by Lana Axe
Removing her mask, Tashi stood and offered one final prayer to the gods. Her voice cracked as she uttered the words, her heart believing none of them. There would be no beauty waiting for Tashi in death, but perhaps there was for her faithful sister. Finishing the prayer, she approached the mound and laid a hand gently on her sister’s head. “Goodbye, sweet sister,” she whispered. Tossing a handful of powder over the blanket, she stepped away and looked up at the stars.
The villagers walked forward, each with a torch in hand. Offering the flames to the bundled woman, they freed her from her worldly restraint. No longer would the shell inhibit her spirit. She would rise again in a better world.
Tashi stumbled through the darkness, not bothering to carry a torch of her own. She had to get away. There was no more to be done for Annin. Sobbing, she blindly found her way back to her hut and collapsed onto her own mattress. Burying her face in her pillow, she fell into a fitful sleep.
Nightmares of monsters, their dark forms dancing, invaded Tashi’s mind. They moved closer and closer, approaching the flaming remains of the young mother, but Tashi did not fear them. “You will not take her soul!” she shouted. To take her sister, they would have to get through her first. She would fight them with her bare hands if she had to. The shadows closed in on Tashi, forcing her to the ground, but she refused to cry out. “Take me,” she hissed, “but you will never take her!”
Tashi woke before sunrise, the pain behind her eyes proof enough that she had barely slept. A shadow moved across the central fire of her hut, but it disappeared before she could identify it. The fire sizzled, but no vision appeared.
“Stay away, Mother,” Tashi said to the flames. She would not have her mother blaming her for Annin’s death. “I did all I could,” she whispered.
Another shadow moved outside the flap, and Tashi rushed forward to catch it. Instead of a monster, she found the huddled form of Koli, who had been Annin’s mate.
“Priestess,” Koli said. “What will you do to safeguard the life of Annin’s child? My child.”
What could Tashi do? She couldn’t save her sister, so how did she plan to save her niece? “I don’t know,” she admitted. “The gods…” she started to say, but found no fitting words to finish the thought.
“There must be a sacrifice,” he said. “Without it, the gods will do nothing.”
For centuries the Ulihi tribe had offered blood sacrifices to the gods in exchange for blessings. There were tales of great successes in battle as well as the ending of droughts thanks to the sacrifices made by the tribe. However, there had been many sacrifices to save the children these past ten years, but nothing had removed the curse from the tribe. No child had survived, and the sacrifices had been wasted. The gods refused to act.
“My sister has already been sacrificed,” Tashi said. Her eyes stung from the tears that could no longer run, and she rubbed her fists against the dryness.
“We must be ready by daybreak,” Koli insisted. “It will be done.”
Tashi swallowed hard and stared at the man before her. He was large, a warrior among her people. He stood bare-chested and proud, determination in his dark eyes. Numerous strands of beads hung around his neck, and a row of precisely carved scars adorned his ribs. He would have fought many battles were there battles to be fought. Instead, his marks symbolized the hunt, and the animals he had bested to feed his tribe. He was not a man to be argued with.
“I am High Priestess,” Tashi said, stepping forward. “No man or woman commands me.”
“The gods command you,” Koli shot back, “and they demand a sacrifice.”
“And they have had it,” she replied, finding more tears than she believed she possessed.
Koli shook his head. “It is not enough,” he said, his manner softening. “Please, Tashi. For the child to be named, there must be a sacrifice.”
“The gods have not found their way to our people in many years,” Tashi said. “What makes you think this time will be different?”
“Because it has to be,” he said.
Tashi stared into his eyes and saw his certainty. Too many still believed in the gods, too many still so foolish. “I will assemble the villagers,” she finally said.
Koli grabbed her wrist as she began to walk away. “The death of the infants these many years were not your doing,” he said. “You were not High Priestess when this began. Your mother was.”
Looking him up and down, Tashi said, “My mother was a faithful priestess.” How could he dare blame her mother for such tragedy?
