The Prophecy (Children of the River Book 1)

by Ren Curylo

  “It’s Ársa,” she answered.

  “Ah, it is the viper’s husband and our creator. Our god of the gods.”

  Moriko didn’t respond to this title. This adulation still made her uncomfortable.

  “This is quite fine tailoring,” Anahera said. “I assume it looks like him?”

  Moriko nodded. “It’s quite a good likeness of him,” she said. “I recognized it instantly.”

  Anahera inspected the doll beneath its clothing. She glanced inside the little pants by opening the front. She closed them quickly and looked at Moriko. “It’s anatomically correct,” she said.

  “I didn’t look,” Moriko said. “I found it and knew it was out of my skill range. I put it in my bag and came here.”

  “How long ago did you find it?”

  “Yesterday, in the early evening.”

  “I see. Well,” Anahera said. “This is some Rootwork. That is definitely what it is. Someone used this, Chéile, I assume, to control Ársa. Perhaps that’s how she got him to marry her and make her a goddess.”

  “Perhaps,” Moriko said.

  “It’s a level of expertise somewhere between a beginner and an expert, but it’s genuinely well made. The crafting is excellent. She’s a master seamstress, for sure.”

  “What shall we do with it, Anahera?” Moriko asked.

  Anahera continued to look the doll over in silence.

  “I mean,” Moriko continued, “is there some special care we need to take with it? I don’t want any ill to befall Ársa because of it.”

  “Of course not,” Anahera said. “What we will do, we will do to protect our God of Gods. Now, first thing I will do is cleanse this doll, and that will remove any connection she have with it, any control she have over it. I will cleanse it and then I will protec’ it.”

  “Protect it? You mean sort of block Chéile from using it anymore?”

  “Aye, and it will also prevent her from linking another doll to Ársa because I guarantee you she will start work on another to replace it when she figures out this one go missing.”

  “Good, I wouldn’t want her doing this again,” Moriko said.

  Anahera looked at her sharply; her eyes were piercing as she stared. “I betcha she has one of you,” the woman said. “I can feel a link to you somewhere, and it’s not just to Ársa.”

  Moriko shuddered at the thought.

  “This Chéile, can she find you, see you places when you think she can’t? Have you felt hard and angry and mean toward Ársa?”

  Moriko laughed. “Well, Ársa deserves all my hard feelings, but I’m mostly over those. Things will never be the same but I’ve decided not to hate him anymore.”

  “Ah, if dis Chéile, she have a doll of you, you may not be so choisy about it. But I can give you a temporary fix for dat, Moriko. Widout your doll, though, I can’t break it like I can dis one.”

  “All right,” Moriko said.

  Anahera gathered an array of supplies, a sack of small, old bones, a jar of dried worms, various scents and colors of oil, some dirt, and a small bowl of seeds. She also had several bundles of dried herbs, which she set in front of Moriko as she arranged the other items in front of her. She arranged them around the doll in a circle, with other smaller circles of items branching out from there. She placed thin lines of ground powder in various colors encircling all those circles on her table. She used a red powder and a yellow one. She encircled the entire thing with a ring of salt. At four points around the circle, she set up candles, alternating white and blue, being careful not to disturb her salt and powder circles. She lit them and sat down to look at Moriko. “Pick up a bundle of herbs and hand it to me,” she said.

  “Which one?”

  “Your choice,” Anahera said.

  Moriko picked up each bundle and sniffed it. She chose the most aromatic one and handed it to Anahera. The woman smiled at her and accepted the bundle.

  “Good choice,” she said. She lit the bundle and moved the smoking herbs around in a circle counterclockwise. She began speaking in a language that Moriko didn’t understand. It had a slightly chanting cadence to it, but the pattern was more chaotic than rhythmic.

  Moriko sat in silence, watching Anahera work. She tried to identify the scents she smelled from the burning herbs. Sage, definitely sage. It had a readily identifiable smell. There is lavender in there, too. Its dirty floral scent is easily recognized. She couldn’t easily identify the other scents.

