The Prophecy (Children of the River Book 1)

by Ren Curylo

  “Who were you talking to?” her mother questioned curiously, craning her neck to look into Chéile’s room.

  “No one,” Chéile said hastily, putting her arm around her mother’s shoulder and turning her away from the open doorway.

  “I thought I heard voices.”

  Chéile shook her head. “No, Mama,” she said sweetly. “I was only talking to myself, having imaginary conversations with the Prince.”

  Her mother seemed pacified with her answer and allowed her daughter to lead her down the stairs to join her husband.

  Chéile walked with her parents from their home to the castle for dinner with the prince. She stole a glance back several times along the way to find Ársa walking along behind them at a discreet distance. His eyes never left her. He would lift his hand and smile each time she looked back. Her parents seemed oblivious to his presence.

  He proved quite persistent. For weeks, every trip her family made to the palace to see the prince, Ársa would follow them. Every step of the way. He even walked beside her, talking to her, sometimes. He made no secret of the fact that he wanted her. He was blunt and plain-spoken about it, though he was never crude. He kissed her passionately every chance he got. Every time he kissed her, her heart would pound in her chest. Chéile wondered what other duties he was shirking since he was always at hand. He was relentless in his pursuit of her, just as she was relentless in her refusal of him.

  After a while, they developed camaraderie of sorts. One day, he wasn’t there and she nearly panicked wondering where he was. She looked for him everywhere. His absence was distressing. How could he abandon her after nearly four months of constant attention, she wondered. Had it been that long? Oh well, she thought, I’ll see him on my way back home; we’ll talk then.

  When they stepped outside the palace to begin their return walk, she looked for Ársa. She looked for him all the way home. She had news to tell him. The prince had officially announced to his subjects that he was courting Chéile. People met the announcement with mixed responses, she noted. Not everyone was happy about their relationship, it seemed. Enric, the village elder frowned and shook his head when Caolán made the announcement.

  It was merely an announcement of courtship, she thought, not an engagement. Why are they all being so hateful, she wondered.

  She was disappointed when she got home without seeing Ársa anywhere along the way. She thought for sure he’d be there. She couldn’t wait to tell him about her good fortune. Maybe then, he’d stop following her all over the countryside. After he kissed her goodbye, of course.

  2 months later Aventine 22, 761 Springmeadow Old Cliff, Cardosa

  Adamen Tonight, the first night in over a month that Adamen had felt like going out and getting into mischief. She was on her way to meet a troop of Pixies for a bit of fun at a nearby farm. They chose to meet in Springmeadow because no humans ventured here. They thought the place was cursed. All Fae on this continent used the perpetually green meadow as a meeting place. It was safe. As humans continued to encroach on other areas, they could count on this as a secure Fae spot.

  As she sat on a stone, one of many in a ring in the center of the meadow, she felt an all too familiar wave of nausea sweep over her. It came suddenly and would linger sometimes for hours. It had gone on long enough that Adamen was growing alarmed. Am I dying? I must have some dread disease to feel this way for so long.

  Adamen sighed in despair as the nausea increased. She bolted to the edge of the woods and vomited with such gusto that she feared her stomach would end up on the ground dangling at the end of her esophagus. She stayed, on her hands and knees, her head hanging forward and continued to heave. Her long, wavy red hair swirled around her, but she was too sick to worry about pulling it back to keep it out of the vomit.

  She was almost too sick to notice when someone gathered her hair and pulled it into a knot at the back of her neck.

  “Having a rough go of it, are you darling?” Ársa asked.

  Adamen groaned and spat. After a moment, she asked, “Do you have any water on you, Ársa?”

  Ársa made a snapping sound out of Adamen’s line of sight before he handed her a tall glass of water. She took it gratefully and rinsed her mouth out several times before getting a drink. She handed the empty glass back to him and sat back on her heels.

  Ársa took the glass and it vanished from his hand.

  “Thank you,” Adamen said, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand.

