by Allan Cole
For against all belief the wound had not been mortal.
I grabbed for the spear haft, meaning to drive it all the was through and into the ground.
But just as I touched it Novari vanished and my hand closed on empty air as the spear clattered to the ground.
I whirled to find her, drawing my sword.
She was sagging against my mother’s shrine, blood streaming down her white dress.
Novari saw me charging toward her and she cried out. And the cry became that of a wild creature of the skies and I saw her transforming into the great golden Lyre Bird.
A magical claw ripped the sword from my grasp and flung it away. There was a blast of light and I rammed into a hard opaque surface.
Just beyond that invisible shield I could see golden wings arching from Novari’s back.
Then there was an Otherworldly shrill as she tapped the ethers for still more power and it came rushing to her like a pent up river that had been suddenly released.
I smashed at the shield with my golden hand, trying to get at her. I felt it give, then firm again.
In a moment it would be too late. And all would be lost.
And then I heard a child shout:
“EMILIESAYS NO!”
It was like a thunderclap. The air was seared by the force of Emilie’s spell. The snow melted and ran across the ground in little glowing creeks. The creeks gathered into a single stream that flowed between my feet and under Novari’s shield.
It touched my mother’s shrine and light shimmered all along the stone’s surface.
I smelled the scent of sandalwood, my mother’s favorite perfume.
Then I heard her ghostly voice whisper in my ear: “I’m here, Rali.”
And I hammered once more on the shield.
It shattered under my golden hand and I stepped through, drawing my dagger.
The Lyre Bird - fully transformed, now - rose from the ground, mighty wingbeats sounding like drums in a giant’s village.
There were long, jagged lightning-like spurs gripped in her claws, spitting sorcerous fire.
And she swooped forward to attack.
I braced to meet it, my mother’s ghost by my side.
Then all time seemed to stand still and a strange peace came over me. My mind was free and I knew I was ready to die. But in that shadowy moment I thought of all the other Anteros who’d fought and died. Some nobly. Some not so nobly. But they were Anteros just the same. And I felt as one with them all. I thought of Emilie, who was the family’s only hope for the future. If there was to be a future.
And my mother’s ghost whispered, “Rali means hope.”
And the wind sighed, “Rali means hope.”
I heard other voices, ghostly voices. Antero voices. First Halib and Hermias. Then others, men and women and children, all calling my name.
And then I heard Amalric say, “Take our strength, Rali. Take our power.
“Strike, Rali! Strike!”
And so I did.
I felt as strong as the Goddess herself. I stamped the earth and the earth split and I reached for the power of the hells. Greycloak’s laws became mine. All that makes weight and heat and light and the very storms that toss us became mine. To that I added Rali’s law. The will to live. And I made it into a great molten ball and I hurled it at the onrushing Lyre Bird, shouting:
“EMILIESAYS!”
There was a wild shrill of bursting harp strings. And the bird plummeted to the ground.
As I ran to it the bird was transforming into Novari.
Beautiful Novari... taking form while music wept rivers of sorrow.
I stood over her as she breathed her last. She became quite still. Then her face relaxed into a look of great peace. And her lips parted.
And I heard a whisper... “Free.”
The whisper rose on a perfumed breath and I stepped back in wonder as shimmery forms misted up from Novari’s body. They rose to the cold skies, floating on musical streams made of lyre notes.
They were the ghosts of maidens, hundreds of them. Some just girls. Others young women. All so beautiful that the gods themselves must have marveled to see them.
And then they were gone and the music stopped.
All was silent. I felt suddenly very alone and knew the ghosts had departed.
I looked down and there was only a gown of virginal white where Novari’s body had been.
My strength drained away and I stumbled as I turned, looking about the garden. It was cold and the melted snow had already frozen into pebbled ice that reflected light like spectral jewels.
And I thought of Salimar who waited far away, across icy seas and frozen lands where the earth ends and love begins.
I wept for joy.
But a few of the tears I shed had the taste of salty sorrow.
Sorrow for the tragic creature who was the Lyre Bird.
And for the poor woman I’d known as Novari.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
THE LAST ANTERO
So there you have it.
The last testament of Rali Antero. And all the Anteros who came before.
Only one of us will remain - Emilie.
She came to me yesterday in my brother’s study - the old one-eyed cat clasped firmly to her breast. It was draped across her arms like a limp gray bath towel - head nearly as low as its tail.
“Guess what, Aunt Rali?” she piped. “I’m going to fix Pirate.”
The animal looked up at me with its single eye and gave a great sigh of infinite cat patience.
“What’s wrong with her?” I asked. “Other than the eye, that is.”
“That’s what I’m going to fix,” she said, hoisting Pirate onto my writing desk. The cat purred mightily as Emilie stroked it. “Her eye.”
“I don’t know if that’s possible, dear,” I said. I touched my eyepatch. “I think once an eye is gone, it’s gone forever.”
“Maybe so, Aunt Rali,” Emilie replied. “But I thought I’d try.”
With that she made a flourish, chanting, “Emiliesays Come Spider, Come.”
There was a small glow in the air and then a huge spider plopped down on my desk, fierce jaws clacking in fear. I jumped. And the cat hissed, arching its back and extending its claws at this sudden appearance of danger.
“Stay, Pirate!” Emilie commanded. But the cat paid her no mind and started to scramble away.
Emilie grabbed for her, reflexively blurting:
“Emiliesays Stay!”
Pirate froze. So did the spider. And I was suddenly immobile, as if gripped by a huge hand.
Emilie quickly saw what she’d done. “I’m sorry, Aunt Rali,” she said. “I meant Pirate stay, not you stay!” And she swiftly reversed the spell with an “Emiliesays Go!”