“She drove the gods away,” Koli went on. “You must bring them back.”
Jerking her arm away from him, Tashi crossed the center of the village and stared at the horizon. Koli could not possibly know. He was older than her, but he knew nothing of the lot of a priestess. Tashi’s mother had revealed to her the truth behind her profession. It was merely the crafting of potions and singing of chants. The rest fell to the villagers to believe or not. The gods had nothing to do with it. One either chose to believe or didn’t. It mattered not. Tashi’s mother had chosen to believe, as had her sister. The deaths of so many infants had another cause, one unknown to the priestesses and doulas.
Koli proceeded to gather the villagers as Tashi continued looking toward the sunrise. Seeing them all assembled, she shook her head. A sacrifice will not fix our problems, she thought. We need true magic, not this shameful display.
Standing before her people, she announced, “Koli insists on a sacrifice to protect the life of his child. Is anyone willing?”
One old woman stood, propping herself on a wooden stick. “I will go to the gods in the child’s place,” the woman said proudly.
“No,” Koli said. “You are old and near death anyway. Such a sacrifice means nothing to the gods.”
The old woman bowed her head and took a seat, not willing to argue with the warrior.
“I will go,” Koli continued. “The gods can have me.”
The life of a strong man had always carried more weight with the gods, at least in centuries past. Only the most pressing matters were handled in such a way. It was preferable to sacrifice enemy tribesmen who had been captured in battle, but Tashi’s was the only tribe left. It had to be one of her own.
“Very well,” she said. Pulling a thin dagger from the holster on her arm, she held it up to the first rays of the sun. Its golden hue reflected in the metal as Koli knelt before her and tilted his head backward. Shouting to the gods, Tashi implored them to take the life of this man and look favorably upon the life of the infant. The villagers trilled in time with the priestess’s chant, granting their approval of the exchange.
All fell silent as Tashi plunged the blade into Koli’s neck, the red life force spurting back at her, coating her arms and legs. She turned her head away, feeling the eyes of the gods upon her. They were laughing, mocking the futile effort. Koli had died for no reason. The gods would not assist her. She had no use for them, and they had no favors for her.
Preparing Koli’s body as she had her sister’s, Tashi cursed the waste of life. Koli had loved her sister and wanted to follow her in death. That is why he volunteered, she told herself. Remembering the look in his eyes as he insisted on the sacrifice gave her pause. He truly believed this would save his child. Would it have saved Annin? Tashi would never know. It was too late to trade her own life. There was no sacrifice that could bring Annin back to the living.
Chapter 4
Kaiya arrived in the town, the constant ringing of hammers upon anvils echoing in her ears. It was rarely quiet in dwarven towns during the daytime. As she approached the smithy, the ground rumbled beneath her, and she reached for her magic to keep herself upright. Metal implements clanged and rattled, the blacksmith himself rolling out of the way to avoid falling objects. It lasted only a few seconds, but it was enough to ruffle the man’s temper.
Staring up at Kaiya from his position on the ground, he asked, “Can’t you put a stop to this damn shaking?”
“Not y
et,” she replied, honestly, but with a note of pride in her voice. She was no earth mage, but if she could find a way to quiet the mountain, she would do it.
Passing the smith, she headed for the rune carver’s stall located directly behind the smithy. A tall elf with dark waist-length hair greeted her with a friendly smile. His brown eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief, but before he could open his mouth to speak, Trin shoved him from behind.
“You’re in my way, elf,” the rune carver said. Shaking his head, he added, “Always standing about.”
“Maybe you should give him more work to do,” Kaiya jibed. Galen had apprenticed for Trin for six years, and he’d learned nearly all there was to know about dwarven runes. There wasn’t much else for the elf to do in the small town, but Kaiya knew why he stayed. He hoped to remain close to her.
