Dark Moon Rising (The Prophecies of Zanufey)

by A. Evermore

  ‘She also passed me three enchanted keys wrapped in cloth, and whispered to me so no other would hear. “The keys to the chamber of the Sword of Binding,” she told me, sealed in a place where only one key will work. The Holder of the Keys would know which one and no other. The other keys are certain death. I tried to protest but her will was sacrosanct. I still have the keys but the Goddess only knows where the sword is, and how to even get close to it!’ Coronos looked at Asaph, who was again staring into the hearth, and wondered how much more he should say. He decided to keep it brief.

  ‘The rest happened fast. Shouting came from down the hall and the Queen ordered me to go. I kissed her forehead for one last time and fled with her baby through the hidden door in the floor and into the darkness of the secret passages that would lead me down to the sea.’ Coronos’s voice dropped to a whisper and he felt a tear trace down his cheek, ‘I left her to her fate in order to do her bidding, a doomed Queen’s last request to save her only son. Down the dark and narrow passageways I fled with you in my arms. You were asleep you know,’ Coronos laughed, though it sounded hollow, ‘I thanked Feygriene’s blessings for that!’ Asaph smiled at him, unshed tears also in his eyes.

  ‘Down and down I went until the stone walls became wet and the air thick with sea salt. I emerged out into a bitter howling wind and clambered down the dark craggy path to the cove where a small boat waited, as your mother said there would be. Not more than thirty people filled it,’ he shook his head sadly and continued.

  ‘Out to sea, away from the dark rocks, a small merchant ship was anchored, waiting for us. Queen Pheonis had known Drax would fall, but had she known that we were betrayed?’ Coronos said partly to himself, and then shook his head, ‘I can never be sure.

  ‘In the short time we had, since the first alarm of attack had sounded, she had arranged this and chosen those that would go, including two wet nurses for you. How hard had that been for her I cannot fathom, but it still makes me marvel at her strength, her intelligence. Oh my Queen, you outsmarted them to the last,’ he whispered. Asaph smiled.

  As he spoke and thought of Pheonis, Coronos could feel the orb growing hotter and hotter against his side. He knew it displayed the images of all that he thought and spoke, which was why he kept it hidden. He looked away from the younger man; I will not show him what the orb showed me, that much I will spare him from. The orb had shown him the briefest glimpse of her final demise, though he wished he had never asked, and never looked.

  ‘Baelthrom slaughtered her most cruelly. Her death was meant to be a message to the Feylint Halanoi, a warning to all those that dared defy his might, for even the proud Draxians would grovel before him; their mighty Dragon Lord Queen, crushed easily beneath his feet. A nation destroyed like so many others before them, under the unrelenting boot of the Immortals.’

  ‘Sixty was the total number aboard that small ship. Only sixty escaped the death and destruction reeked upon Drax by the Maphraxies; I live in hope that there are more, there must be more.’ Coronos hung his head, remembering his last sight of Drax as they sailed away into the west, into the darkness; the only light the fire breathed by doomed Dragons and Dragon Lords, disappearing on the eastern horizon.

  ‘West we fled across the Lost Sea; that vast expanse of ocean between the Old World and the Unchartered Lands between which the Shadowlands swirl. It was not called the Lost Sea without a reason. None who braved its storms had ever survived and returned, for the maker of those storms was a powerful Wizard, once a man and now a beast named Keteth.

  Keteth the White Beast, creator of the Shadowlands where the Forsaken wraiths tread, another blight upon Maioria, another monster to plague the seas as Baelthrom plagues the land. Of Keteth you know much, my son.’ Asaph nodded as Coronos continued. ‘The Shadowlands and the Lost Sea have ever been his domain; so long has he reigned that few remember its original name; the Abha Fey Sea, or the Shining Sea, in old Frayonesse. A funny thing that our brothers and sisters, the Kuapoh, know it by its original name,’ Coronos chuckled.

