Shadows of Prophecy

by Rachel Lee

  8

  All sound in the cavern vanished except for the singing of the clan mothers. Even the flames, leaping higher, seemed to dance. The reddish glow from the fire caught on the stalactites, making it seem that bloody teeth surrounded them, ready to bite.

  The figure continued to grow out of the flames, yet it was not of the flames. It was the figure of a young woman, dressed in white. A beautiful woman with cascading blond hair and eyes the color of a midsummer sky. Taller she grew, until she towered over them gracefully, so that all in the cavern might see her.

  The hem of her long dress appeared to ruffle on a breeze not borne of the fire from which she sprang. In her hands she held a small bouquet of white roses, and on her lips was the soft smile of love.

  She reached out one hand and clasped another’s, a figure that coalesced beside her. He was tall, taller than she, and his face was marked with both love and youth. Long dark hair he had, and an innocence about him that made the heart ache.

  He drew closer to the lady, and their lips met, sealing a kiss that whispered of eternity.

  Then another appeared, a fair and beautiful man whose face also shone with youth, and overshadowed the dark man. But on his face there was no love, only lust and anger.

  An instant later the fair and beautiful young man wrested the woman away from the darker one. She struggled against him, but only briefly, for he killed her with a savage blow of his sword before she could defend herself.

  Then the images from the fire became ugly and dark, a quickening kaleidoscope of war, of death. At the head of an army the dark man sought vengeance, his sword raised high. He was met on the field of battle by the beautiful golden man and another army.

  The view changed again, filled with fallen bodies, and weeping men and women. A city burned.

  Then a circle of eleven appeared, eleven women who joined hands and began to sing together.

  A new vision, of fire raining from the sky, of a city blasted until nothing was left but a plain of black glass as far as the eye could see.

  Then back to the circle of women, who stood tearfully, with their heads bowed. Then, one by one, they dropped each other’s hands and looked around as if waking from a dreadful dream.

  As one, they crumpled to the ground in despair, as if they hated what they had done.

  And one by one they were gently carried away by the Anari.

  Finally a huge temple began to rise from the flames, carved by Anari hands, guided in every detail by the women from the circle, women who now looked haunted and full of grief.

  “Anahar,” said Eiehsa, her voice rising above the other mothers. “The temple that was given to all of us to keep the knowledge alive. The temple of atonement. The temple we guard with our lives.”

  Turning, she cast her gaze upon Sara and Tess. “You have been sent to learn the mysteries. We have showed you the tale behind them.”

  Her voice rose, reaching even the farthest recesses of the cavern. “We have been chosen. We are the Guardians. Our lives are but grains of sand in the river of time, but the temple is eternal. It will be our salvation. Hearten yourselves, my brothers and sisters, for the fight for our freedom will be but the first step on the long road to defeat our ultimate enemy.”

  She pointed to fire again, flinging yet another small puff of sparkling dust, and the image of the fair and beautiful man rose again, now with his face twisted by hate. “Never forget he would see us all dead, for he has nothing to live for except power. Keep him in mind. He ended the First Age and would gladly end the second. He comes cloaked in beauty, with his heart full of death. He is Ardebal, Lord of Chaos!”

  For an instant the figure loomed over them all, threatening; then, in an eyeblink, everything returned to its natural state.

  The clan mothers sat, appearing exhausted; the fire settled back into its pit. Only the angry red teeth of the cave remained to remind them of what they had just seen.

  Tess felt a hand steal into hers and turned to see Sara. She squeezed the younger woman’s chilled fingers, hoping the gesture was reassuring. But in Sara’s eyes she read the same feeling that filled her own heart: How were the two of them supposed to do this impossible task that had just been set for them?

  Sara returned to find Tom still asleep on his pallet. For a moment his eyes flickered open, and it almost appeared as if they glowed orange, though she knew it was only the reflection of the fire’s glow. Still, his face was pale, and weakness was evident in his limbs.

