Prophecy (The Destiny Series Book 4)

by Christine Grey

  “Stop showing off, Cara. He’s not interested,” Chy scolded.

  “Looks interested to me,” she responded, thrusting her chest higher out of the water.

  Brint flushed red and adjusted his gaze away from her.

  “Oh, how sweet! He’s blushing!” Chy giggled.

  “I actually called you here to ask you a question,” Aesri said. They froze and eyed her warily.

  “What kind of question?” Cara asked after a brief hesitation.

  “On our trip from Maj to Etrafa, we met with a small inconvenience, and I was wondering if the two of you might be able to tell me anything about it.”

  Cara and Chy frowned as they looked at each other. They shook their heads, nodded, shrugged, raised a brow. It was fascinating to watch them carry on a full conversation without saying a single word.

  “We don’t know anything about a kraken,” Chy demurred.

  “I do not remember saying anything about a kraken,” Aesri said calmly.

  “Yes, you did! I’m sure you did,” Chy said, but her face showed she wasn’t sure at all.

  “Nice work!” Cara screamed at her. “Next thing you know, Cifera will be out to get us, too!”

  “Cifera, you say? Interesting, very interesting.” Aesri tapped her chin with one finger. “Do you happen to know if Cifera has any other plans for us?”

  “See! And you blamed me for mentioning the kraken. At least I wasn’t stupid enough to tell her about Cifera. Seriously, Cara, you have the brains of a goldfish, sometimes.”

  “You should talk—nothing but seaweed and barnacles between your ears! I’m sorry, Aesri. We really have nothing more to say.”

  “What a pity. Well, no matter. Darach Croi and I will be on our way. Come now, Brint.”

  “Wait!” the mermaids cried in unison. “Stay a while. We can talk about other things.”

  “I am sorry. I simply do not have time for idle conversation today. I am late for the festival already. If you have nothing more for me, then…”

  Chy chewed on her bottom lip, and Cara tugged on her ear in nervous agitation, but both of them continued to look at Brint longingly.

  Aesri gave the tiniest of nods to Brint who took it as his cue to speak.

  “Please, ladies,” he said, whereupon they both sighed and squealed in delight as if his voice was music to their ears. “If there's anything you can tell us…” And then, because he wanted this information as much as Aesri, he added, “I would be so grateful.”

  “How grateful?” Chy cooed.

  “Grateful enough to come for a short visit?” Cara added.

  “Ladies,” Aesri said, stopping them from going any further. “There will be plenty of time for talking about visits later. For now, we really do need that information, or we can leave. The choice is yours.”

  “Aunt Aesri, if it would help, I could—”

  “Yes? Yes?” The mermaids splashed excitedly, and Brint held his arm up to shield himself from the water that was drenching him.

  “Cifera—I need to know about Cifera,” Aesri reminded them.

  Cara shrugged in surrender. “She has been in contact with us, it’s true. She has promised that if we help her, she will send us many, many visitors.”

  Chy giggled at this. Cara gave her a hard shove before continuing.

  “Most of us are not willing to help her, no matter what the incentive is, but there are some who are wavering, Aesri. It’s only fair to tell you that I am not sure how much longer they will hold out. We are so very lonely, you know.

  “The kraken was a mistake, I think,” Chy said. “He was supposed to make sure Brin’du Drak’Tir was nowhere nearby before attacking, but what do you expect from a kraken? They aren’t exactly known for their brains, now are they?”

  Cara was once again trying to smooth her hair into a pleasing look. “Now, about that visit.”

  “Are there any other surprises we should be looking for, besides mermaids, I mean,” Aesri asked her.

  “Just the Dark Hearts, but that has little to do with us.”

  Aesri stumbled back and put a hand to her throat. “They are a myth, a story told by Etrafarian parents to disobedient children.”

  “Oh, no they’re not,” Chy chimed merrily. “I’ve seen them myself, though Cifera is pretty cautious about letting them stray too far. I wonder where she hides them all.”

  “You…you have seen them?” Aesri struggled to keep her voice from breaking. “When? When did you see them?”