  ‘Well, all that was many years ago now, how swiftly time flies. You should get some more sleep, my son, dawn is still an hour away and you will need your strength if you are to scout for goblins in the morning. You don’t want to come across a horde without rest,’ Coronos said, sinking down into the bed with a yawn, arm wrapped protectively around the orb, wishing he could have ended on a happier note but he was bone weary.

  ‘Yes, I shall try, though sleep seems far away,’ Asaph replied, but lay back down anyway and stared into the now cold hearth.

  ‘Oh and if on your journey you come across any greynight, I could do with some for my pipe,’ Coronos said, his voice already heavy with sleep.

  ‘Yes, Father,’ Asaph replied and then he too suddenly felt weary.

  Sleep came swiftly for both men but for Asaph so did the nightmares. In them all, the dark-haired girl came and she fled from monstrous black-scaled Dragons ridden by beings with red flaming eyes. He could never catch up with her and instead watched her fall from his empty hands to her doom.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Falling Into Darkness

  Issa did not remember hitting the water or anything thereafter except for the voices that told her not to go into the darkness. It seemed like a long time ago now. Her head was filled was a deafening rushing din that drowned out all sensible thoughts. She drifted in the noisy turmoil as if slipping backwards and forwards between sleep and waking.

  Eventually her mind returned, a little clearer than before, and thoughts began to form above the rushing thunder. She tried to move and a wave of pain flowed through her, scattering her thoughts and again she drifted away on the thundering noise.

  After a time, it seemed longer than before, her mind came back sharper and the noise lessened. Everything seemed brighter too, though she had not noticed the dark before. She tried to move again and the pain came but did not scatter her mind. Something sharp was digging into her side and she struggled to shift away from it. She rolled onto her back and more pain flooded over her.

  A groan came from somewhere far away though she knew it had come from her own lips.

  Slowly she opened her eyes. Bright white light blinded her and she shut them. She tried again but only squinted and through dark lashes made out a sky filled with white clouds and the odd patch of blue. The noise that had filled her head sounded like the sea scraping on stones though it was no longer deafening.

  Issa remembered jumping. I was falling, the raven…the Dragon! Her throat constricted painfully but she could see no Dragon in the sky. I jumped from the cliff, have I died? Is this the Middle Realm? She wondered. Was this the place all souls passed through when they left the body on their journey back to the Source of All? But where was the golden light the religious texts spoke of? Where were the people robed in clouds?

  Issa opened her eyes fully now they no longer hurt so much in the light.

  I did not die! I must have survived the fall.

  But what state was her broken body in? She shifted a little. Her whole body hurt. She lifted her right arm, pain at the shoulder; her left arm was the same but she could still lift them. Her wrists and fingers were painful to move and felt swollen. She tried to move a leg and pain exploded in her stomach as if she had been punched there a hundred times. But she could wiggle her toes with no pain, flexing the whole foot was only mildly sore.

  Carefully she shifted her elbows underneath her, propping herself up a little, though her back complained as much as her front. A wave of nausea swirled in her stomach but she fought to keep herself up.

  When it passed she opened her eyes again. The thunder was not in the sky but did indeed come from the sea rolling back and forth upon the tiny pebbled cove she was in. She had been washed into a black shingled beach of no more than five paces squared. Boulders three times her size bordered it and behind her a sheer cliff face reached up far into the sky.

  Now and again a thick dark cloud cast a shadow down upon her.
The great din must have been a storm, she thought, but the blue patches in the sky were growing and the storm had passed away. Night must have come and gone but how many? She could not know. She did not even know what time of day it was. Was she even on Little Kammy anymore?

  Very slowly she eased herself up to sitting and hugged her knees as close as her stomach would let her. Carefully she felt her bruised and battered body and was relieved to find nothing broken though her skin was black and blue and her back ached close to agony. She shivered under her cold damp clothes that were torn and ragged.

  If only she could just get up and go back to her warm home. She swallowed hard remembering her mother, her friends. Her head fell onto her knees and the tears came, the sobs shaking her despite the pain. It seemed the weather mimicked her tears and heavy rain droplets splattered upon her, soaking her through once more.