  She sat in watchful silence while Anahera worked, paying close attention to everything the woman did and said.

  After Anahera finished and she extinguished the burning herbs in a pail of sand sitting next to the table, she turned to Moriko and smiled. “That cleanses the doll, and it should break the bonds she formed with Ársa through it. And it should block her from reattaching another one to him. While this one still exists, she won’t be able to link another doll to him. He is free of her—at least through this item and any control it gave her.”

  “What else was in the bundle you burned? I smelled lavender and sage.”

  “Angelica and mugwort,” Anahera said. She got up from the table and went to a shelf where she pulled down a small bag. She loaded it with several different herbs and dried flowers. She cinched the bag up tightly and returned to the table. “Keep this with you,” she said. “Chéile won’t be able to find you while this is working. The next time she finds you, come back to me and I’ll make you another one.”

  “Can you teach me some of your skills?” Moriko asked. “I am not too adept at warding and that sort of thing. I could use a tutor.”

  “Certainly,” Anahera said. “It will be my honor.”

  She picked up the doll and handed it back to Moriko. “I would suggest that you keep this safe and hidden in a place where Chéile won’t find it. Even though I know you’d like to give it to Ársa for safe keeping, I would urge you not to. If it falls into Chéile’s hands she could reactivate it.”

  “All right,” Moriko said. She slipped the doll back into her laghdaigh bag. “I appreciate your help, Anahera.”

  “I will help you anytime. I hear you are the representative of the Fae, as well as forest protector.”

  “Yes, Ársa assigned that task to me.”

  “He must trust you a great deal,” Anahera said. “I think that doll will be in the best hands possible if it stay with you.”

  “I appreciate your kind words, Anahera, and if you ever need me, please do not hesitate to call on me.”

  “Please keep a close eye on the Fae,” she said. “I have been having bad dreams for the last month. Something terrible is gonna befall a group of them. I don’t know when or who.”

  “I will do my best to watch over them,” Moriko said. She stood from her chair. “Thank you again,” she said.

  “Don’t forget your basket of fruit at the door. Sunder left it there a bit ago.”

  “That’s kind of you, thank you. And please thank Sunder for me, too.”

  “I will, Moriko. You can bring my basket back when you come for your first lesson in a few weeks. Drop in any time you have a chance. I’m always here.”

  Moriko thanked her again and exited the small hut. A large basket of various fruits was waiting for her outside the door. She picked it up and Traveled to her swamp home. She had enjoyed enough of the world for one day.

  1 day later Imber 16, 763

  Springmeadow, Old Cliff Cardosa, Lerien

  Muirgan Muirgan’s nerves were always jittery when she was meeting Chéile. They always started jangling their way through her body two days before their scheduled meeting. This time was no different, in fact, it may have been worse. She crested the waves offshore earlier than necessary, though she intended to be on time. First, she had something she wanted to accomplish. It would serve to sweeten her revenge.

  She swam for the shore and climbed out of her skin, transforming from a creature that looked like a fat, round seal into a beautiful, brown-haired human woman. She made her way,
naked except for the luxurious pelt she tied around her waist, to a portal a mile inland from the beach. Deep within that grove was a portal that would lead her to Springmeadow. It had taken her some time to learn the locations of this network of Faerie portals, which afforded her the ability to move around with ease.

  She had planned this day months ago when she first approached Chéile. Muirgan had carefully strung the newly minted goddess along, using the woman’s paranoia and jealousy against her.

  Muirgan was surprised at how easy it had been to manipulate Chéile. Consumed with suspicion and hatred, the woman didn’t think logically in the least. It had been nothing to convince her that Erish was having an affair with Ársa; the woman was so willing to believe.

  Muirgan had chosen Springmeadow especially because she knew a Fae portal was hidden away behind a miniature grove of toadstools. That portal would take her within an easy walk to Erish’s Lilitu Grove, two continents away. Today was the day she would go to Erish. She wanted the terror to be exquisite.

