god said emphatically.
“Let’s go over to the hill to wait for the others,” he suggested with a wave of his hand. “Oh, and here’s your purse back,” he added, handing over the leather pouch Theus had carried on his belt. Theus had thought that his staff, strapped over his back, had protected the purse from being easily touched by others.
Theus snatched the purse back, while Maurienne grinned, and they walked to the hill. Theus began to angle his way up the steep hillside, followed by the god. When they reached the top, another god, one with deep red skin stood waiting. Theus stood back and let Maurienne step in between himself and the disturbing-appearing entity.
“You should be bowing at my feet, as much as you stumble through my works,” the reddish god grumbled to Theus. “But I came anyway when Currense found me. She’s hard to resist; easier than Gelate, of course,” he added.
“Who are you, my lord?” Theus asked cautiously.
“I’m the god of healing, Baccoso, and I’d appreciate a little acknowledgement of my assistance from time to time,” the god groused. “I’ve spent lifetimes developing the techniques you use to treat illnesses and injuries.”
“Theus, my son!” Limber stood by, brown as the stones of the mountains, but sized like the other gods, on a scale with humans. His features were exactly the same as they had been in his city when Theus had seen him; only his coloring was changed in the land of the gods.
“My lord,” Theus said gratefully, pleased that his own god, a familiar and reliable figure, was present.
“Now we’re all gathered,” Currense was suddenly back among them.” You each know the role you’ll play; each of you except Theus, that is,” she began to explain.
“You need to lie here,” Currense directed Theus to a flat slab of stone that sat slightly above the level of the weeds growing on the hill top. “Lie on your back, and relax.”
Theus removed his staff from his back then lay down, cautiously cognizant of the pain he felt, and cognizant suddenly that the pain was only a very small taste of how badly he might feel if the situation deteriorated.
“Baccoso, you and Maurienne should handle this, as we discussed,” Currense directed the gods as they gathered around Theus. He felt like the dinner in the center of a table, he idly told himself, with the gods gathered and looking down upon him.
The two gods took positions on either side of him at hip level, and bent over close, as Currense stood by his head, and reached down to hold his free hand. His other hand still held his staff, he discovered, so he let it dangle off the side of the stone.
“Here, drink this,” Baccoso suddenly offered a small beaker with a green potion.
“What is it?” Theus asked, raising his head as he dropped his staff and reached for the container.
“You’d actually probably understand if I told you, but it would take too long. Just drink it,” the god commanded.
“Look at how this thing is changing,” Maurienne, spoke absently, bending closer to look at the pod with the demon inside.
“It’s splitting open, by all the roots of mountains!” Limber suddenly shouted. “Get back, you thief!”
Limber pushed Maurienne back, as Theus felt an incomprehensible pain within his leg. There was a confusion of movement and sounds all around him. He found himself suddenly lying on the ground beside the stone, while a roiling, screaming, flaming scrum of divinities and a demon flailed off to his side.
Theus looked down at his leg, and saw the flesh shredded grievously, with blood flowing copiously from the wound. The loss of blood was grievous, and he was going into shock, he knew. He struggled and pulled his shirt off, then sliced a strip of cloth from it and tied the strip around his thigh as a tourniquet to staunch the flow of blood, while he felt himself growing weaker and weaker.
The battle between the gods and the demon continued in the background, the horrific bein
g somehow surviving the multiple strokes of damage that the gods inflicted, while it managed to lash out and strike back at them from time to time in the match that circled around upon the hilltop.
Theus sat back against the stone table and watched the battle in front of him. Maurienne suddenly stumbled and fell to the ground as the demon’s tail lashed out and struck him, leaving the other three gods to fight the battle.
The demon twisted and leapt high in the air, over the gap where the god of thieves lay, and it began to flee from the assault, limping heavily as it moved towards Theus in the path of its escape.
Theus’s eyes went wide, and his hands clawed at the ground on either side, searching for any weapon that might help him fend off the demon. He found his staff on one side of him, and the tilted beaker that Baccoso had offered him on the other hand, still three quarters full. The injured boy felt the muscles in his stomach start to tighten as he realized that the gods behind the demon were in pursuit, but weren’t going to reach the monster before it reached Theus if it continued on its trajectory.
He raised his staff, pulling it back behind his back, ready to swing it or fling it, and he awkwardly cocked his left arm, the beaker in his hand, prepared to throw at any second.
And still the demon moved towards him. It was slowed by the damage the gods had inflicted, but it was a speedy and frightening sight nonetheless for any mortal to face.
Theus weakly flung his staff at the demon when it was within twenty paces of him, and a second later he flung the beaker. The staff twisted as it flew, so that by the time it reached the demon its was sideways, and the monster easily swatted it away without any harm inflicted, and a roar of rage that was a sign of trouble.
But the beaker flew with unerringly good luck, and entered the open maw of the creature, striking its teeth and shattering open with a barely-heard crash.
And then the demon’s progress instantly became a staggering weave, and with five more steps it fell face-forward to the ground, where it lay for a handful of seconds before Limber reached it and struck it a fatal blow with a spear he was carrying.
Tangled Engagements (The Memory Stones Series Book 4) Page 21