  For a long time she stayed there sobbing even though the tears had run dry. Why had she been spared once more to suffer this pain alone? She could not survive and yet she was unable to even take her own life. There was no way off this beach, there was no way out. She would die here alone from starvation and exposure.

  The rain began to slow until it ceased completely. Sunlight burst through the clouds for a moment and disappeared but Issa did not notice. Eventually all the clouds cleared and warm sunlight fell unhindered upon her pebbled beach bringing warmth to her battered body. Like the clouds, the sobs subsided and Issa raised her head.

  She swallowed hard; her throat was dry as a desert. The pebbles shone like gems in the sunlight and a soft mist rose as the rainwater began to evaporate. Suddenly survival washed away her sorrows as she recognised her fast disappearing drinkable water. She stuffed her long hair into her mouth and sucked the slightly salty rainwater from it into her parched throat.

  She glanced about, needing more. To her right was a shallow concaved rock steaming with rainwater. She strained her eyes up the cliff face and spied the trickle of water, too much to only be caused by the rain, but not enough to be a stream. With her back and stomach aching all the way she crawled towards it, the pebbles further bruising her already bruised knees. She cupped her sore hands into the trickling water and sucked from them noisily. The water was cold and though it tasted earthy it was clear and not salty. She could feel strength returning with each mouthful. Again and again she drank from her cupped hands until she was full.

  She sat back on her haunches and took in her surroundings again. Perhaps it was the trauma or perhaps it was the loneliness and desperateness of her situation, but for a moment spiritual thoughts flooded her mind in a way that they had never done before. It is as if the Great Goddess has spared me, her thoughts went, or perhaps my own spirit is too strong to leave yet.

  The soul and spirit were the business of Priests and Priestesses, and she never thought much about it, but now it seemed important. Did Ma go into the light of the Goddess? Is her soul safe now? She wondered. I had never thought about a life beyond this one until now. Why has my life been spared twice? Is this some game of a cruel god to make me suffer? Seems more like bad luck than good!

  If I am to survive how then will I get off this cursed beach and where will I go?

  Issa let out a long sigh and slowly inched herself up to standing, leaning heavily against the cliff face. She looked down and noticed she barely had a shadow. It must be close to midday, she thought, glad of the sun’s growing heat.

  Her eyes came to rest upon the thick green seaweed clinging to the rocks a foot from the ground. The tide is out, maybe going out further, but soon it would come back in and from the looks of it, she thought, there would be little more than a three foot square beach to stand on.

  Issa looked from the calmer ocean back to the seaweed. Farmer Ged used to put that or something like it on his fields, she thought, recognising the bulbous dark green pods and teal coloured fronds. He had called it “Mavy’s kelp” and once made a soup out of it for them, her stomach churned from the memory of the foul taste. Farmer Ged had liked it, though he never made it again for her and Ma and she couldn’t remember the name anymore. But you could eat it raw.

  Her stomach churned again in warning but she ignored it and shuffled along the rocks. She reached out and gripped a long slippery strand but it would not come free and her fingers slipped off covered in greenish slime. Unfazed she picked up a pebble with a sharpish edge and hacked and pulled. A handful came free suddenly and she nearly fell.

  Gingerly she held one glistening olive-like pod to her lips. It smelt salty and rotting but her mind was set. She bit down and the pod came free more easily than she had expected. She chewed once, quickly decided against it, and swallowed, glad for the saltiness disguising the foul taste.

  She waited for a minute with her eyes clenched shut. But her stomach did not complain or try to throw it back up and it wasn’t nearly as foul as she remembered. Nothing happened. She got two more ready and then swiftly ate them. Still no adverse reaction and she allowed herself a small smile. It would be wise to eat no more yet, she thought, and gathered together six more pods for later, slipping them into her last intact trouser pocket next to the money pouch, surprised and glad to find it still there.

