by Susan Faw
Avery, her heart beating in rhythm to the cadence of the earth, walked up the stairs, ignoring everyone around her. The call of the temple pulled her forward in a near trancelike state. Sharisha matched her stride to Avery’s, mounting the staircase on her left side while Gaius fell in on Avery’s right. Avery felt no fear; what she felt was peace. This is home. I’ve come home.
The minute Avery crossed the threshold of the sanctuary, she felt a surge of contentment. A breeze tossed her curls, and she opened her arms to the wind that called her name. Avery breathed deeply and took another step into the interior. In that instant, with a blinding flash of light, the others vanished.
Chapter 6
The Pact
ARTIO SURVEYED THE PROSTRATE FORMS before her. The smell of blood was thick on the air, coppery and cloying, clinging to the waves of heat emanating from the firepit that lit the clearing. She shook her head, stretching newly formed muscles, exploring the motion and connection of her new body. She raised her arm and examined it. Taut muscles flowed from shoulder to wrist, covered in a short, light brown hair that glistened in the firelight. She flexed her fingers, nails rounded and slightly claw-like. Her legs were similarly constructed, thighs strong, calves rounded and corded. She could run for miles. She knew it.
Ah! This is a great body! she thought, dismissing the cub’s sacrifice. For too long, I have been imprisoned amongst the stars!
Arthmael, the High Priest of the Bear Clan, rose from the ground, bowing and scraping constantly. He peeked from under his headdress and, in a quivering voice, spoke to his god.
“Great One! We are your faithful servants. We have not forgotten. We woke you from your slumber amongst the stars as was prophesied. The elder scrolls promised this day. We alone of all the Primordial peoples remembered the old ways and have safeguarded the secrets of the origins of the gods. We call upon you, Celestial One, to help us in our time of need.”
Artio ignored the mutterings of the human, engrossed in the inspection of her new form. As a goddess amongst the stars, she’d observed the scurrying on the planet below, and she had been an avid admirer from afar. Their lives were fleeting. In a blink of an eye, they were born, lived, and died, yet they believed their lives to be of importance and hurried here and there, building this and tearing down that, yet nothing of permanence remained.
Not like me. I am immortal. I could end their pathetic lives here and now, squash them under my heel, grind them into the dirt they were born of…but no, I must learn more. I must understand why they have summoned me now.
Artio spoke with a voice like a rumble of thunder. “Why have you called me back from my home in the stars? Speak! I will know the truth of it.”
The High Priest cried out at the thunderous clap of her voice, hands over his ears.
“There is great unrest in the world, Celestial One!” he cried. “Our people are divided. The Spirit Clans have blocked access to the temple and to the gods. We cannot approach and pray as we once did or perform the rituals of your people in sight of the temple. They bar our access to the gods.”
“Yet a goddess stands before you. I care not for your petty schemes and squabbles. My purpose is set apart from yours,” she boomed.
One particularly bold priest, firelight dancing off his shining bald pate, dared to raise his head and make eye contact. He shivered at the ageless depth, the bottomless pit of black reflected in the eyes staring back at him.
“Great One, the temple is only accessible by the gods. There are rumours of one such as you approaching the temple as we speak. If they enter, they will have control and dominion over the temple. Should you not seize it for yourself?”
Artio glared at the man and crossed her arms, considering his words. “Where is this…temple?” she rumbled. “Take me to it! If it is a temple of the gods, I will have it for my own. There you will worship me!”
The priest turned to the prostrate men, swiping at a trickle of sweat rolling down the side of his face. “Rise! We march for the sacred city of Faylea.”
***
Artio followed the little men, taking one step for every six of theirs. With her superior height, she could see over the top of the priests, who led the procession through the trees. The winding mountain pass through which they traveled was familiar.