  “Hmm, I don’t remember. Do you remember, Cara? Maybe Darach Croi could come home with us, and it would help improve our recollection.”

  Aesri looked up at the sun, shielding her eyes with a hand. “It is so late. We must be getting to the festival, but your offer is most generous. Let me get Darach Croi back so he does not miss any of the festivities, and we will discuss the possibilities of a visit.”

  “You will let us know?” Cara said, eyeing Brint as if he were a banquet that had been spread out for her pleasure.

  “Call for us any time,” Chy encouraged.

  “Of course, of course,” Aesri agreed. “Come on, Brint, we must go.”

  The mermaids did not swim away. Instead, they stayed to watch as Brint left with Aesri. They had already resumed the hair pulling and squabbling between themselves, and he could hear their shrieks even as he and Aesri entered the woods.

  “You did very well, Brint. Thank you.”

  “I suppose I could have gone with them for a short visit, if it would have helped, though I’m not sure how they expected me to stay under water for long.”

  “If you were with them, you would have been able to breathe just fine. Mermaids have a magic of their own, but if you went with them, you would never return.”

  “Why? Would they have harmed me?”

  “Oh, no! Not on purpose, that is. You see, there are no men in mermaid society, none at all, which is why they were so interested in you; they are forever on the lookout for…companions. The trouble with mermaids is that they are not very focused. They would have loved you beyond distraction, but in the same way as a baby loves a puppy. You would have been petted and adored, and then forgotten when something—or someone—else took their fancy. When that happened, you would most certainly have drowned. They would remember you eventually, but…”

  Brint took a deep breath, as if filling his lungs with the clean, wholesome air of Etrafa could erase the image of himself struggling for breath, far below in the ocean’s depths.

  “Aunt Aesri?” Brint asked after they'd walked in silence for several minutes.

  “Yes?”

  “What is a ‘dark heart’?”

  “Nothing! A myth! They do not exist.”

  “But, the mermaids said—”

  “The mermaids would say anything to convince me to let them take you. There are no Dark Hearts.”

  Brint left it at that, but the lines of distress between Aesri’s brows told him she was, perhaps, not as certain as she sounded.

  Chapter 11

  A dozen or so children ran alongside hoops that they kept upright and moving forward with long, smooth sticks. They were trying to maneuver them around stakes that had been planted into the ground, and to be the first to the finish line, which was an ivy vine strung between two sturdy saplings.

  Tabitha sat on a stone bench on the periphery of the activities, watching quietly. The site of the Etrafarian children at play made her homesick. Some of her initial elation about Rah had worn off, and she'd spent an hour in silent contemplation, deciding what it all meant to her. She hadn’t come up with much. What she'd decided was that nothing had really changed. She was still herself and the world was still the same, she just had more information than she had the day before. True, it was some pretty important information, but she didn’t think she wanted to permit herself to be swept away by it. She'd seen people who allowed themselves to be carried away on waves of self-righteous zeal. Since the Great War, a movement had grown on Mirin Tor.
A handful of people had started it, but the numbers had grown into the hundreds. They trained constantly, almost to the exclusion of all else, and they'd even taken to recruiting the very young into their ranks. They were determined to ensure that Mirin Tor would never again find herself so unprepared in the face of an enemy assault. The king allowed it, because he could see no harm in strengthening themselves, but Tabitha thought the king wasn’t thinking in the long term. When they came to Maj to train with Daniel, they frightened her. They seemed angry most of the time, and always so serious. If it didn’t involve training to fight or strict discipline in all things, it wasn’t worth their time. She thought they might have started out well-intentioned, but with each passing year they seemed to forget why they'd decided to train in the first place, which was to protect Mirin Tor and her way of life. Now, they were actively seeking to change that way of life, and anyone who disagreed with them or got in their way was to be converted, or ignored as an ignorant fool. Tabby wondered how long it would be until that philosophy warped into something more dangerous. No, she decided it was best to take things slowly with respect to Rah. Besides, Meeshe had said that Rah loved her for who she was, not for who He could make her into, so for now, she’d be content, being herself.