  Her body began to feel a little stronger after ingesting the seaweed and Issa hoped it would not be the end of her. If only I had made it to Kammam, she thought, there would be all the food I could wish for there. Her eyes settled upon the glistening ocean. If I survived the fall I cannot have gone far without drowning, she reasoned, though far enough for the Dragon to give her up for dead that was sure.

  The tide was a strong northerly flowing current around Little Kammy and all the Isles of Kammy, and warm too for it flowed straight up from the Kingdom of Fire far in the south. The current on the exposed west side of the island flowed faster than the east creating a gentle eastward flow on the north side of the island.

  As she looked, the sea was definitely moving from left to right and there was little wind to affect it. The sun had moved from behind her to the left, so she must be looking mostly north, she thought. If anything the tide had carried her further up the island in the way she had been heading. She couldn’t be sure and thinking made her head hurt but hope sparked in her heart. What if Kammam lay just over the rocks? Grinning she began to haul her aching body over the rocks.

  Her smile faded when she reached the top for her eyes rested upon nothing but more massive boulders and sheer cliff faces, there was not even another little pebbled cove like the one she was in. She sagged, the flame of hope spluttered weakly in her belly but it didn’t die completely. She was sure she was right about her direction and that must mean Kammam cannot be too far away.

  With the tide flowing this way, could she swim? Her arms ached at the thought. But the tide became more slack and the sea its gentlest towards the port town, which was why the port was built there anyway. The sea only lapped at the rocks here. What if she half pulled herself along the rocks and half swam? The water was warm this time of year and the sun was out to help.

  She looked down into the ocean. It was crystal clear and dark blue. A shoal of tiny silver fish darted amongst the billowing seaweed. Had it been any other time of her life, diving in would be positively inviting. She looked about her but there didn’t seem much choice. What if the wind picked up? What if there was another storm? Sitting out here when the darkness came really didn’t appeal either.

  She pulled off her ripped shoes, tucked them into the top of her trousers and reached a toe stiffly down towards the water. It was cool but not cold. Before she could think too much about it she slipped down the rock and into the water. She gasped and her aching body protested but after a moment of treading water the cold became quite refreshing. Already the tide was trying to move her along and she realised floating was easier then walking when it felt like every bone in your body was broken.

  With one hand always reaching for a rock she slowly swam, slowly floated and slowly pulled herself along the coast. Her arms w
ere far too painful to swim well but she could doggie paddle a little and flutter-kick if she did short gentle movements. It was slow going but at least she was moving.

  In parts the rocks jutted out too far and the sea was rougher around them forcing her to swim harder and then it was difficult to get back in close to the coast. This happened only a few times, though she struggled to catch her breath for a good while after.

  After an hour or so waves of exhaustion flowed through her limbs, and where her clothes rubbed her skin it stung painfully there. But there was no stopping, she had to go on. There did appear another pebbled cove like the one before and though sorely tempted to stop, the slowly sinking sun pushed her onwards.

  The pebbled coves became more frequent after another hour. Her lips felt swollen from constantly being in salt water and her throat was parched again. How much further could Kammam be? What if this was not Little Kammy anymore?

  As the doubts began to creep into her mind Issa began to do something she had never consciously done before, she began to pray. She prayed to Feygriene the Goddess of the Sun to keep her warm, she prayed to Zanufey the Goddess of the Night and of the Waters to keep the night at bay and the water carrying her safely, she prayed to Woetala the Goddess of the Forest and her lover Doon to keep her spirit strong and sharp, and she prayed to the Source of all Creation to lead her always to the light. Mostly she knew she prayed not out of devotion but to keep herself awake, the cold at bay, and her mind from wandering into madness.

  She swam through another rough patch of choppy water, aching arms splashing noisily. As she came closer into the shore again she blinked twice in disbelief, surely it was a mirage. Ahead the rocks became pebbles and then a dark sandy stretch of beach at the end of which stood a crumbling building and massive stone wall. It was no mirage. Issa’s heart leapt in her chest as she looked upon the harbour walls of Kammam, the spark of hope flared into joy and she kicked hard to reach the pebbled shore, her aching body forgotten.