  Acting on an impulse almost beyond her understanding, she cradled his head in her arms and opened her bodice, tucking his lips to her nipple. His response was equally instinctive, as he began to suckle in his sleep. Sara caught her breath, both from the pleasure of the touch and from the realization that she could feel liquid emerging from her breast, flowing into his mouth. For a moment she wondered how this could be, for she had never been with child and certainly never delivered one. Yet the moment seemed to fit with her heart’s call, and she closed her eyes and hummed a quiet tune as he nursed.

  “I have heard the tales of Ilduin succor, saved only for the lady’s mate and children,” Eiehsa whispered.

  Sara opened her eyes with a start, then caught her cry before it emerged as she looked into the old woman’s kind face.

  “Forgive me, Lady Sara,” Eiehsa said. “I did not mean to startle you. But not often does one witness a miracle, though many have my eyes beheld these past days. Still, this seems to me the greatest of all, for the love of the Ilduin was deep in legend, and their milk is said to heal even the most shattered soul.”

  “I know not why I did this,” Sara said, stroking Tom’s hair as he now slept at her breast. “I knew only that I must do it.”

  “That is often the way of love, Lady Sara. To ponder the reasons is often to miss the moment in its passing. You gave yourself into that moment, and even now color is returning to the young lad’s face. It was your love that he needed, Lady. Your love and the milk of your kindness. And that you gave. I would that we all gave so freely.”

  Sara smiled and bowed her head. “Thank you, Mother. Though I fear I am not worthy of such praise. It is neither effort nor sorrow to care for one I love so dearly. But can I carry that same burden for the world at large? For that is the burden which seems placed upon me, and upon Lady Tess. We are unskilled and can act only on the calling of the moment. I fear we shall need much more than that if we hope to prevail.”

  “Now, now,” Eiehsa said, reaching out to stroke her shoulder. “Tomorrow will be upon us soon enough, and in its coming it will bring troubles of its own. Fret not for those, my child. Simply care for Tom in this moment and trust your Ilduin blood to guide you in the next.”

  Sara felt Tom sag into a deeper sleep, and she gently fixed her bodice and lowered him to the pallet. Then she turned to Eiehsa, tears glistening in her eyes.

  “I fear I would slay a thousand souls to save him, Mother. As I watched the legend in the fire and recalled how I felt when Tom was wounded, I knew all too well why my sisters came together to mete such destruction. Love is a great thing, Mother. But it can also be a curse.”

  “That it can, Lady Sara,” Eiehsa said. “And it is upon each of us to choose which it will be. Ardebal’s love created the fire, Lady Sara. Your love creates healing.”

  “But also have I bled fire, Mother. When my own mother was murdered before my eyes, I bled Ilduin fire upon her killer and tormented him into his last moments. I am no goddess of life, and I know that. I pray that I also am no goddess of death.”

  “Your young heart carries a heavy load,” Eiehsa said, squeezing her hand. “The past and the future can crush you in their vice if you permit it. Perhaps the best that you can do is to banish both and live in the kindness of each moment. That is all any of us can do.”

  Sara sighed. “In this moment, then, I long for sleep. If you will pardon me?”

  “Of course, Lady,” Eiehsa said. “I too need rest, as do we all. Let us pray for a sleep that ca
rries us into the heart of Elanor and heals our pain.”

  “Or,” Sara said, “for a sleep that carries me into the heart of my darling Tom and nestles him forever in mine.”

  “Ahh,” Eiehsa cried softly, a wide smile breaking over her face. “To be young and in love again. It warms my old bones, child. Thank you.”

  With that, she left for the circle of her companions, and Sara slid in next to Tom, holding him to her, praying that his dreams would find her heart, as well.

  * * * *

  As others were falling asleep in the cavern, Tess made her way outside to find Archer. He proved to be but one of several who were standing guard over the cave and its occupants, but he stood apart. He always stood apart, she realized. In some indefinable way, he was separate.

  The thought of that loneliness filled her heart with a sorrowful ache as she approached him. He didn’t turn his head, didn’t take his eyes from the mountains and valleys he watched so intently, but he knew it was she.

