The Circle of Six: Emily's Quest (Legends of Eostra)

by Sanders, Dan

  The Emperor howled, “Halt, in the name of Eostra.”

  Daimon leaned on his heels and stepped backwards to the door. The Emperor lifted his spindly grey hand. The crystal door glowed at his command and slammed shut. Daimon banged the blade on the door, each stroke ringing across the chamber. He turned like a scared animal. The Emperor smiled at Daimon and said, “You are not our enemy, for now. Do not change my mind this early.”

  At the click of the Emperor’s finger the blade in Daimon’s hand hummed, ripped itself from his fingers and flew across the room and back into the guard’s hand. Almost as an afterthought, the Emperor waved the back of his hand towards Daimon; and the once peaceful green wall blinked with a black energy that detonated and threw Daimon and Noogie across the room and onto the bed.

  Chapter 5

  Eostra

  SOMEWHERE IN THE ADROS MOUNTAINS,

  ANNWYN

  Emily woke on her back, shivering. I must be dead, she thought. That was the only explanation for what she saw. The sky was a faint pink, not like a sunset with variable shades, but a single smooth perfect pink as even as the snow around her. She figured it was morning since a pale blue sun peeked over the horizon. She had never seen a sky and sun with such eerily beautiful colours.

  The cold snow silently stretched across hills and valleys, butting up to enormous white mountains. Trees lined a frozen river that slithered into the horizon, their withered grey bodies sagging under the weight of the white powder. Sun sparkled off icy crystal ornaments that drifted on the wispy morning breeze.

  Emily was relieved to see trees. She didn’t like being on the ground and decided she would fly into the trees and get a better view.

  She shook ice from her beak, tried to stand, leaned on her wing for support and screamed. Agony shot through her wing to her beak. Her damaged wing collapsed under the weight and her beak stuck in the snow. She tried again to stand and leaned on her other wing for support. Her claws stood firm on the tight carpet of snow underneath. Gingerly, she lifted her left wing and gasped.

  Matted blood dripped from the feathers of the bottom half of her broken wing. Droplets of fresh blood covered the snow. Panic gripped her again and her mind flashed back to her capture in the town with Noogie and that poor boy. Noogie. The thought calmed her. She took deep breaths, and swinging her pale beak side to side, tried to find Noogie and the boy.

  Where were they? They were just inside a cave, facing a mob of angry human boys. She’d only wanted to help.

  Winds of wispy white swept across the snow and blocked her vision. She shook her head. Her eyes were playing tricks. Still a pink sky, snow, no Noogie, and no human boy. She wrapped her good wing about her belly.

  An ice-wind whistled through the desolate valley, biting through her waterlogged feathers. Maybe she wasn’t dreaming. Shivering, she pondered her options. What monster circle had they fallen through? She was glad the mob of boys had not hurt them, but she had obviously been whisked away to a foreign land, one of the lands that Kadesha the brood navigator always talked of. She had to get to the top of a hill and find shelter.

  Emily stuck her beak into the wind and tried to sense what was in the air. She shook her beak again. Her senses were dull, perhaps from the fall. Being closed off from her new environment scared her. She was known, even picked on, for her senses and land connection. But here she sensed no form of animal life, not even other birds. Grounded and blinded from predators she pulled her worn wings tight to her body and started the lonely trek to the hilltop before her.

  Her spindly legs were not designed for walking let alone tramping uphill in snow. It was almost midday when she reached the hilltop. She looked behind and groaned.

  She had covered very little distance. Bread-crumbs of her blood and feathers lined the sodden path of white. If she had flown, such a pocket-sized distance would have been covered in a blink. Her wing was numb from the shoulder joint down. She peered from the top of the mound she had scaled and saw in the distance a small cluster of trees surrounding a rocky cave next to the mountain.

  She could use it as a sanctuary where she could heal and learn to fly again. She bent forward and scooped up a beakful of snow, letting it melt in her mouth, the refreshing ice water sliding down her gullet.