  “How long have you been sick?” he asked. He took her hand and helped her stand. He led her back to the stone she had used as a seat before he arrived.

  Adamen shrugged. “A month, maybe,” she said. “Maybe one and a half.”

  He narrowed his eyes and looked at her as he sat beside her. Ársa moved his hands, fingers splayed and palms toward her, hovering over her, close but without touching. “Hmm,” he said.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, looking at him skeptically.

  “I’m examining you,” he said. “To see if you need a doctor. I can call someone if you’re ill.”

  “Well, something is wrong,” she complained. “People don’t puke their guts up for no reason. At least I don’t.”

  He smiled. “You’re not puking for ‘no reason’, Adamen,” he said.

  “No, I didn’t think so, but I don’t know the reason.”

  “You’re pregnant,” he said.

  “What?” she shrieked. “What?” Adamen stared at him with a disbelieving look that gradually turned into a glare.

  He nodded and waved his hand over her belly. “You are, for sure,” he said. “It’s a boy, too.”

  Adamen groaned. “How could you do this to me?” she said hotly. “And a boy? You know what that means to a Lilitu.”

  He frowned. “Me?” he said with an offended tone. “What do you mean me? It wasn’t me. I didn’t choose this.”

  “You aren’t accusing me of being with someone else are you?” Adamen was angry.

  Ársa stared at her for a moment as if reading her.

  “Stop that,” she said, frowning at him intently. “I can feel you in my head. Get out.”

  Ársa shook his head. “I’m sorry, Adamen,” he said. “I shouldn’t have doubted you. I see you haven’t been with anyone else.”

  “I can’t believe you’d doubt me,” she shouted, “and then you go digging about in my head. I don’t like this a bit, Ársa.”

  “This must be what Mother meant,” he said, half to himself. “This must be what she was talking about when she came to Anoba.”

  “What are you babbling about?” Adamen said, continuing to glare at him. She was angry with him for doubting her fidelity but she was even more upset at the news he conveyed for she knew it was true. And if it is a boy, I’m in for a horrific time once Mama finds out. What am I to do?

  He reminded her of the conversation with his sister that he had discussed with her a couple of months before—right before the last time they had been together.

  Adamen groaned. “Mo dhia,” she said miserably. “I didn’t think that was for real.”

  “I had hoped it wasn’t,” Ársa muttered. He turned to her with a grim expression. “I can take it away, Adamen,” he said, moving his hand over her belly again.

  She shook her head and pushed his hand away. “If you’re right, Ársa, and this is related to The Prophecy, we dare not do anything to jeopardize it. You’re going to have to help me through this, though, because Mama won’t be happy about this being a boy.”

  “Of course, Adamen,” he said. “I’ll do anything you like— anything you need. You can stay in my house on Amalith Island as long as you want to. You don’t have to deal with Queen Erish at all.”

  “This is horrible,” she moaned. “But at least now I know I’m not dying of some awful disease.”

  “Would you like me to take you to Amalith Island?”

  Adamen shook her head. “No, I need to play this by ear for a while and see what happens. But I woul
d like to be able to accept your offer later. I need time to figure this out. It’s not something I ever counted on happening in my life.”

  “Well, I never really counted on it either. It’s a worse shock for me since we’ve had control over this sort of thing for a long time.”

  Adamen glared at him with a scathing frown. “Excuse me, Mister, but it cannot possibly be a worse shock for you.” Her emphasis on ‘you’ left no doubt about her feelings on the matter. “You’re not the one who has to tote this thing around forever. You’re not the one who has to get all swollen and out of shape with it. You can even walk away and never look back. I don’t have that luxury.”

  Ársa opened his mouth to comment on the ‘forever’ part, then thought better of it and quickly closed it. “You won’t have to do this alone, Adamen,” he said softly. “I’ll take care of you.”

  Adamen narrowed her eyes at him and said, “What about afterwards?”

  “Afterwards? What do you mean?”

  “Well, someone has to raise him,” she snapped. “Feed him, clothe him, teach him how to clabber milk and all that sort of thing.”