  “Why do you not sleep with the others, Lady?”

  She paused, still six paces behind him. “Sleep eludes me,” she said finally, then crossed the distance to his side.

  He gave a brief nod but still failed to look at her. She watched his face, chiseled harsh by the starlight, cast in secrecy by the deep shadows around his eyes. He looked like a figure out of myth—or nightmare. Sometimes she found she wasn’t sure which. Nor did she care. The sight of him always struck a chord deep within her.

  “So,” he said, “you have seen the story of the end of the First Age.”

  “Aye.” She turned her gaze from him to look out over the shadowy rills of the mountains. “’Twas much as you told it.”

  “There is only one tale. It can be told in many forms, but there is only one tale.”

  She nodded, neither knowing nor caring whether he saw. “I find,” she said slowly, “that much as I thought I was confused and frightened when I awoke amidst the carnage of the caravan without memory, I grow more confused with each passing day, not more enlightened.”

  “’Tis always that way when one realizes that much is demanded of one…but exactly what that might be remains a mystery.”

  “Aye.” She sighed. “I’m also frightened. I’m frightened that I might fail when so much hope is placed in me.” Her fingers rose to caress the bag of stones around her neck.

  “We all share the same fear, my Lady,” he said, his voice a deep, quiet rumble. “This time was foretold for centuries, but foretold or not, I think none of us is prepared.”

  Tess might have laughed at that, except for the lock that dread held on her heart. “I fear for Tom.”

  Now he did glance at her. “Why? He appears to be recovering.”

  She gripped the stones tightly. “How did I get the stones back? I saw with my own two eyes as they sank into his flesh and sealed his wounds.”

  Archer shook his head. “I know not. I found them in your hands when you were unconscious after the healing. I returned them to the bag, and the bag to your neck.”

  “Did you see what they did to him?”

  Archer hesitated. “In all honesty, my Lady, I was distracted by the rain of fire from the sky.”

  Would she could laugh, for somehow his response was so understated it seemed to cry out for humor. But laughter had deserted her, at least for now.

  “I don’t know how that happened, either.”

  “You spoke the last prayer of Theriel.” Now he turned toward her, facing her, his posture almost accusing. “If you cannot remember anything before the caravan was slaughtered, how is it you recall a prayer that has not been spoken in centuries?”

  Tess shook her head, feeling even more frightened, and now frustrated, as well. “I do not recall my words.”

  “I do. They were spoken with Theriel’s dying breath, calling her sisters to her, to help her. The result was the utter destruction of Dederand.”

  “The plain of glass,” she said, remembering the visions in the fire.

  “Aye, that was the result. Such power was never before unleashed, nor since. Until you.”

  “But…” Her throat clogged, and she could not speak in her own defense.

  He surprised her then, by reaching out to touch her shoulder. “I am not saying you cast down the rain of fire. I am saying only that you spoke Theriel’s last prayer, and your sisters, wherever they may be, answered and saved us from the Bozandari.”

  Her mind reeling, Tess spread her hands helplessly. “I know nothing of this. For the sake of everyone, I must somehow learn! I want to see no more blasted cities, even in tales told around a fire.”

  His arm moved around her, drawing her close to his side, within the shelter of his cape. The warmth was welcome, the comfort even more so.

  “That is why we go to Anahar, my Lady,” he said, his words soft enough that they reached only her ears. “There at the main temple, all the secrets of the Ilduin are inscribed. ’Tis said that the adept can learn merely by walking through it and pondering the story’s many meanings. It is, I am told, a story that tells itself across the ages, through time, a key to the powers of the Ilduin.”

  “And then what?” she asked, a bitterness near tears filling her.

  “Then we do what we must.”

  “I don’t wish to create any more ugliness!”

  “At times, Lady,” he said his voice laden with pain, “we are given no choice. We cannot let Ardred rule. You saw him through Lantav. You have brushed against his evil. He would turn this entire world and all in it to dust to satisfy his lust for power and revenge.”