She frowned, trying to capture the illusive memory that tickled within her omnipotent brain. She was somewhat disgusted with the bestial form the priests had recalled her to, despite its efficiency. No thunder god would ever be tied to such a menial form. The gods of the sky viewed themselves as a superior life form to the flesh that crawled beneath them. The body did, however, seem familiar. She searched vast epochs of memory, trying to pin down the thought to a time and place. True, she had virtually slept for eons of time, nestled amongst the stars, but it had not always been so.
The Thunder Clan had once ruled the primitives of the land. They had sent the rains and withheld their blessings in punishment. They had controlled the snows in the mountain watersheds and had filled the primitives’ wells with water from underground reservoirs. They had been their caretakers until the rebellion.
Artio and the priests climbed steadily for half the day. By noon the sun revealed a sheltered bowl of a valley, nestled between two curving windswept ridges. Large boulders as tall as Artio were scattered about, as though a giant fist had tossed marbles across the valley in a game of chance.
“What is this place?” Artio rumbled, her voice causing a covey of birds to burst from the treetops and the High Priests to cover their ears.
“It is believed it was a bear community long abandoned, Great One. Little is known about the ancient peoples who lived here, as that history is lost to us, but there are curious drawings in caves set against the sides of the valley. Would you like to see them?”
“It would please me to see these drawings.”
The priests led Artio over to a section of rock that formed part of the crater wall. A toppled pillar, long and octagonal, blocked the entrance to a cave. Similar columns were scattered around, as though a child played a massive-sized game of pick-up sticks. Artio craned her neck sideways to study the stones. Stood upright and set back in their proper placement, the ruins would create an ancient stone framework for a doorway.
Artio bent down and rubbed at the face of the rock, scraping away moss and lichens that clung to deep grooves. Pictures appeared along with squiggles and lines. Artio pulled away the rest of the clinging growth.
A carving was revealed. It appeared to be of bears walking about on their hind legs much like Artio did, but these bears were purely animal in form as depicted in the pictures. The bears were dressed in rudimentary clothing and carried pouches that might have contained arrows, although the fine lines had been swallowed by time and exposure to the elements.
Artio straightened back up and approached the dark opening in the rock. Two slabs of granite were wedged together, the right slab having fallen against the left, barring entrance. Artio grabbed the right slab and heaved. With a grinding noise, she shifted the door to the side, leaving just enough room for Artio to pass through. She straightened on the other side and took two strides into the cavern.
Her entrance activated a ring of soft glowing lights, suspended at ceiling height around the perimeter of the cave. It pushed back the darkness, and the cavern was illuminated.
The High Priests paused in the entrance of the cave, unsure whether they were permitted to enter a place where a god was honoured with light.
A heavy layer of dust covered every surface, yet it was easy to pick out the objects in the room.
Stone benches were set in rows, facing a raised platform at the far end of the cavern. On the platform sat a massive granite throne, carved out of the wall itself.
The surface was decorated with leaves and trees and animal shapes that once inhabited the valley. Every carving was crusted with jewels: fat emeralds made leaves on vines flash as if moved by a breeze, flaming rubies gilded butterfly wings, yello
w citrine graced the bodies of canaries, and diamonds accentuated the spiral horns of unicorns. In the muted light cast from overhead, the chair seemed alive.
Artio climbed the dais and sat down in the throne, running her hands along the arms of the chair. It was sized perfectly.
The priests, frozen in the doorway, gasped and backed away from the opening, bowing as they did so.
Artio had no need of other temples. The Goddess of the Forgotten Temple had returned home at last.
Chapter 7
The Temple
WITH AVERY’S THIRD STEP, she entered a wild forest teeming with plant life. Great trees soared to the heavens, shading the riot of plant life. It flourished and bloomed in every conceivable colour, covering the forest floor. Great ferns and prickly bushes bursting with sweet red, yellow, and blue fruit; toadstools and tender shoots perfect for nibbling; and snaking vines weighed down by large trumpet-shaped flowers dripping with nectar.
Every inch of space was alive. As Avery took another step, the plant life reached for her. Tendrils of roots wrapped gently around her torso, burning her clothing where they touched her. It did not hurt; it felt more like a caress. Mesmerized, Avery pushed on through the undergrowth, careful to not harshly tread on the living presence she felt all around.