  Logan had taken Holly to get something to eat. She almost floated off the ground, she was so happy to have his attention. Tabitha chuckled to herself, drawing a couple of looks from nearby fairies. Almost floated. That was funny, considering Holly was an Etrafarian who couldn’t float. Okay, maybe not that funny.

  Tabitha wondered if Logan was as ignorant about Holly’s feelings as he appeared to be. She didn’t think so. He was very observant. Tabitha knew herself to be the exact opposite, so if she'd noticed, surely Logan must have, too. Maybe he felt the same way, but was unsure of how to handle those feelings. Maybe he wasn’t interested, but didn’t want to hurt Holly’s feelings. Maybe…maybe Tabitha was obsessing about something she had no control over. Besides, what did it matter to her? Logan was her friend. Holly was her…her…well, whatever she was, her romantic life was her own, and what did Tabitha care if the two of them sashayed off into the sunset?

  Except that she was starting to think she did care. Just a little.

  ***

  “Tabitha...Tabitha. In Cyrus’s name, sister!”

  “Huh?”

  “You really are a lost cause.” Brint sat beside her on the bench and gave her one of his dazzling smiles. “I suppose I love you anyway, but it’s a trial.”

  She punched him on the arm, but she might as well have hit him with a feather for all the reaction she got. “Where have you been?”

  “I’m surprised you noticed I wasn’t here. What are you doing over here all by yourself? Where's Holly…and everyone else?”

  “I think they went to get something to eat. Personally, I'd kill for some of cook’s rabbit stew right about now, but you know how the Etrafarians are about eating meat. I told Logan I wanted to go hunting, and you should have seen the look on his face!”

  “I suppose it’s harder for him. I imagine when you can speak to the animals, they stop looking like food.”

  “I guess so, it’s just that…wait…what? He can talk to animals?”

  “Where have you been living all this time, sister? Meeshe can, too. It’s a family thing, or so he tells me. Not all Etrafarians have that gift, but it runs in their line.”

  Now that he mentioned it, she did remember something about Meeshe talking to dolphins and other animals—she had simply forgotten.

  “I didn’t even know you and Logan spoke that much. You’re always off playing swords with the men. When do you have time?”

  Brint rolled his eyes in the much abused way of brothers everywhere. “We aren’t ‘playing swords,’ Tabitha, and you know it. Mother would have a fit if she heard you talk that way. We're practicing our swordsmanship, and Logan's actually quite good. I mean, he’s a beginner, so he has a ways to go, but I like what I see so far. He’s patient and thoughtful, and he doesn’t try to push too hard. I think he could really have something.”

  “Logan? As in, my Logan. I mean, not ‘my Logan,’ but…well…you know what I mean. He's been practicing?”

  Brint eyed his sister suspiciously. Her Logan? Had she really just said that? Out loud?

  “What are you gaping at? Do I have something in my hair again?” She started raking her fingers through her hair, trying to dislodge the leaf or bug or whatever it was that was making her brother look at her so strangely.

  “No, your hair is fine. I thought I saw someone I knew, is all,” Brint lied casually, and as always, his sister accepted the lie. With Tabitha, diplomacy was everything. He'd learned a long time ago that it was better to tell her a small lie to help her save face, and then come at her from the side to get the information he needed. If he tried a frontal assault, she'd dig in her heels and fight him, just to spite him.

  “So, Logan's been practicing with swords and he can talk to animals.”

  “Yes, and yes.”

  Tabitha shook her head. “How do I miss these things?”

  “Because, sister, you walk with your head in the clouds. It isn’t that you don’t think, it’s that when you do, it’s usually about something not happening in the moment. Don’t feel bad about it, though. I love you just as you are.”

  “Thanks, Brint.”

  He had expected her to come back with some sort of sassy response, but she looked at him with those fathomless blue eyes of hers instead, and answered with two words, where normally she would have used twenty—at least. Oh, yeah, something was definitely up with his sister, and he was fairly sure a tall Etrafarian was part of it, but there was something more there, as well.

