Iliana bristled. ‘He’s making sure they know he’s there, he’s protecting me.’
‘We protect you,’ Karen argued.
Iliana laughed at that.
Kain cleared his throat from where he sat. ‘We’ve received word that Drake Evernst has overthrown the monarchy and now rules the Otherworld from Erp Surrel.’
Iliana sensed the comment was directed at her, even as he announced it to the room.
Iliana shoved past. ‘I don’t care who Drake is.’
‘A necromancer cannot rule the Otherworld, it will upset the balance of everything.’ Kain called after her.
Iliana barked a laugh. ‘Balance?’ she whirled, ‘you think this world of yours is ‘balanced’? It’s topsy fucking turvy. It’s worse than where I’m from and things are pretty screwy there.’
‘Iliana,’ Karen started.
‘This place is insane! And neither you nor Terrence will help me rescue Zelda from the Lady.’
‘It’s not as simple as that.’
‘Then make it simple.’ The walls shook followed by a long residing silence.
‘The only reason you brought me here was to control me. The whole time I was trying, striving, bleeding, crying and agonising to get here all so you could house me here like a fucking pet. I’m not doing this crap anymore.’
‘Iliana...’
‘Why did you really want to bring me here?’ Iliana interrogated.
Karen sucked in a breath.
‘No more lies!’
‘We needed to keep you safe.’
‘Is that the real reason?’
Karen inspected her. ‘Our duty is to cosmic order. Your existence violates that and upsets the balance of the Otherworld and possibly our universe. Think of what has happened so far since you’ve come here.’
‘You didn’t bring me here for my protection.’ Iliana realised with horror. ‘You brought me here to protect the Otherworld from me.’
‘Tis true.’ Claris said, who eyed her up.
Iliana stormed from the room, and strode at a fast pace that turned into a run down spiralling corridors, past statues depicting gods which she quickly diverted her eyes away from.
Zelda was never to protect her, just to stop her from falling into the wrong hands. That realisation cut her deeply; even in death could Zelda’s secrets still hurt and betray her.
She stopped at the entrance of a familiar space.
The grand hall was library quiet and thankfully empty. The space was so large and cavernous she thought it could soak in the myriad of thoughts and emotions that blustered inside her, competing for dominance.
Iliana padded barefoot through the forest of columns to the dais, taking particular interest in the bronze mirror that hung behind it. The marble cold seeped into her feet as she went.
Candles burned around the hall and square cushions for prayer were stacked in the far corner. Far above, starlight charted across the dome’s ceiling, constellations winking softly.
She closed her eyes and inhaled through her nose, arms folded in front of the shrine.
Iliana was half god and her mother was dead. She let out a nervous laugh. Truth was stranger than fiction.
She tried to feel some semblance of grief at knowing her biological mother was gone, her hopes of ever seeing her family again dashed. Iliana tried but she couldn’t, it was like asking someone to draw a stranger's face, how could she feel loss for someone she’d never met?
The mirror reflected the soothing candlelight like a disk.
She glanced up.
It didn’t seem so remarkable, it wasn’t even a mirror so much as a very large bronze plate inlaid with concentric circles that echoed from the centre out.
Curious, Iliana walked behind the podium to stand in front of it. Inscribed on the outermost circle were words that Iliana didn’t understand. She brushed her fingertips lightly over them. The letters waved like ink in water and rearranged themselves to read in English. Iliana wondered if she had something subliminally.
The engraving now read: ‘So that our clarity bestows us knowledge to guard from those who threaten all existence.’
In its scrubbed yet murkish reflection, Iliana could see her silhouette against the candlelight.
It rippled and her reflection was wiped clean. She was now looking into a black hole. A few moments passed and she saw a figure from far away. Like a camera it zoomed in and the person turned to reveal Malem Beryl. His mousy features filled the whole mirror and Iliana was reminded of what she had done to him. Had crushed him to smithereens, breaking him down and reusing his energy by turning him into flowers.
