Kyr’s hand automatically reached out to caress her swollen belly. He was glad their daughter would be born on Calen, that Aja had turned the day to day management of the Empire over to his brother and the newly elected Imperial Senate. She officially held the throne, but agreed to act as advisor only for a period of five years and then she would abdicate altogether and there would no longer be an Empress.
“Why that one?” he asked, looking toward the filly. “I have a fully trained, very gentle eight-year-old mare ready and waiting for you.”
“Uh-uh.” Aja shook her head. “That one. She’s mine. Look at her mane and tail, she’s so beautiful, and her color…” Aja walked over to the horse and ran a hand along her muzzle. The horse responded with a low nicker. Aja turned back to Kyr and grinned. “She is most definitely mine.
“All right. Anything to please my Empress,” Kyr said, with a deep bow.
“Knock it off,” replied Aja. “Or as Davi says, I might have to kick your ass from here to the Pikes.”
Kyr took his woman in his arms. “Promises, promises.” He kissed her. “You know,” he said, lifting his mouth from hers, “It will take me two months to train her and even then I’m not sure I’ll want you on her.”
“Why not?” asked Aja. “I’ll no longer be like this.” She looked down at her belly. “Besides, you’ve been a good teacher and I’ve ridden Maita quite well.”
“A twelve-year-old artillery-proof horse is one thing, riding a two-year-old is quite another.”
“Ah.” Aja nodded. “I’ll be gentle with her. I swear it. Just as I was with you the first time you flew with me.”
“Gentle, eh? I recall many things about our first time, but the word gentle doesn’t come to mind.” Kyr swung Aja off her feet. She squealed with delight. “Did you bring your knife?”
“Always, my love,” Aja replied, “Always.”
Book III: Reborn
“Mama, tell me the story.”
“Which story, sweet?”
“The story about the lady, the pony lady. Percy’s pony.”
“Ah.” Yael laughed. “You mean Persephone. You make the Great Goddess sound like a little boy on a little horse.”
“But she did ride a horse, Mama. She rode her horse from the night into the day. I want to hear how she spends half her turn in the darkness and then rides her horse into the morning of our world so we can have the warm spring breezes. Tell the story, Mama. Please?”
Yael stroked her daughter’s thick mane of hair, her chest aching with the familiar stab of dread she felt every single time she saw its mahogany color or looked into her daughter’s pale gray eyes.
A thousand years had passed on Calen since a child was born with this hair and these eyes. A thousand years since the Empress Aja had willingly abdicated the throne and retreated from power, arriving on Calen with her mate, Kyr Aram, a Calen man and Resistance fighter.
She’d been followed soon after by her sister, the Lady Ennat, and her mate, First Imperial President, Karna Aram.
Their descendants, including Yael, had spread far and wide, the greatest horsemen and women in the Empire, and all had been born with golden hair and blue-violet eyes. Until four years ago—the day her own daughter, Issa, was born.
Yael and her mate, Ceta, had sworn the midwife to secrecy and fled the village that same night for the safety of the mountains.
“Mama? Mama?”
“Yes, sweet?”
“Mama, you’re looking at me again in that funny way.”
“I’m sorry, Issa. What did you ask?”
“Tell the story. Please hurry and tell it before da gets home and tells me to close my eyes and go to sleep.”
“Ah, the story of Persephone…” Yael helped her daughter to lie down. She smoothed the child’s hair away from her face and wrapped her in the warm winat wool coverlet.
“Many thousands of years ago, on the distant world called Earth…”
Book III: Reborn
“Upo, ride with me.”
“Now, Issa? I have horses to bring in.”
“Come big brother, I want to show you what I’ve found. It won’t take long and when we finish, I’ll help you round up the horses.” Issa mounted her mare and galloped towards the trees, head scarf flapping.
Upo grumbled at her retreating back, “Da will tan my hide if those horses aren’t in the paddock before sunset.”
They had buyers coming first thing in the morning, but he’d always had trouble saying no to his little sister. Besides, she was fourteen, just beginning to look like a woman and she needed to keep that Godsdamned red hair covered. His da would tan his hide worse if he didn’t look after her in the wild lands.
He turned his big black and galloped after her. The stallion ate up the ground, closing the distance between them. Issa’s mare was quick, but his horse, Mett, was faster. He caught up to her at the edge of the forest.
“Where are we going?” he asked, not bothering to hide the irritation in his voice.
“Up to the ridge,” replied Issa.
“The ridge? I don’t have time to go to the ridge.”
Issa looked at the sun. “Yes, you do,” she said. “If we trot, we’ll make it there and back in less than a turn.” She teased him. “Lyta and I would run, but Mett is too big to gallop through the trees.”