  Springmeadow was an open field surrounded by a thick forest in the north, where the woods turned to plains. It was at the edge of the densely treed center of Old Cliff. The rest of the province was plains, farmland, and cattle grazing territory, with miles and miles of mostly craggy shoreline. Despite its greenery, the ground was rocky and hard, mostly clay in the forested region. The rocks carried over into the farmland, making it an intense place to make a living for the few who dared. Not many humans lived here; most were not fit for the hard life it required to make it here. A tiny village stood nearby, one of the few between Springmeadow and the coast where most folks lived so they could fish. The forest, the villagers said, was haunted. It was inhospitable and didn’t like letting humans through. According to their legend, the meadow was a place of eternal springtime. The grass was always green, the flowers always in bloom and the small babbling brook running through it never froze. They also said it was a myth and didn’t exist because none of them had ever actually seen it. The few of them who tried never returned, giving credence to the haunted forest stories.

  Muirgan was familiar with this forest after spending so much time here. It was the location where she most often met Chéile to share news, rumors or gossip about Erish’s whereabouts. It wasn’t far from the coast, which made it easier for Muirgan to come here. It seemed to be a little more difficult for Chéile, though the woman was improving over time. The forest, due to its proximity to the meadow, seemed forbidding to mortals, making them uncomfortable and reluctant to come here. The only creatures that could traverse this area without feelings of discomfort were Fae or other immortals. Even those were subject to Fae approval. Chéile was not Fae and Muirgan was sure she was beloved by no one. Coming here seemed to take a toll on her. It made Muirgan feel a bit safer to meet where Chéile felt at a disadvantage for she harbored no illusions that Chéile was her friend or that she was safe in her presence.

  Muirgan went to the largest tree at the edge of the clearing and reached into a knothole. She pulled out an oiled canvas bag. She withdrew human clothing, a skirt, a loose blouse, and a pair of flat leather shoes. She slipped the clothing on, folded her pelt, and slid it into the bag, which she tied onto a metal ring hanging from the skirt’s waistband.

  After she was dressed, she approached the tiny, half-hidden grove of toadstools and walked around it three times before she stepped a foot into a small clear spot in the center. The instant her foot touched the grass, she disappeared. She reappeared in another clearing that was remarkably similar to Springmeadow.

  She set off on foot, heading south, making her way to the Lilitu Grove. It would take her almost a day to get there. Another day back to the Mirus Ring and she would be back in Springmeadow in time for Chéile to lock onto her for their meeting. As long as Chéile didn’t get impatient and try to arrive early.

  After a long and tiring walk, Muirgan stepped into the Lilitu Grove. She knew that, within seconds, a guard would come to confront her. She remembered the inside of Erish’s palace well, but this area was unfamiliar. She had gone directly to Erish last time— the only time—she was here.

  Within minutes, a guard approached Muirgan, wielding a sharp nasty looking knife. “Who are you and what do you want?” she barked sharply.

  Muirgan held her hands up in surrender. “I need to speak to Queen Erish,” she said, taking pains to keep her voice friendly and calm. She was shaking inside and desperately wanted to keep it out of her voice or her outward appearance.

  The guard had rosy pink hair, bright blue eyes, and skin as white as a daisy petal. She had seen her before, and she hoped the woman wouldn’t recognize her and sound an alarm.

  “Who are you?”

  “My name is Muirgan,” she said. “I am a friend of your queen. I have some information for her that I am sure she will find beneficial.”

  “What information is that?” the guard asked, poking the knife aggressively in Muirgan’s direction.

  “It’s for your queen’s ears only and the fate of the Lilitu may rest on her getting it in due time. I’m sure she won’t appreciate it being delayed by a guard who won’t let it through.”

  The guard thought for a moment before indicating, with the knife, for Muirgan to move toward the center of the grove. Numerous buildings stood here, and to her, they all looked like mounds of dirt with doors. “Go on, then,” the guard said. “I’ll ask if she will see you.”

  Muirgan hastily complied with the guard’s directive as they moved toward a door where another guard stood. This woman looked almost exactly like the other and Muirgan wondered if Erish and Adamen were the only Lilitu that looked different.

  “What have you there, Durada?” the look-alike guard asked.

