by A. R. Cook
David felt a tearing in his chest. “Why the sudden rush to be rid of me?”
Acacia paused with her paw on the door. “You’ve done more than you needed to do. If you were here because of the oracle, or destiny, then you’ve fulfilled your purpose. You’ve helped me fulfill my purpose, too. But this isn’t the world you were meant for. You must go back.” She threw open the door of the wagon.
Both Acacia and David gaped dumbfounded as the door opened up not to Yofune’s undersea lair, but a dark expanse of space, stretching out to eternity. As far as they could see was the clearest, purest midnight, speckled with diamond-mimicking stars and hundreds of full, porcelain-smooth moons hanging like lanterns in various colors. It was all so still, so untainted in its clarity and serenity, that it did not feel quite real.
Acacia tried to slam the door shut, but then the walls and floor of the wagon fell away, fading off into nothingness. They were standing on the top of a precipice, with broken columns of stone arising around them, and the ground they stood on was a polished surface with archaic symbols carved into it. Below, constellations swirled downwards into what appeared to be an inky whirlpool. Beyond the blackness, there was the faintest hint of light from the other side, but it was muddled from the swirling of the abyss. All around, various stars moved together in the shapes of dancers, animals, and strange creatures, all to the rhythm of some music that could not be heard.
“What just happened?” David managed to say. “Where are we?”
Acacia was pale, but not from any Shade blight—from panic. “I couldn’t get you safely away fast enough,” she whispered, taking hold of David’s arm in a tight grip.
A heavy mantle of frost washed over them, and David knew they were not alone. There was a presence here, one he couldn’t decipher yet, but out of the blackness of sky he could see a form coming towards them. All he could make out was the long trail of wispy smoke that flowed around the figure, the penetrating eyes of silver, and the enormous wings of glossy obsidian that were far too large for the feminine frame that supported them.
David did not need to ask who this shadowy figure was. He knew it was the one responsible for all of Acacia’s years of suffering. The one who had killed other magical beings in order to steal their gifts.
Acacia bared her teeth at this menacing force approaching them. “It’s as the oracle foretold. She’s come for you.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Acacia, wait!” David whispered, as the sphinx prepared to lunge at the descending goddess of night. “Don’t do something you’ll regret. She could kill you.”
“She’s been doing that for most of my life,” Acacia pointed out, snarling.
“I know she’s put you through a lot of pain, and you want revenge—”
“Revenge would be a secondary satisfaction,” the sphinx hissed. “It’s hardly why I’ll rip her throat out if she dares to come near you.”
David had not forgotten the last line of the oracle. Nyx was coming to claim the one who saved Acacia from the Shade. It was why Acacia had tried to speed David away to safety, back to Paris in the modern civilized world where ancient goddesses held no authority. Attempting to outsmart or outrun a prophecy, however, had proven to be futile.
At the top of each column, a glowing orb popped into life, radiating a bluish-purple glow. The light cast a clearer picture on the environment they were in. David had seen pictures before of this kind of place. In ancient Greek and Roman temples, there was often a small room kept from the public where a cult image of a god was kept, reserved for priests and acolytes. This place reflected such an adyton, and now he could see a pedestal at one end of the floor surrounded by a pool of water. As soon as he saw the pedestal, the dark shape of their host alighted onto it, like a great vulture upon a perch.
David did not want to look at her, but he knew he had to. He watched with fear as the large glossy wings unfolded, spreading open until they enveloped all of the adyton. Exposed from her feathery cocoon was a woman of infinite beauty, her raven hair cascading down in a waterfall of lush locks, her skin as pale as moonlight, her face as fine as gleaming marble. Her eyes had all the soul-piercing glamour of a dream, but behind them was the icy gloom of a heart-stopping nightmare. Her body was swathed in a wispy indigo essence, which trailed off down her legs into a flowing twisting train of a gown that made it appear that she had no feet. She had the hint of a smile, but that little hint was more deadly than venom.