  The blue sun was setting behind the lonely white-capped trees when Emily reached the safety of the ridge. The wind had picked up. A single gust of icy air puffed into Emily’s face, bullying her. Her beak reached for the air stolen from her chest. Unsatisfied, another stronger gust grabbed Emily’s little red frame and blew her across the snow, wings and feet spread, like a red spinning-wheel, before landing on her broken wing again. She lay still for a long time, quietly crying.

  When death didn’t take her, Emily lifted her head to sense for Noogie or the boy. Nothing. Just icy air. An aching hunger wove into her worries. She could hardly lift her wings from dragging on the frosty ground. As she finally waddled into the bushes under the ridge, she bumped into a pile of snow that covered a tall bush, revealing clumps of golden berries cradled by broad leaves. She examined them, poked the waxy surface with her beak and turned them around in her claw. She had never seen a species like this before but her hunger was strong. Cautiously, she picked the closest one with her beak without piercing the tough skin. Smooth, large and perfectly spherical, it pulsed in this grey world. If she didn’t eat this she would be dead from hunger anyway... The juices flowed from the berry and slid into her belly. It felt like a warm heart-song, flowing through her wings and thawing her tip feathers. She waited a moment before devouring the other berries on the bush. As her belly filled, hope once more filled her bosom.

  She spied two lonely berries in the top limb of the bush and realised she had been greedy and not left enough for later. She left them alone, in case she lived through the night and needed food.

  Emily pulled broad leaves off the bush and fashioned a nest next to the overhanging rock where she could be cocooned from the elements. She leaned against the rock and drifted to sleep, thinking about her brood and family. Perhaps when her senses returned she would discover she wasn’t far from home. She thought of Pippin, her little sister; only days ago she’d taught her to fly, the all-important step for a bird in any brood. Images of her best bird-friend Noogie flooded her mind.

  If only Emily hadn’t insisted on spying on the Elder council–but she was right about the strangeness of seasons.

  If only she hadn’t pushed Noogie to follow the scout group to the human settlement.

  If only she had turned back when Noogie kept telling her.

  Why did she try and save a human? That was against every rule of the brood. It just seemed the right thing to do. Bile rose, burning her gullet, and tears stung her eyes. Poor Noogie. She tried to push the unhappy thoughts from her mind.

  It was deep into the night when Emily woke with her stomach on fire. She stumbled out into the solitary blackness. The wind had diminished to gentle puffs, brushing icy fingers through the night. Her stomach heaved burning green and brown liquid from her beak, melting the snow at her claws. It must have been the berries. Had she eaten too many? She glanced up at the tree and saw the two forsaken berries glowing bright; piercing the darkness of the surrounding area, as lighthouses to lonely sailors. She was amazed, even as another convulsion threw her head into the snow. A wave of dizziness hit her and she fell. Lying on her back in the snow she covered herself with her one good wing, and moaned for sleep. Colours filled her eyes. Through her wings, she saw crimson, lime-green and salmon swirling in a vortex of light. Even her closed eyes did little to diminish her visions. Groggily, she stood up and limped farther into the dark, sinking in the snow.

  She saw a light, and realised it was a little bird standing before her. A breath of snow wafted around the bird like a dusty morning fog. The bird looked at Emily with sad eyes. It lifted its wing, beckoning Emily to follow. It was Noogie. Emily was joyous and staggered after her.

  “Noogie it’s me, Emily. You’r
e alive!”

  The apparition wandered away. Emily gave chase, her dead wing dragging in obedience like the discarded bones of a leftover carcass.

  “Where are we going, Noogie? Wait please. Can’t you see…”

  The bird stopped in the blackness at the base of a tree, turned and stood with her creamy brown feathers bathed in a soft light. Emily threw her wings around the wraith and fell face-down in the snow. Noogie disappeared in a puff before her eyes. Emily cried out in pain. The sound bounced off the forlorn nothingness. She left her beak in the ground. She couldn’t bear any more. Her eyes deceiving her, a mirage, sent to torture her, a reminder of her alien being landing in a world without meaning... Maybe the berries were poison.