With her next step, the forest disappeared and became open skies and a great plain of waving grasses as far as the eye could see. Every type of grain and grass was present and all burned against her clothing as she passed, causing her to lose more clothing to the brushing blades of grass.
With her sixth step, the plant life faded, and she found herself swimming in an ocean. A dolphin swam up to her. Without pausing to think about it, Avery grabbed onto its dorsal fin and was pulled along beside the dolphin. They flashed over barrier reefs teeming with a kaleidoscope of fin and shellfish, eels and sharks—prey and predators alike. As they paraded past her, they touched her hand in greeting or brushed against another part of her and more clothing melted away, even though the water was cool and pleasant. Avery did not give a care for her growing nakedness. There was no sense of shame in this world. She was mesmerized by the vibrant aquatic life surrounding her. Great whales glided into view, and she reached out to touch them as they passed. Bubbles greeted her, and the bubbles glided along her torso as they passed with the sensation of a caress.
The dolphin glided back to shore, and Avery let go as her feet touched the bottom. The scene transformed into a freshwater lake, teeming with brightly coloured salmon and croaking frogs, salamanders and crayfish. They swirled around her, more fish species than she could identify, trout and bass and catfish, all greeting her as the ocean had. She felt their joy at their reunion, and her heart was full of her love for the creatures of the planet she called home.
She took another step, and the scene changed.
The few remaining tatters of clothing left dried instantly and clung to her body as she stepped back onto land. Giraffes and lions, gazelles and cheetahs all flowed toward her, greeting her with purrs and chuckles and lipped kisses, tugging at the remnants of her clothing. Avery touched them all, stepping into all the areas of the earth and welcoming every form of animal life. The vast plains were now full of animal life, including signs of human habitation.
All approached her except the human life. Avery saw them on the horizon, but they did not come close. She tried to walk closer to them, but they were like smoke, slipping away before her steps. Only one man approached her, a grizzled elder, dressed in nothing but a prayer pouch girded about his loins.
“Elder! I am so pleased to greet you!” Avery said to the short wiry-haired man.
The elder tilted his head to one side, studying her. Avery had the impression she was being weighed and judged.
His face split open in a toothless grin, and he reached inside his prayer pouch and pulled out a handful of odd objects. Four knuckle bones; some smooth rocks; several different kinds of feathers, some brightly coloured, some not; a long jagged tooth; and several jet-black claws, curved and razor sharp decorated the palm of his hand. He showed them to Avery then put them back in the pouch. He took the prayer pouch off and handed it to Avery, who strapped it around her waist.
When she looked up from belting it on, he was gone.
Avery took another step and paused at the sight before her. Fantastical creatures of every shape and size surrounded her. They were not randomly arranged. They appeared to have been waiting for her, as though holding counsel and she was the guest speaker. As she thought this, suddenly she found herself standing on a platform made of rock in the center of a natural arena, the glassy slopes rising away from the center, filled with creatures of myth and legend.
A bronze-winged lion, eight feet tall, stood shoulder to shoulder with an emerald-green dragon, puffs of smoke curling from its great nostrils. Both bowed to Avery as she spun slowly in a circle, taking in her surroundings. Proud manticores and hairy leprechauns; grey-feathered griffins and muscled werewolves; shimmering jewelled fae and ghastly ghouls crowded in around the dais, while flaming phoenixes and Pegasuses soared overhead. Avery even spied a thunderbird perched on the crest of a timbered temple as she completed her circle.
“Hello!” she called to the creatures, knowing, somehow, that they would understand her words. “I am so pleased to meet you!”