David was too awestruck by the goddess before him to react. Acacia stared wide-eyed at Madam Nyx, who in many ways looked like the sphinx, only rather than a feral cat-like exoticness, the goddess was raw power, an ethereal beauty that could will even the coldest heart to desire her. Acacia growled fiercely, pulling David behind her to guard him from the malicious presence before them.
Nyx eyed David, with a gaze that froze him in place. She held out her hand towards him. “Return my Shade to me.”
David realized he still had the Singing Turquoise. He hesitated, but he knew that it was a bad idea to keep a primordial deity waiting.
“You have rendered my Shade useless in that stone. It is imprisoned forever. Even I cannot remove it. But it is mine. You will return it to me.” Nyx kept her hand out, unwavering.
David stepped out from behind Acacia, who gave a soft whimper of warning. He advanced as far towards Nyx as he felt was safe. He placed the Singing Turquoise on the floor before her, and quickly retreated a few paces.
With a flick of her index finger, Nyx summoned the stone to rise into the air and come to rest in her palm. She tightened her hand around it, and lowered her arm. She returned her attention to her guests. “I have not brought mortals to my home for many a century. However, it is necessary that I deal with you. I have been waiting patiently for a long time to gather the essence of the world’s last living sphinx. Such a creature’s will is practically impenetrable, and only the strongest of my Shades could stand a chance to break it. I hardly have the strength now to begin the process over again.”
David should have been focused on Nyx’s threat, but instead he looked over at Acacia. “You’re the only sphinx left? In the whole world?”
Acacia gave him a look that said, I can’t believe you’re concerned with that just now!
David turned back to Nyx, a swell of bravery encouraging him to speak. “You would kill the last sphinx on earth, to have her knowledge? You’ve brought about the deaths of many just to have their talents. Why would you do that? I thought gods were supposed to be perfect already.”
There was ice in Nyx’s stare. Despite David’s audacity, she spoke with continued calmness. “I have grown weaker in my time,” she confessed, “and my current cycle of existence is drawing to a close. Thus I have been procuring the needed skills and gifts from the remaining creatures of the unseen world. There is no species, from your world or any other, that lasts forever. Their special gifts would die out, to be lost to time. I only wish to acquire them for my heir.”
David was struck dumb for a moment. “Your … heir, Madam Nyx?”
Nyx pulled back a flowing fold of her gown, like a cascade of water ebbing away from shore. Within the chasms of her gown, a small being was revealed, a fragile boy who appeared no more than ten years old. He had the same dark hair and fine features as the goddess, and two of the tiniest gray wings emerged from his shoulder blades. Yet there was an emptiness to his eyes, as if he was lost. He was gaunt and frail, a fledging unable to leave his nest.
David regarded the boy, who glanced back briefly, before his empty eyes wandered off. “You have many children, Madam Nyx, so I am told. Surely you could have chosen someone like Hypnos as your beneficiary, and not had to go through the trouble of harming so many innocents?”
A gentle laugh escaped Nyx’s throat. “This young child is not my son. He is my incarnation. He is what will be left of me once my current form flickers out of existence. He is my legacy. So as you can understand, he is much more valuable to me than a son or da
ughter.”
David looked at the boy again, with newfound respect and dread. It was amazing to think that the tiny boy sitting there, seeming so detached, would grow to be as powerful as Nyx herself. But now he understood why Nyx was collecting the best traits from the magical world’s finest. Her incarnation had not turned out the way she had planned.
“Odd that you mention my son Hypnos,” Nyx continued. “After all this time, he has finally proven helpful to me. For, you see, he may guard the realm of Sleep, but I am its ultimate overseer. Through him, I was able to see how you used the dream to free the sphinx from my Shade. Unusual, I admit. I believe no one else would have possessed the ability to use a Singing Stone in that manner. But you have always had a profound connection to your dreams, David. I’ve seen quite a few of them for some time now.”