  Ársa smiled and nodded. “Those are important things, I’ll agree,” he said. “I’ll make sure you have everything you need.”

  “But you won’t be there,” Adamen said.

  “As much as I’m able,” he said, “but…”

  Adamen interrupted, “But we both know what that means.” She snorted. “I’ve seen this sort of thing in humans,” she said. “The Fae don’t abandon their own children just because it’s convenient.”

  “It’s not something I planned or wanted,” he said defensively.

  Adamen shrieked at him, “And you think I did? I didn’t think it would really happen, that night when you told me about The Prophecy.”

  “Nor did I,” he said.

  “This is getting us nowhere,” she said angrily. “I need time to work on this, figure out what I’m going to do. I don’t think I want to see you anymore for quite a while.”

  “I’ll be available any time you want me,” he said.

  “I may want to go to Amalith Island later,” she said.

  Of course,” he said. “My offer still stands and you can accept anytime. Are you going to tell Erish?”

  “Not right away,” she said. “I’ll choose my time carefully. She’s going to be displeased that it’s a boy. You know what the Lilitu do with boys.”

  “I do,” he said, “and know that I will help you in any way I can.”

  Adamen nodded. “I will likely go stay on Amalith,” she said, “but right now, I need to be alone to think.”

  “I understand,” Ársa said. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Call me anytime, Adamen. I will do all I can for you.”

  Adamen nodded. “It’s such a shock. It’s the last thing I expected.”

  “Me, too,” Ársa said.

  “I’ll be in touch, Ársa,” she said. “Can you go now?”

  Ársa nodded and vanished, leaving her sitting alone in Springmeadow.

  1.5 months later Albus 5, 761

  Lilitu Grove

  Mirus Province, Corath

  Adamen “Adamen,” Erish said with a frown as she watched her daughter walk around the dinner table to toss another log on the fire. The winter wind blew itself into a howling frenzy outside their stone-faced house built into the hillside. Most of the house was actually underground. The only part that was stone was the façade surrounding the front doors and windows, and the chimney that stuck up in the top of the hill.

  “Yes, Mama,” Adamen said keeping her back turned to her mother. She knew what was coming. She had dreaded this discussion.

  “You’re pregnant,” the older woman said accusingly. Though Erish was centuries older than her daughter, she looked no older. The Lilitu Fae aged slowly and once they reached a certain point, they ceased to age anymore. They, like the other Fae, were immortal beings, as were the gods like Ársa and his Recoms. They could die, by accidents or illnesses, someone could murder them, but they would never die of old age.

  Adamen held her breath as she busied herself with the fire, poking it with the steel poker. She held her tongue. Waiting. How will Mama react? Adamen decided it was best to find out before she spoke, so she held her silence, waiting.

  “Adamen,” Erish said sharply. “Straighte n and turn, child, so I may look at you.”

  Adamen couldn’t refuse a straightforward directive from her mother who was also her queen. She slowly laid the poker aside and pulled herself up straight. She looked down at her own body, to see if her breasts were bigger. She knew her belly certainly was. She was neither a thin girl, nor was she fat, and while it had been something she could hide a while, she couldn’t conceal it long and it had been only a matter of time before Erish was looking at her from the right angle, at the right time and figured out the way things are.

  Adamen turned, or started to. When she was in profile to her mother, Erish held up her hand. “Stop right there.”

  Adamen immediately stopped.

  “Press your gown close so I can see you clearly.”

  Adamen smoothed her loose-fitting gown flat against her abdomen so the outline of her belly was clearly visible in profile.

  “You’re what? At least four, five months along?”

  “Yes,” Adamen said. “Almost five.”

  Erish nodded. “So, in four months I’m to have my first grandchild,” she said softly.

  “Yes, Mama,” Adamen said.

  “Come here,” Erish said. Her voice was husky and Adamen was unable to pick up the woman’s emotions from her tone.

  Adamen walked to her mother’s side where she sat at their dinner table in their cozy home.