The crowd of creatures parted, and an unusual sight greeted Avery’s eyes. A snow-white unicorn with a long spiral horn of purest crystal stepped daintily toward the platform, each hoof displacing tiny rainbows of light as it pranced towards Avery. On the unicorn’s back was an even stranger sight. At first Avery mistook it for a tree, but as it came closer, the figure dissolved into the shape of a man, green of skin and hair and clothed in a moss tunic and living woven grasses, the tassels of the stalks fringing his boots of willow bark. A beard of curly leaves decorated his face and head and wise old eyes of jet black locked onto hers. Avery’s mouth stretched into a broad smile, for this was someone she could understand.
“Uncle!” she cried and jumped down from the dais to greet the Green Man.
“Alfreda. It has been too long!” He swung down from the unicorn and embraced her, smoothing her hair.
A memory stirred in Avery at the name he used. It was a name she was familiar with, one she had not used in a very, very long time. She frowned and released her uncle, who continued to smile down at her.
“Remember!” he commanded and placed a finger in the form of slender branch to her temple.
Memories, centuries and eons old, cascaded into her mind. Images flashed before her, and the room spun. The amount of information was mind-boggling, and she cried out at the rush, the pressure of the intense knowledge transfer overwhelming her. With a scream, she collapsed to the floor.
Chapter 8
A Wizard’s Answer’
ZIONA ROUNDED THE CORNER of the hallway leading away from the kitchens and ran smack into Cayden. A startled “Ooph” escaped her lips before she straightened, clutching his shoulder.
“Ziona, I’m sorry!” His arm curved around her, supporting her until she caught her breath.
“Why are you sprinting blindly around corners, Cayden?” She rubbed her stomach.
“Mordecai. I need to talk to Mordecai. Have you seen him?”
“Not since breakfast. He mumbled something about ‘exorcising the deadwood’ and wandered away with a scone clutched in his hand.”
“The greenhouses. He is in the gardens.” Cayden grabbed Ziona’s hand and pulled her along behind him. “This is of concern to you too. Come on.”
“Wait for your guard, Cayden! You know you can’t go running off without them anymore.” She slowed her steps, forcing Cayden to tow her along, allowing the pair of Kingsmen shadowing them to catch up. Cayden glanced back, frowning at the men. “Are you trying to lose them?” she asked.
“No! Well, not intentionally,” he groused, “but I wouldn’t be sorry if I did. I never have any time to myself anymore.”
Ziona ma
tched his stride as they left the castle through a side door and crossed a short courtyard. They entered the walled gardens via an arched stone entrance, pushing open the iron-wrapped gate which squealed in the damp air. A stone path curved right and left off the main trunk, like the limbs of a very organized tree, leading to various branches of plantings. A muffled buzzing sound reached their ears. With a grin, Cayden strode toward the farthest corner where fruit trees were planted in orderly rows. The limbs of the apple trees were dotted with thumb-sized swellings that would in a few months be bright red apples, ready for harvest.
The buzzing grew louder. The leaves parted, and there stood an old man, his flowing white beard and hair standing on end like a fuzzy dandelion, waving his skinny arms at a cross of sticks that hovered above the ground. It was covered in a light canvas material, stretched tightly, and a breeze created by the wizard accounted for the buzzing sound as it moved over the surface of the canvas.
“What is that?” Cayden’s eyes followed the object as it floated into the air.
“It is a kinetic instrument trying to escape.” He grinned, watching them mouth out the words, their faces puzzled. “It’s called a kite.” When they still looked puzzled, he waved them closer.
“Look. The air flows over the fabric, and it creates a wind tunnel which lifts it into the air.”
Cayden’s brow furrowed deep into his face. “But what holds it up?”
“Air.”
“But there is nothing to air! It’s not solid like the tree.”
“Ah. See the leaves on the trees? Observe how they move. The air pushes the leaves when it flows past them.”
“That is the tree spirits,” Cayden protested, laughing. “Everyone knows trees are inhabited by spirits. You are trying to trick us, Mordecai. It won’t work!”
Ziona stepped up beside the wizard, smiling, and touched the string attached to the bottom of the kite, which trailed back into Mordecai’s hand. “Which sprite did you beguile into bewitching the branches for you?”