She felt truly frightened of herself, what disturbed her the most was how calm she had been, as though merely administering justice where she saw fit. Was that to be her destiny?
As she pondered, the vision of the man’s face faded and she was relieved.
Dread sucked into her when she saw another face appear. The nebulous mist unveiled her very own.
The mirror zoomed out and she saw herself sitting poised on a throne, a crown sitting atop her regal head, looking removably down upon kneeling worshippers. Calm, detached and cold. Worse than the Mad Queen; she didn’t recognise herself. The image dissipated and reformed to show the aftermath of a battlefield, bodies piled into mounds and hung limply on spears like cocktail sticks for the birds to feast on. She stood erect in the centre of it all in full armour, as soldiers swarmed around doing her bidding.
Iliana cried out and stumbled back. The black hole diffused rapidly and the mirror shone as duly as before. Panting, she stared at the mirror horrified as if it were a Xinger.
She cast around the hall but found herself still alone. The words of the mirror raced through her mind like toy cars and it wasn’t hard to put two and two together.
She touched them again but they remained in their foreign etching. Had she been seeing things? She nearly laughed. At this stage, was that even a worthy question?
She bit on her thumbnail nervously. Was that who she would become? Was Malem and his makeshift laboratory just the beginning of it? One threat was gone but one remained.
She wondered why the temple hadn’t just killed her when she was born, but perhaps it wasn’t that simple. It hurt to think that Zelda knew all this time and wouldn’t tell her, she wished so badly she was with her. Zelda would say the right things and facing the Xinger and the Alchemist would have been easier with her there.
Iliana sat down on the cold marble floor legs crossed, hugging herself tightly.
Threat. She was a threat to the Otherworld’s existence just through parentage alone. She may even be a threat to Earth. Her family and friends...she could put all their lives in danger by just existing.
She looked at the mirror once more. It wasn’t safe enough that Malem was dead, Iliana was the last person who put into the question the security of all life.
Resigned, she stood. She would probably never see home again anyway so her decision didn’t matter in that regard. And the only person she cared about in the Otherworld was dead.
Iliana held her hand out. Disintegrating Malem had been as easy as breathing, it only required focus.
She concentrated and her fingertips began to dissolve, particles brushing away to disappear. She oddly felt powerful and peaceful, at least she could have reassurance in herself that she was doing the right thing. At least this much was within her control.
A high-pitched shriek made her snap her head towards the mirror.
Iliana’s jaw went slack.
It was engulfed in flames. They licked the mirror’s edges and the mirror blazed like the sun itself. Through the face of the polished bronze, she saw a pair of blazing red-hot eyes staring out at her. It let out another shrill and Iliana put her hands to her ears, the sound cut into her eardrums.
A bird of flame was flying towards her, stroke by stroke.
Iliana tentatively stepped back but the flames ru
shed out from the mirror and consumed her, mind and body.
In a suctioned flash, the hall was still. And Iliana was gone.
Epilogue
A
n early evening beckoned, and the fading sunlight filtered through the claustrophobic trees that clustered together so tightly, they nearly shut out the sky. A will ‘o wisp danced over a marsh. A smoking coalescence of ghoulish green floating a few inches above the bog, and fireflies whizzed above the moor interchangeably.
On the edge of the wetland was a tall woman wearing an opera mask that covered half her face. Her cruel features were half visible, and she watched in amusement as a deer was being devoured by a wolf a mile away, such her vision was great. The badger had a fifth limb hanging from its belly like a tumour, flopping uselessly as the wolf feasted on its remains. A clear sign that the animals were being affected by the forest’s other planetary visits, how it had altered them physically. It was also interesting for the Queen to note how some forested parts disappeared from the Otherworld and never returned. Empty patches dotted throughout the forest where trees should be have been, but never returned from their cosmic journey
‘You’re so good at being quiet,’ she murmured, still absorbing the wolf’s greedy gulps of stringed flesh that hung from its teeth.
‘It’s an ability that’s served me well.’ The voice behind was hushed, could almost be mistaken by the wind.