  Ice formed on her bones, stiffening. Yes, she heard her mind say. Lie down in the snow, wait for the next snowfall, and again become one with Mother Nature.

  Emily drifted between dreams and reality. She heard gentle bells pipe a dance in her head. Strange voices lifted in song, a deep booming that penetrated her bones. Emily liked the music. Peace flowed through her body. She no longer felt her maimed wing. Waves of warmth climbed through her, melting her claws, working up her legs and into her underbelly feathers, a numb hope at the edge of her fuddled mind.

  She opened her eyes and saw ice blown about by the wind like a thousand white bees racing before her.

  The song drew closer, as though speaking to her. She just had to listen. What was it saying?

  There was love in those words, an adoration, of being at home eating sumptuous grubs, a nuzzle from her mother, an admiring look from her little Pippin, the comfort from her brave red popere Bijou.

  She closed her eyes and rolled over to her back. Above her the night had been replaced by dim daylight. She gathered her remaining spirit and aching bones to stand. Looking into the icy blackness she realised it wasn’t daylight. The light emanated from a source floating toward her. It hovered a few feet off the snow, at first a circle, then, as Emily’s eyes cleared, she saw a longer, almost human form. Song, light and love pulsed from its rainbow presence, radiating a benevolent cosiness, as though she were the only important being alive. She shook her beak again, trying to clear her mind, disbelieving in her newfound hope.

  “Go away. Don’t torture me. Please.”

  Then it spoke. Emily thought it spoke, but she couldn’t see a face.

  “Little one, I bring you peace.” The apparition’s voice was bells rushing on the wind.

  “Am I dead?” Emily asked.

  “You are more alive than ever. Your new life is at its birth.”

  Emily thought she must be dreaming. No, she was dead. She tried to focus her eyes.

  “My poor Eama, you have been through much, but your time has come.”

  Emily croaked through a grazed throat. “Eama? How do you know my formal name? Only my family know that name.”

  “All that needs to be known is already known by me,” said the rushing wind of the voice.

  “Who are you?”

  For a moment nothing happened. It was as though the mirage was contemplating, weighing its options.

  The light from the ghostly figure dimmed and Emily’s beak dropped open. A woman appeared. Her hair was the colour of the smoothest sandstone and danced wildly at the behest of the wind. Pieces of nature fixed to her hair as ornaments to an empress. Her dress was the finest spider silk, the colours a cacophony of all nature. Greens, yellows, oranges, browns and blues drifted through the fabric; fabric that bound the wild strands of nature with delicate caresses.

  The woman’s long marble-pale fingers looked as though they could pierce time, reach out and hold planets, like the playthings of a young child.

  Emily was most frightened by her eyes, black empty sockets revealing the stars, pinpricks of light disappearing into eternity.

  “I am Eostra,” the woman replied, and her voice filled Emily’s whole being.

  “I’ve- I’ve- never heard of you,” Emily stuttered.

  “I am known by many names. Some call me Mother Spring, Ostara, the eastern Star. On Annwyn I am most commonly known as the last Elemental. On your world I am known also as Mother Earth, Ishtar, Semiramis and Divine Feminine.”

  “I’ve heard that one.” Emily wasn’t sure what to believe. Her mind was playing tricks again. It must be the poison from the berries.

  “I must be dying. Why else would you be here?”

  “Eama, you will fulfil a purpose that is greater than your birthright would ordain. I am here to help that new purpose present itself.”

  “Please don’t call me by that name. What purpose?”

  “Rest now, my little one. We will speak again.”

  The rainbow light dimmed, and the icy wind puffed Emily’s feathers.

  “Wait. Don’t leave me here. Please. If you are real, don’t let me die. I want to get back to my family.”

  “Your body may be small but your connection and courage is a giant among the living. Our paths have crossed and we are bound by the fate of that crossing.” Her voice sang with the wind.

  “I have no idea what you are talking about. I’m so tired. Please let me sleep.”

  Emily wavered in the wind and sat on her claws. Her eyes closed, pleading for rest.

  “I cannot stay long, little one. I will tell you this much. The Wellwyn Prophesy has foretold of your arrival to the inhabitants of Annwyn.