  Remembering the moments of which Archer spoke, Tess shuddered. Finally, in a wisp of a voice, she replied, “No. We cannot let him succeed. But what did I do to Tom when I healed him?”

  “That I cannot say. It is the first time I have ever seen cleansing Ilduin fire heal. He took that fire within him and was healed.” He repeated it as if it still amazed him. “Many are the ways of Ilduin healing, but never before has it been by fire.”

  “I fear it.”

  Archer nodded slowly and drew her even closer. “I suspect Tom will not be the same. But he must be one of the purest beings ever to have walked this earth to have survived your fire. Take heart in that, my Lady.”

  There was little enough to take heart in, she thought. Once again her fingers tightened around the bag of stones, a burden growing heavier with each passing day.

  All of a sudden, a voice called from the cave. “My Lord? My Lady? Lady Sara begs you to come. Tom Downey has awakened.”

  9

  Tom sat up, leaning against a boulder that Sara had padded with a blanket for his comfort. His eyes remained closed as he ate the spoonfuls of gruel she fed him. The rest of the cavern was quiet as the Anari slept, and the fire was beginning to burn lower, though its warmth lingered in the huge cave.

  Tess knelt opposite Sara and reached out to touch the young man’s forehead. “How do you feel, Tom?”

  Between mouthfuls he answered, “Achy, but apparently much better than I was, from what Sara has told me.”

  Archer, too, settled beside Tom, close to his feet. “You were all but dead, lad.”

  “I am certainly not dead now.” He waved aside the gruel, his eyes still closed. “I actually feel fairly well, considering. Not quite ready to lift a boulder, but I might manage to lift Sara.”

  The words brought a smile to Sara’s lips. A smile so full of love and longing and relief that the two who saw it felt the same in their hearts.

  “However,” Tom continued, “I cannot open my eyes. The light is too bright.”

  Sara caught her breath. The cavern was dim, even the fangs hanging from the ceiling barely reflecting the ruddy glow now. “Can you see at all?”

  “Yes, but…it’s almost as if I’m trying to look into the sun.”

  Carefully Tess leaned forward and touched his eyelid. “Brace yourself, Tom. I am going to look.”

  He nodded. “I’m ready.”

  She
lifted his eyelid and felt a bolt of shock that ran the length of her spine. His irises appeared to have become colorless—almost, but not quite, like panes of glass. Certainly at a glance it might appear that he had no iris at all, only pupil. And somewhere in the depths of that dark pupil, she caught a glimpse of the fire that had saved him.

  Jerking her hand back, she let his lid fall. After a moment, she steadied herself enough to speak. “We must find a way to deal with this so you can see, Tom.”

  “I would be grateful, Lady Tess. I am useless enough without being blind.”

  Archer squeezed his ankle. “You have never for a moment been useless, lad. And I suspect this change in your vision will prove in some way to be a benefit.”

  Tom laughed, but it was an unsteady sound. “As long as I do not need someone to guide me every step of the way, I shall not complain.”

  Sara touched his cheek. “My love, if I must guide you every step for the rest of your days, I shall only give thanks that you are with me still.”

  Tess felt the prick of tears behind her lids and turned to Archer. “I need a strip of leather about this wide.” She indicated the measurement with her fingers. “And it must be long enough to tie around Tom’s head.”

  Archer nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “I will also need an awl, Sara, if you have one. I have seen you mending clothes. But it will need to be sturdy enough to pierce leather.”

  “I do not have one,” Sara said. “But perhaps one of the Anari…”

  “I’ll get one,” Ratha said, having been awakened by the quiet discussion. “Ours are fashioned from the hardest of stones and will certainly suffice for your needs.”

  “Thank you,” Tess said.

  “My beautiful Sara,” Tom said, his eyes still closed, reaching up to take her hand. “I feared that never again would I hear your voice. And yet, in my dreams, I knew you had not been harmed.”

  “My only pain was that of thinking you might not survive,” Sara said. “And that was greater than the worst pain I have ever felt.”