A few years back, the two had been romantically involved. Kaiya, however, wasn’t ready to settle into a relationship. As a sorceress, her life would extend for many centuries. There was plenty of time to find a partner, if indeed she wanted one. The only thing tying her to this place was her parents. She loved them dearly, but they would not live forever. When they no longer had need of her, she intended to travel with the wind as her only companion.
Not that Galen made a bad traveling companion, and he would likely travel anywhere at her request. But he was content to stay in one place as long as there were books to read. He spent most of his daylight hours assisting Trin, but his evenings were spent in intense study, including the history of the dwarves, their ancient language, and the geology of the mountain itself. It made for interesting conversations, and the two remained close friends. A true loner, Kaiya doubted anything more would ever come of their relationship.
“He already has me do the majority of his work,” Galen replied with a smile. “Trin spends most of his time whittling stone animals for his grandchildren.”
Trin glared at the elf, his silver beard quivering slightly. “One time I did that,” he replied. “One time.” He held up a single finger as near to Galen’s face as he could reach.
After a moment staring at each other, both men laughed. Such was their friendship, plenty of joking to pass the tedious hours of work their chosen profession required.
When he’d finished laughing, Galen turned his attention back to Kaiya. “Someone was looking for you this morning,” he told her.
“Who?” she asked. “Did you send him to the farm?”
“It was someone from one of the mines up north, and I didn’t catch his name,” the elf replied. “He headed off for a drink without saying anything else.”
Kaiya shook her head. It was just like a dwarf man to start drinking before breakfast. No wonder she had considered an elf for a partner before any dwarf. “You have no idea what he wanted?”
“All I know was he was looking for a sorceress, and that could only mean you,” Galen replied, reaching for a smooth black stone. He placed it on the counter with a loud thud, earning him a cutting glance from Trin. “I’ll help you find him if you like,” he offered.
“You have work to do,” Kaiya replied. “We’ll talk later.” She was interested in getting Galen’s take on her vision and the tremors, but it was more urgent to speak to the visitor. It was no coincidence he had shown up this morning.
Hurrying along the dirt roads, Kaiya ignored everyone in her path. The merchants hawked their wares as she strode past, but she wasn’t listening. Her sights set on the tavern, she pressed on to the farthest edge of town near the mines.
Despite the early hour, the tavern buzzed with activity. A miner grinned drunkenly at the sorceress as he exited, holding the door open for the lady. Bobbing her head in thanks, she stepped inside, her nose tingling from the strong scent of hops and pipe smoke.
Several men sat inside, and one large woman stood behind the bar, casually conversing with a customer. Only one man was unfamiliar, so he had to be the one looking for her. Visitors were few in this town. Kaiya went straight to his table and pulled up a chair. The man eyed her a moment, wiping the foam away from his curly, brown beard.
“You the sorceress?” he asked.
Kaiya gave a single nod. “I am, and I heard you were looking for me.”
The dwarf took a long sip from his frothy mug before banging it on the table. He let out a long belch before speaking. “Name’s Raad,” he began. “There’s trouble up north, and the foreman decided you were the woman to deal with it.”
“What kind of trouble?” she asked impatiently.
“It started as tremors,” Raad explained. “Just enough to unnerve us at first, but then it got worse. Soon the ground was shaking us so bad, you’d think we were all staggering drunk.” He tapped his empty mug on the table, signaling the bartender for a refill. Once he had it in hand, he continued. “Damn avalanche caused a cave-in and injured thirteen workers. It took days to dig them out.”
Kaiya sighed. “If the tremors kept happening, why would you go inside the mine?” She asked despite knowing the answer. Dwarves could be quite greedy, and iron ore wasn’t the only mineral found in the northernmost mines. The rarest of all gemstones, painite—better known as Dwarf’s Heart—was also found in small quantities. Kings of all lands craved these gems, which could be refined only by the finest elven craftsmen.
“There’s work to be done, miss,” Raad replied. “We don’t travel that far north to sit around, tremors or not.”