  “But you must change to fulfil your destiny. Your first change will be in the body. But the transformation of mind and heart will be your greatest trial. My hope, and that of others, is that you succeed.”

  It seemed the music in Emily’s mind had changed, as a longing tone seeped into her bones. The woman’s face matched the music, her head tilting to the side, sizing-up Emily.

  “I don’t mean disrespect, I am a bird looking for her bird-friend and a human boy.” Emily moaned.

  Emily tried to lift the ragged member at her side. “In case you haven’t noticed, I won’t last long out here in this condition. I’m no good to anybody.”

  “It is forbidden to control directly the affairs of beings. I can intervene only for a moment, when the energy lattices between the worlds are interrupted, as in this case. Choices will be laid out before you that will rend your heart and mind and have you grieve for happier times. But you will not face these choices and challenges alone. You will form the Circle of Six, and only through your bond will you fulfil your destiny. You must find the boy. Your paths will become as one. Remember this Eama; as in all things, it will be your decision if you accept those opportunities and challenges that many refuse or fail in their realisation.”

  Emily forced her eyes open to ask one final question, “Where am I?”

  The glowing figure lifted her arms and opened her hands in welcome. Emily felt herself lift off the snow, the air rush underneath her, weightless and insignificant. She opened her

  beak to speak but her mind was gently silenced. Perhaps it was her new friend.

  “Find the boy, find the boy,” were the last words her mind heard.

  Her might was spent, a rag doll in the hands of this unseen force. Wings splayed, exposed, she felt no pain.

  Snow spiralled around the two lonely personages, trees bowed in reverent submission and the winds stilled. The woman spoke words that Emily didn’t understand. How could she understand her before? The sight before her began to blur. The gossamer dress became a rainbow of pulsing power. The song in Emily’s head climaxed, horns and choral singers in crescendo. She felt her very bones coming apart again, cells separating, expanding, floating, like the snow in which she thought she would die.

  Compassion and sympathy called to Emily, urging her to let go and accept her new self, whatever that was. Emily was unable to hold on. She did not want to hold on.

  Slowly, floating on the night frost, piercing the night, fading with time and space, the glimmering spirit reached out to the dying little bird.

  “Don’t be frightened. I am here for you and wit
h you. Sleep little one.”

  Eostra’s eternal finger reached out and touched Emily’s destroyed wing. A blast of light and love exploded in Emily’s mind and darkness came.

  Chapter 6

  Xavier’s Errand

  Outside the Reven Enclave

  STORVEN STRONGHOLD,

  ANNWYN

  It was only mid-morning and the Jalpari sun was hot on Xavier’s back. He shouldn’t have worn a full robe but he wanted to remain hidden from his father’s nosy subjects as he moved through the city, especially today with the streets full with the upcoming Lagan celebrations.

  He crouched in the bushes above the Reven enclave, moved aside the overhanging leaves covering his line of sight, and breathed softly. He let his hand slip out of his robe and focussed his will at a point between his fingers. He watched as a tuft of small flames shimmered into being. He looked around, absently twisting the flames. They had been studying the movements of the Reven all morning and had only one sighting. He watched Bardolf sitting a little way along the bushland slope with his pink tongue lolling from his jaws and his crimson eyes staring ahead. He wondered how his wolf-friend felt in this heat. Maybe his blue fur kept him cool.

  Xavier looked to his right at Sirakon. The Fire-Faire wore her usual red tunic. She pushed her gold bracelets up her fine dark arms as she shaded her eyes with her hand. The sun glinted off the gold veins in her red wings that hung down near the back of her legs. He thought the gold gave her a delicate substance. He caught himself in his thoughts. He had never thought of her as beautiful before.

  She was distracted at something in the enclave.

  “What’d you see?” Xavier said.

  “I think I saw one move.”

  Xavier slid down the hill a little and squatted behind a tree. His left foot slipped on loose leaves, tinged yellow in the hot sunlight. He grabbed a branch to slow his fall and stared into the stony basin below the bushland. He welcomed the shade.