The color drained from David’s face. “You’ve been watching me?”
“I watch many. But, yes, you in particular I have kept an eye on. The events that have led you here were no coincidence.” She turned her gaze to Acacia. “It is delightful to see you again, Acacia. I imagine you haven’t recognized me yet.”
Acacia tilted her head to the side, in bafflement.
Nyx shifted her form into one of an older woman, wearing the white outfit of a priestess. The orbs of the room shifted their light to a warmer, yellow light. The new Nyx looked almost inviting, a grandmotherly figure.
Nyx’s changed appearance had a quick effect on Acacia. The fur on the back of her neck bristled, and her eyes widened. “No … you! It was you! Why … you deceived me!”
David shot his eyes back and forth between the two creatures. Before he could even ask, Nyx returned to her true appearance and said, “I did not deceive you. Has not everything in the oracle I told you come to pass? Did I not foretell that there was one who would free you from my Shade? Don’t think I gave you that oracle in jest. I cannot change what is meant to be. I was deeply enraged to foresee the events that would unfold, that I had not looked farther into the future to see how all my efforts on you would go to waste.”
Nyx was the priestess that gave Acacia her oracle? David thought, stunned. Then that means …
“No, I did not design the oracle, or its outcome,” Nyx answered David’s thoughts. “But it has foretold of one prospect that is within my power to control.” She floated down from her pedestal, hovering atop the pool of water. “I lost a lifetime’s worth of work and waiting because of you, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Even though I tried to indirectly intervene by employing Nico to my cause, I could not alter what I had prophesized. But I have also seen what course of action I am allowed to take with you.”
Acacia lunged between David and the goddess, snapping her teeth at Nyx and growling a sincere threat. “You will not claim him! All that will come of harming him, is my devoted promise to make you suffer!”
Nyx shook her head. “Love does make even the most intelligent of creatures blind and stupid. There is nothing you can do to protect him. You are strong, but you are merely mortal. My oracle has already predicted that I will claim him. This is what is meant to be. If I cannot alter events, neither can you.”
“No! I can do something about it!” Acacia turned her back to Nyx, and embraced David in a bone-cracking hug. She spread her wings, as if it would be an impenetrable wall. “Because you couldn’t predict everything! You didn’t say anything about how he’d risk his life for someone he barely knows, because it was the right thing to do. Or how he’d save my family from Nico. Or that I would …” She paused, as she tried to beat back the emotion rising up in her. Her voice got very quiet, oozing malice. “You can’t take him. I won’t let you.”
David’s thoughts were going in about a million different directions at that moment. The one he kept coming back to was that if Acacia stood in Nyx’s way, she would be killed. David whispered to the sphinx, “Acacia, it’s all right. Let me go.”
Acacia looked at David with tearful eyes. “What? No! No, you’ve done nothing to be punished like this!”
“Acacia, let go of me.”
The sphinx went rigid, but she relinquished. David walked past her and stepped towards Nyx. “Madam Nyx, if your intent is to claim me, then you can have me. But you must promise that you will not harm Acacia or her family in any way, ever. I’m the one who opposed you. Your anger should be taken out on me.”
Nyx studied David for a good solid minute. David started to wonder if the goddess was waiting for him to crumble under the pressure. Without a word, Nyx lifted her hand, and the pool at her feet began to overflow, seeping up onto the floor where Acacia and David stood. Acacia was forcefully pulled down, her four paws rooted to the floor as the water iced up around her legs, locking her in place. David gasped as he felt the painfully cold water envelope his legs up to mid-calf, icing over. The water did not stop there; it continued up his body, cocooning him, drenching him in the stark numbness of night. It permeated through his clothes, through his skin, into the trails of his veins, soaking up the warmth of his blood and chilling it, causing everything inside to ache and scream. He struggled to keep his head up, but the water was crawling up around his chest, around his neck. He could just make out Acacia’s muffled words of anguish calling for him through the water clogging his ears … and then it washed over his face …
Nyx felt someone tugging on her gown.