“Surely you’ve experienced avalanches before,” Kaiya said. “What brought you to find me?”
“It wasn’t just one avalanche; it was three,” Raad said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “We’ve got miners out with injuries, and it’s slowing down production. Foreman thought you might be able to put a stop to it.”
“It sounds like you need an earth mage, not me,” she replied.
“You know as well as I do that there aren’t any around these parts,” Raad said. “I’d never heard of a wizard that wasn’t an elf, and they don’t come here. We take the gems to them, but they’re not interested in visiting us.”
Kaiya knew well that the elves of the isles weren’t readily available to lend their assistance to the dwarves. The two races barely tolerated each other, the dwarves despising the elves for their arrogance, and the elves despising the dwarves for their boorish nature. It was a rare thing to see the two getting along.
“You’re the only wizard around here who might be of use to us,” Raad said. “We could sure use your help.”
Contemplating a moment, Kaiya felt uneasy. Suspicions of a presence within the mountain had not left her, the images from her vision still playing in her head. “I’ll come with you,” she stated. “I’ll do whatever I can to help.”
“Much obliged,” Raad said, finishing his ale. Extending his arm, he shook the sorceress’s hand.
At the miner’s touch, Kaiya felt a sudden surge of fear. There was something more that he wasn’t telling her. “Is there something else I need to know?” she asked.
Raad shook his head. “Foreman Daro will explain everything when we get there.” He looked away quickly.
Kaiya did not press the matter. Whatever he was hiding would not change her decision. She had agreed to go, and she would keep her word regardless of the possible danger. Her vision was leading her higher into the mountains, whether she traveled with Raad or alone. “When do you plan to leave?” she asked.
“I’d like another drink, and then I’m all yours,” he said, flashing a smile.
“I’ll meet you near the forges on the north side of town,” she said. “We can set out from there.”
Raad nodded his agreement and headed over to the bar, empty mug in hand. Kaiya pushed her way through a group of miners who were blocking her way to the exit. No magic was needed. They were too drunk to put up a struggle as the determined woman elbowed past them.
Not two steps outside the tavern, Kaiya stopped short, surprised by the sight in front of her. Galen waved cheerfully as he jogged to meet her.
Galen waved the comment away. “I wanted to make sure you found your visitor,” he said, grinning.
“I did,” she replied, starting to walk.
Galen kept pace at her side. “So what did he want?”
“There’s trouble at the mines,” she said.
“Naturally,” the elf commented. “What kind of trouble?”
Kaiya paused her walking. “The kind that doesn’t concern you,” she said. “Why are you so nosey all of a sudden?” It wasn’t like him to ply her with questions. He was typically laid-back and willing to let her have her secrets. She was, after all, a sorceress.
“I know something’s troubling you,” he said sincerely. “Those tremors are a warning.”
“What makes you say that?” she wondered. Did the elf know something she didn’t?
“I’ve done a lot of reading in my lifetime,” he began. “And I’ve lived a long time in the Vale beneath these mountains. There have never been earthquakes in my lifetime.”
“That doesn’t mean they couldn’t be natural,” she said, willing her voice to stay steady. What good would it do to worry her friend with her own suspicions?
“You’re hiding something,” Galen said. “Whatever it is, I want to help.”
“I don’t even know if I need help yet,” she replied. “Until I’ve gone to the mines to see for myself, I won’t know what’s going on.”
“So you do plan to leave,” he said. “I figured that miner came to fetch you for something.”
“Yes, he did,” she said. “The Dwarf’s Heart mines have become dangerous, and people have been hurt. It could be natural, it could be something else. That’s what I’m going to figure out.”
“I’ll go with you,” Galen said, his tone resolute.
“I appreciate the offer, but it’s not going to be a fun trip,” she replied. Galen made a good companion for travel, but this wasn’t a vacation. This was serious business, and he would try to make light of it. She feared he would only prove a distraction from her investigation. “It could also be dangerous,” she added.