A weight lifted and I was suddenly free again.
At the same time Pirate bolted off the table, darting through the open door, and the spider leaped to the floor and quickly found a hiding place beneath my father’s ancient leather couch.
Emilie stamped her foot in frustration. “Now I’ll have to start all over again,” she complained. “Get Pirate. Catch the spider.” She extended her arms wide. “The whole thing!” Emilie gave a dramatic sigh. “I’ve been working ever so hard on this,” she said.
I didn’t ask her how she intended to use the spider to “fix” Pirate’s missing eye. Whatever she had in mind I’m sure it had a chance to work. Although the results might not be exactly what she expected.
Instead I said, gently as I could, “I know you’re trying to help, Emilie,” I said. “But maybe you shouldn’t this time. Maybe Pirate wouldn’t like it as much as you think. She’s been without that eye for a long time. She’s probably used to things the way they are.”
Emilie nibbled on a finger, thinking. Then she gave me a sad look. “Are you sure, Aunt Rali?” she asked. “Because if I could make Pirate better, maybe I could make you better too.”
I thought, so that’s what this is all about. I gave
her hug. “Thank you, Emilie dear,” I said, feeling a tear mist my living eye.
Emilie grew sadder still. “That means you don’t want me to do it, right?” she said.
I patted her red curls. “No I don’t,” I said. “I’m like Pirate. I’m used to the way I am. And sometimes the world even looks a little better when you’re seeing it through just one eye.”
I pulled her up on my lap and kissed her.
“It was supposed to a present,” she said, a catch in her voice. “A going away present.”
My heart lurched. How did she know the time was drawing so near?
“I can feel the pretty lady waiting real close, Aunt Rali,” she said, as if reading my thoughts. “She’s going to take you away when you’re done with that book, right?”
“That’s what the Goddess promised,” I said, quite soft.
“Salimar misses you,” Emilie said. She sniffled. “I can feel that too. Even though she’s far away. That’s how much she loves you, Aunt Rali.”
“And I her,” I said.
“But you’re not happy, are you Aunt Rali? You want to go. But you want to stay at the same time.” Her little arms clutched me. And she whispered, “You want to stay with me.”
A knot rose in my throat. I choked it back. “I want to very badly, Emilie,” I said.
“You love us both,” Emilie said. “But you can’t be with us both.”
I couldn’t answer. Not without losing control. So I held her tighter. We hugged for a time and then Emilie drew back, her face quite firm and serious for such a small child.
“You can’t stay here,” she announced. “It’d really, really hurt Salimar. And she needs you, Aunt Rali. She needs you something awful. She could maybe even get... deaded.” She put her hand on mine. “We don’t want her deaded, do we?”
I said, “But what about you, Emilie? I don’t want to hurt you either. Who will take care of you? Who will teach you all the things you need to know?”
She shrugged, casual. “There’s lots of people,” she said. “They’ve been taking care of me all along. And teaching me all sorts of things. Sometimes they teach me so much I want to shout for them to stop. And they all love me, Aunt Rali. Derlina. Palmeras. Quatervals. And all the women in the Guard.”
She spread her arms wide, declaring, “Everybody loves Emilie!”
Whenever I think of Emilie, I’ll remember most of all how she looked at that moment. Red hair gleaming in the light streaming through the window. Face glowing with happy confidence. Delicate arms uplifted like the wings of a butterfly ready to take flight.
Grandly announcing that, “Everybody loves Emilie!”
In that moment she gave me the strength to steer the only proper course.
I’ve made all the arrangements for Emilie’s future. She’ll be raised by our friends who will have the wealth that remains in my family’s coffers to insure she never wants for anything. Palmeras will tutor her in magic, guiding her blossoming talents. Derlina and Quatervals will teach her about life and how to arm oneself against the worst of it. And Pip will make her canny, teach her how to see around corners and into untrue hearts.
Emilie is a glorious child. The last gift of the Anteros to the people of Orissa.
She has tremendous powers that will only become greater and she’ll have to be treated gently as she grows. Like a god’s child come to live among small savages and causing damage out of clumsiness or mischief rather than intended harm.
I have faith in Emilie. I know she’ll eventually grow to be a woman of graceful power and beauty.
Whatever she becomes, however, all should remember that when “Emilie says” - she means “Emiliesays!”
As for me - soon as I’ve penned the last lines of this journal I shall go find my niece and kiss her goodbye.
Then the Goddess Maranonia will carry me away to Salimar.
Once again we will live together in a crystal palace with jetting fountains and gardens of roses, all pink and red and yellow. We will have a life of laughing days and sweet sighing nights.
And by the gods I will be loathe to ever leave it!
My old scribe would have told me that at this point in the journal I should speak to Orissa’s future. He’d want me to play seer like my brother.
I won’t attempt it. Wise as he was, Amalric was too kind a man to see the future in anything but a glorious light. I have only one eye and it isn’t kind so I won’t look into the hearts of those who dwell in this world that I will soon depart. I won’t search for the blackness there and denounce them for sins past, present and intended.
Make of the world what you want of it. It’s not for me to judge.
But I will give you all a warning. As I said at the beginning, that was the final purpose of this journal.
Heed these words:
I leave behind a woman child most precious to me.
Do not harm her or you will know my wrath.
It matters not if you possess riches greater than all the kings time has known. Or legions by the thousands to command. Or wizards with the powers of the Archons themselves.
If Emilie is harmed in any way I shall return.
And if I come again I will come with fire to blast your palaces.
I will come with cold to freeze your larders.
I will come with vermin and plague and war.
And those who survive will curse your name across all history for awakening me.
This I so swear.
I, Captain Rali Emilie Antero.
Late of the Maranon Guard.
THE END