It is very hard to surprise a god, particularly one with the gift of prophecy. Yet as Nyx looked down at the small boy at her side, she saw something in his face she had yet to ever see. There was no longer emptiness in the boy’s eyes. He stared fixedly at her, pulling at her dress, and he shook his head.
Now where did you learn that? Nyx thought. Certainly not from me … She looked back at David, who was slowly succumbing to her power. Is this mortal boy truly so strange, that he has awoken this sense of compassion in you? I was sure that I had cast out such frail emotions from my being.
She turned back to her precious incarnation. “You must watch and learn, little one. This is a taste of the power you will inherit from me. Watch and bar yourself from emotion, for tenderheartedness will make you weak. You must wield your power without mercy.”
Once again, Nyx was taken aback as the incarnation grabbed the wrist of her free hand, holding it with more strength than he appeared to have. There was definitely power behind it, a shadow of her own, but his face was now stone-solid with anger.
“Stop it,” the incarnation ordered.
Nyx froze, for this was the first time in as long as she could remember that someone else was giving her a command—and she was startled. She smirked. How can I refuse an order from myself?
She lowered her hand, and the water receded back into the pool, freeing both the mortal boy and the sphinx. David wheezed for air, and shivered from the lingering chill. He dropped to his knees, and Acacia, also freed, rushed to him, wrapping a wing around him for warmth.
Silliness, to be moved by such pathetic things. Nyx took hold of a length of her dress, and wrapped it around her incarnation like a blanket. The incarnation grew tired, yawned, and nestled down into the tide of her gown, buried away in the soft essence that was comforting solely to him. Nyx thought: You were not created as I had expected, and you disappoint me in many ways. But you have at least shown you can command respect, and you continue to surprise even me … that is worth something.
Nyx moved across the surface of the pool, and hovered close to David and Acacia. The sphinx hissed in defiance, but Nyx paid her no mind. She caressed David’s cheek with bitterly cold fingertips. “All my oracle said was that I would claim you, but it did not say it would be today, nor tomorrow. You’re still young … not quite ripe. I don’t have much use for a boy who is full of foolishness, and whose bravery is encouraged by unchangeable prophecies and dumb luck. Perhaps once life has wizened you to hardship and suffering, maybe you can be of use to me. For now, what I need is the special cunning that I was going to harvest. Unfortunately, all my work on the
sphinx is undone. What will I do now?”
David gulped, expecting that she meant to extract his cunning, but he could see a wicked gleam in Nyx’s eye that spoke that she had other plans already. Abruptly, a fold of her gown whipped violently, and out of it rolled Nico, looking like he had just come fresh out of being trampled by horses.
The fox-man coughed as he sat up, dusting off his coat. He winced as he moved his bruised body. “It’s about time! Those barbaric humans, haven’t they heard that twenty against one is poor sportsmanship? And that big stupid lizard, wait until I get my hands on—” He looked up, to see David and Acacia on one side, and Madam Nyx on the other. He was confounded, although he tried to not appear so. “Nyx, your blessedness, I see you have brought my cousin and her savage plaything to be dealt with. I did what you told me, as I’m sure you know, but that scoundrel got in my way, and—”
“And you did not retrieve my Shade, as I asked of you,” Nyx finished for him.
The Teumessian’s eyes were horror-filled, and he scrambled backwards. “No, no, your holiness! I … I was going to! But he had this mystical stone, and it has powers, and he used them against me! I assure you, I did everything I could to fulfill your request. I cannot help it if—”
“We agreed that if you helped me gain the sphinx’s knowledge, then you would become the cleverest being in the world. But you did not prevent the boy from confining my Shade to the Singing Stone. It would take too much time to begin the process on the sphinx again, for her will is healed and strong, too strong to break. Your will, however … it would take only a short time to unravel.”