‘What is it they call you again? The ‘Shadow Dancer’?’ The Queen asked teasingly, mocking the infamous man was something she did deliberately, to show she had no fear of him. It was good to keep a man in his place like that.
She turned to look down upon someone who she couldn’t completely identify. The features were spelled to be obscured and it made her suspicious that her ally chose not to show his face to her, no matter how useful he had been in thrashing Hannelsford.
‘Mr. Timmings I never expected to be so useful, he is a Deadblood after all.’ She sniffed. ‘But considering how well his explosives worked, I think his debt with me is settled. And my new pet was useful too in blowing up the prison,’ she said, ‘I may have use for it again.’
‘It got you what you wanted,’ breathed the Shadow Dancer, ‘it got you the Clock.’
‘It did indeed.’
‘Where is it?’
‘Somewhere safe.’
The Shadow Dancer nodded, the warped face too distorted for the Queen to pierce and see what lay underneath. The Queen was convinced the glamour had been conjured by a wizard, it had been too powerful even for her Sight to see through.
‘The Elysian tree pulses stronger each day,’ she said lightly, ‘I’ve never seen it animated and it is quite a sight.’
‘I know who woke it.’
That stunned the Queen into silence. The Dancer had many surprises, but to know who had stirred the ancient tree’s roots? Whose presence was enough to throw it into a frenzy?
She decided not to take his bait. Many conversations with the Shadow Dancer led her to believe that even conversing with him was a kind of trap he could weave, if you followed the verbal labyrinthine corridors he’d strewn. She found after talking to him she’d have a headache, like communication was something he could drug you with.
As wild as she was to know who had disturbed the tree, she switched subjects, trying stay in control of where their chat was heading.
‘Don’t suppose you know where the other Instrument is?’
The Dancer stirred, ‘No, but it won’t stay hidden forever. It wants to be found.’
The Queen nodded. At times, during her dream time, she could hear the soft lulling of its song, it’s power calling out to her like a child to its mother. But even in her night flights above the forest she could never locate where it was coming from.
The Queen walked to a tree stump coated in lichen and sat down. Her shimmering dress poured down to the side to spill onto the lush forest floor.
‘It seems allying myself with Drake paid off, your plan to use the prison as a distraction for idiot Seamus worked. Now he rules Erp Surrel.’
‘But there are still enemies he must overcome. The regent at Castle Razielle will resist his rule and send forces, there is also the Temple of Stars to be reckoned with. Who knows what the Faerie Guard will do.’
The Shadow Dancer shifted from one tree to another, moving closer to the Queen. Even how he moved didn’t seem normal, he didn’t walk as much as flicker, and he would then be in another spot. His movements were flitting and constant; perhaps if he stopped he might catch fire.
‘He may be able to convince the factions, the pillars of the Otherworld, that his rule will be more prosperous than his pathetic predecessor. But how do you think he will respond if they resist?’
When she looked back at the badger the wolf was gone, and the carcass lay rotting beside the swaying weeds, insects crawling over the body in a frantic rush.
‘Isn’t it obvious?’ The Queen smiled. ‘War.’
Acknowledgements
I want to thank my family and friends who at times, had a more positive outlook on this first book than I, and their encouragement helped carry me through some of the roughest parts of this journey. I also want to extend a special thanks to everyone who takes the time to read this novel, as it is my first, and I feel somewhat overly exposed as some authors may in the early days of their publishing career. Writing is a joy for me, a button that cannot be pressed by anything else that I do, but it makes it that more satisfying when others decide to come on the journey of the Divine Inheritance series with me. Thank you to all who have read this book, and for any errors I apologise, editing is a process I am still cultivating.
About the Author
Catriona Murphy lives in Dublin, Ireland and works in digital marketing. She began writing as an adolescent, winning an award for a short story in 2008 from the Dublin Social Cultural Council, and hasn’t stopped writing since. Return of the Starchild is her first book that she finished while travelling the world alone.
Return of the Starchild (The Divine Inheritance Series Book 1) Page 28