  ***

  The afternoon had been pleasant enough, she supposed, but Holly’s heart wasn’t in any of it. Many people spoke to her, even tried to include her, but there was an undercurrent to their casual chatter. It was the strange sensation of being surrounded by people, and all of them were wearing masks, so that you were never sure who it was you were speaking to. They talked, they joked, and they laughed, but it had the feeling of being all show, like being on your best behavior when company comes to call, all the while wishing they'd go away so you could stop sitting up so straight, and kick off the uncomfortable shoes that pinched.

  If there was a positive to the day, it would have to be that it was almost over. Logan said there'd be a blessing, and then everyone would disperse to go back to their homes, or sit and visit as the mood struck them. Anyone old enough to float would go up into the Great Tree and lite in the branches. For those too young to levitate, or those unable, as was the case with Holly, Tabitha, and Brint, they would walk up the staircase of earth to the platform at the lowest branch. Meeshe and Logan would use the platform, as well. Nothing impure could touch the tree, so while they were expected to participate, they were not allowed to land in the sacred branches and risk contaminating them.

  It was stupid. Worse, it was stupid and cruel. Meeshe was a dear woman who wouldn’t hurt a fly. She could be feisty when she wanted to be, but there was no real meanness in her. Holly frequently caught her doing small kindnesses for others when she thought no one was watching: a loaf of fresh bread left at a neighbor’s door; an extra helping of the berry tart Tabitha liked so much, slipped onto her plate when she was busy talking at dinner; a handful of grain scattered outside her window for the birds who came in the morning.

  And then there was Logan. Anyone with eyes could see he was hurt by people’s treatment of him. His angry glares and nearly perpetual scowls were a front to hide how he truly felt. Holly had to be honest and admit that he had been smiling more of late, and always when Tabitha was near. Why that should be, she couldn’t fathom. Tabby treated him with cool indifference most of the time, at least, as far as Holly could tell. She showed no preference for him or his company, favoring, as she always did, her plants and potions to interacting with the people around her. Holly wanted, more than anythi
ng, for him to smile at her the way he did at Tabitha, even once, but he never treated her with anything other than polite courtesy.

  All of the Etrafarian children had already gathered on the landing. Seeing them congregated together in one place made their numbers seem pitifully few, as there was space enough to hold many, many more than were assembled. The climb to the landing wasn’t difficult, but you did have to watch where you stepped. The ground that made up the staircase was still ground, after all, and there were natural divots and dips, rocks, and plants, and even the occasional root.

  “Stay to the side and remember, do not touch the tree,” Logan reminded them for roughly the hundredth time.

  He was escorting his grandmother to the platform, though she did not require his assistance. Fairies aged extremely well, and until they were very late in life, they continued to look much as they did after achieving adulthood. Even the elderly remained smooth of skin, and quick of movement. The only signs to betray Meeshe's age were a few strands of silver and white that intrude into her thick locks.

  Meeshe didn’t have to stand upon the platform—technically, she was pure—but since some viewed her as tainted because of her long ago liaison, and the fact that she had given birth to a cine measctha, she chose to avoid problems where she could, and use the platform with the others.

  Holly stared upwards as she walked, watching as the last few lanterns in the eaves of the Great Tree were lit. They gave off a magical glow and mixed with the voices of the Etrafarians; the effect was soothing. So enraptured was she by the scene that she did not see the thin root snaking out of the ground and across her path. As far as obstacles went, it was nothing. Less than nothing. Had she stepped directly onto it, she probably wouldn’t have even noticed the small bump beneath her foot. But she did not step directly on it. Instead, her toes slipped under it. Her next step sent her sprawling forward, hands splayed. She went down hard, scraping the palm of one hand painfully against a half-buried stone. Everyone rushed to her to see if she was all right, but she waved them away, more embarrassed than hurt. She laughed, holding up her stinging palm to her lips and blowing on it to ease what was quickly changing from sting to real pain.