  Erish reached out her hand and rubbed it over her daughter’s abdomen, feeling her gently, following the curve of her budding bulging belly. “Hmm,” the woman said musingly. “You’re quite large for no further along than you are. If you don’t split open by nine months it will be a wonder. You’ll be a miserable, waddling little girl before you birth this thing.”

  Adamen held her breath, afraid to be relieved that her mother wasn’t having a hissy fit. It still felt somewhat like a sword was hanging over her head.

  “Sit down, child,” Erish said, brushing her blue-black hair from her face. Erish’s hair was as black as daughter’s was red. Her eyes were as black as her daughter’s were green. Erish had the palest, whitest skin of any Lilitu, while Adamen was brown.

  Adamen complied quickly, still holding her tongue.

  “Are you happy about this, daughter?”

  Adamen was surprised by the question. Her mother had never before asked her if she was happy about anything. Usually, all they did was quarrel. “I suppose I am,” Adamen said quietly.

  “You’re quite subdued. That’s unlike you,” Erish observed. “Why didn’t you tell me? Usually, when one of our Lilitu gets pregnant, they rush to tell me and can’t wait for the announcements to be made.”

  Adamen shrugged. “I didn’t know how you’d feel about it,” she said quietly. “I didn’t plan for there to be any announcements.”

  “I see. Since coming to Lerien, our numbers are low, so it’s looked upon as a good and fortuitous thing when one of us ventures out to reproduce. I wasn’t aware there was one of our current drones who had caught your eye.”

  “I guess I should have told you sooner, Mama,” Adamen said. Knowing she couldn’t avoid the subject of the baby’s sire, she still dearly wished she could put it off a while longer.

  In Lilitu culture, only the females had value. They were a society of women, ruled by their queen. They could have sex anytime they pleased and did not need to worry about getting pregnant from any of the other races. The only creatures capable of impregnating them were the drones, the male Lilitu. Until now. Adamen didn’t know how her mother would react to the news that this child belonged to Ársa. While Erish viewed him as a god, he was still an outsider.

  In Lilitu cu
lture, they culled all the males at birth and only those with the strongest bloodlines survived. Housed in a stable, they had nothing in particular to do until a Lilitu female selected one to breed with her. When coming to the new world, the Recoms had divided them among the ten groups, which left them to start with low populations on each of the ten colonies. Now, after more than six hundred years on Lerien, they numbered a few dozen drones. Once one of the males had bred with a dozen females, he was retired. A council, appointed by the queen evaluated male children and decided their fate before their first year ended. If selected as breeders, they went to the stable to be raised and nurtured by the retired males. When they were old enough, they moved to the stable to await their turn at breeding. It seemed to Adamen, quite an abysmal life and she was glad she didn’t have to participate in that system. She fully intended that this would be the only child she ever carried.

  “I do hope you made sure that the breeder you used had cleaned himself properly before you had sex with him, Adamen,” Erish said with only the slightest cattiness in her tone. “You do know that they have sex with the other men out in the stable, being deprived of women as they are. And given the fact that men have a limited number of holes to use, sometimes it can get messy.”

  Adamen felt the color rise in her face, stinging her cheeks. She hated it when her mother spoke crudely of intimate things like that.

  “Which one did you choose?” Erish asked. She continued rubbing her daughter’s belly almost absent-mindedly as she talked to her.

  Adamen was growing uncomfortable under her mother’s eye and hand. She shifted, fidgeting nervously. How do I tell her?

  Erish stared at her daughter’s belly, waiting for her to answer. “Sit down,” she ordered her child.

  Adamen complied and quickly sat beside her mother. She was glad not to have her rubbing her hand over her belly any longer.

  “I can go to the guards and get the ledger that details who you had sex with, Adamen,” Erish said bluntly. “If you don’t tell me, I can find out anyway. You’re saving yourself nothing. If you don’t tell me voluntarily when I ask you, it will only serve to anger me and that won’t make your life better, trust me.”