  “Someone to see the queen, Talya,” she said.

  “What’s her name?”

  “She calls herself Muirgan. You guard her out here and I’ll go in and ask Queen Erish about her,” Durada said.

  “My pleasure, sister,” Talya said, drawing a sword every bit as nasty looking as Durada’s knife. She pointed it with expert calm at Muirgan’s throat after she moved aside so her sister could enter the palace.

  Muirgan stood still, though her heart was beating so hard she thought it would be physically visible to the guard. She made no attempt at small talk. She wanted to get this whole process over as quickly as possible.

  Moments later, Durada opened the door and said, “Let her in, the queen wants to see her.”

  “What?” Talya asked in surprise.

  “Yeah, I know,” Durada said. She opened the door wide and motioned for Muirgan to enter. She stopped her as she crossed the threshold, and said, “I have to check you for weapons,” she said. Durada tucked her knife into her belt scabbard and began to frisk Muirgan. “She grabbed the bag and felt it. “What’s this?” she asked.

  “My, um, my cloak,” Muirgan said, hoping that would satisfy the guard.

  Durada squeezed the bag again. “I don’t feel anything hard,” she mumbled. She frisked over Muirgan again to be sure, before she stepped through the door on the left and said, “Queen Erish, Muirgan is clean. Do you want me to show her in?”

  A mumbled reply drifted to Muirgan and she could only assume it was affirmative because Durada turned and pushed her into the room.

  Muirgan swallowed hard at the sight of Erish, sitting on her high-backed chair with quiet dignity. Her long black hair was braided down both sides of her head and twined into one thick braid in the back. It draped over her shoulder and coiled in her lap. It reminded Muirgan of a long, thick water snake.

  Erish looked at her guest and a moment of panic and surprise swept over her face, replaced quickly by a cool gaze that gave away nothing. “Durada,” she said with a sickly-sweet tone, “it’s all right, you may leave us alone.”

  “Yes, my lady,” Durada said. She turned to glare at Muirgan as she made her way back to the door. “I’ll be right out here, my queen,” she said. “Just call if you need me.” She clo
sed the door, leaving Muirgan standing in stiff silence before the calm beauty of the Lilitu queen.

  “Well, Muirgan,” she purred. “I never thought I’d see you again.”

  “Nor I you,” Muirgan said. She managed a tremulous smile. “I have come here to warn you, my lady,” she said.

  “Warn me?” The admission clearly shocked Erish.

  “Yes, my lady,” she shifted nervously. “There is a rumor among the water folk that a goddess, apparently a new one, is on a rampage. She is sure her husband is cheating with a Lilitu.”

  Erish’s eyes widened, stunned by the words. “What?”

  “I came to warn you,” Muirgan said. “This goddess, her name is Chéile.”

  “I’ve heard of her,” Erish said cautiously, not wanting to give anything away. “She’s married to Ársa, is she not?”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “Are you saying that my daughter, Adamen is in danger from this woman?”

  “No, my lady,” Muirgan said. “Adamen is quite safe. To my knowledge, Chéile knows little to nothing about Adamen and she certainly does not connect her to Ársa.”

  Erish looked confused. “Who is in danger? For, as you know, Adamen is the only Lilitu to ever have an affair outside her race.”

  Muirgan smiled. “She is looking for you, Queen Erish.”

  “Me?” Erish gasped. “Why on earth would she look for me?”

  “Because I told her you were having an affair with her husband.”

  “What?” Erish shrieked. “You did what? Why?”

  “Because you sent Yann to kill Aindréas, and perhaps had planned for him to kill me, as well.”

  Erish stared at her. Her lips thinned into a hard line and her nostrils flared with each heavy breath. “I could kill where you stand,” Erish said.

  Muirgan nodded. “That’s true, you could. But you see, Erish, my advantage is that I don’t care what you do to me. I’m supposed to meet Chéile tomorrow. If I don’t show up, she will go on a rampage and destroy everything she can. She will never stop looking for you, either.”

  “If you don’t show up she won’t know what happened to you.”