Upo rolled his eyes. “All right, we’ll trot. I lead.”
“How can you lead?” Issa retorted. “You don’t know where we’re going.”
“Fine, you lead.” Upo fell behind Issa and they trotted the horses over the soft forest floor. She led him up the steep switchbacks to the top of the ridge.
“We need to leave the horses here,” she said, dismounting. “The trail is too narrow for them.” She tossed her reins over a nearby branch. Upo followed her example, leaving Mett next to Lyta, and he scrambled down the far side of the ridge after Issa. He reached his sister in a few moments.
“What trail?” he asked. “I don’t see a trail.”
“Right there.” Issa pointed. “We have to go single file. It’s narrow.”
“How did you ever find this place?” He tugged her hair and laughed. “Looking for Persephone’s entrance to the Underworld?”
She turned her serious gray eyes on him. “Yes.”
Upo felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. It happened every time his sister looked at him like that, with such—he wasn’t sure how to describe it—intensity, as if she could see inside him.
“You need to cover your hair,” he muttered.
“Not here, there’s nobody here but the two of us.” She let her scarf dangle around her neck.
“Yes, but you know what da says, no one can see the red color of your hair.”
Issa shrugged and continued on her way.
Upo kept pace. “How far?”
“Just around that next turn,” she replied. “There’s a cave. Wait till you see what I found.”
“A basha cub?”
“Oh, don’t you wish it was a basha cub. Mother would never let you keep it.”
“My friend P’kit has one. He’s trained it to fetch.”
Issa giggled. “That’s good, because P’kit can’t find his own boots.”
Upo grinned at her moving back. She spoke the truth, but he’d never permit himself to laugh out loud. He didn’t want Issa to know he agreed with her. “Here,” he heard her say. They’d reached the mouth of a small cave. Before he could stop her, Issa dropped to her knees and crawled through the entrance.
“Hey, wait,” he called, crawling after her. “There might be a…” Before he could finish his sentence, Upo reached the far end of the sloping tunnel and rose to his feet, stunned at the size of the interior.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Issa smiled at him. “Look.” She pointed up at what appeared to be a rose-colored pane of glass or crystal. It muted the light as it entered the cave through a man-made gap in the roof.
“What is this place?” Upo tried to look in
all directions at once.
“Holy ground. Take off your boots, brother. One should not wear boots when one walks upon holy ground.”
Upo saw that Issa had already pulled her boots off, and for some inexplicable reason he followed her example. His sister walked around the piles of fallen rocks to the far wall of the cave and motioned to him. She pointed at some writing. He squinted at the inscription.
“By the Gods,” Upo exclaimed. He dropped to his knees, grabbing Issa and pulling her down with him. “Do you know where we are?”
“Of course,” she replied. “It’s their burial chamber. The Empress and her consort, Aja Bokinan and Kyr Aram.” Issa rose to her feet.
“No.” Upo grabbed for her again. “Stay down.”
“Why?” Issa turned and looked at him. Upo felt that familiar shiver run up his spine.
“Because this is, well, this is their, uh, it is as you say, a holy place. The Gods might punish you, Issa.”
“Oh no, Upo. They won’t punish me, they brought me here. Well, one God brought me here, Tem, the Red Demon. She showed me this place.”
“Issa,” Upo hissed. “Don’t ever joke about that. Ever. Don’t say her name. You might accidentally conjure her.”
“Upo, get up.” Issa rolled her eyes and tugged him to his feet. “She’s not here now. And even if she was, she wouldn’t hurt you. You’re my brother. We share the same blood. You would be perfectly safe.”
Upo grabbed for Issa’s hand and he began to pull her toward the small entrance, picking up their boots and tucking them under his arm. “We should leave,” he said, trying to keep his voice level. “We must collect the horses.”
“No, Upo, not yet. She said she would leave something here for me. That I should return today and I would find it.”
“What?”
“A ring. Help me look for it, brother. As soon as we find it, I’ll leave with you.”
The last thing Upo wanted to do was stay in a burial cave and look for something his sister had surely imagined. But he knew how stubborn she could be, and until she was convinced there was nothing there, she wouldn’t budge. “All right, I’ll help you look, but we must be quick. And if there’s nothing to find, you must agree to come with me.”
“Of course,” said Issa. “I swear it. You take that side, I’ll take this side.” She ran off to search the corners of the cavern.
Upo sighed and looked around. Perhaps if he started near the inscription and worked his way toward the cave entrance. A few moments later, he stopped and sucked in a breath.
“Issa,” he said. Even though he’d hushed his voice, her name echoed in the cavern. His sister was at his side in a heartbeat. Upo pointed at a small niche carved into the rock wall.
With a big grin, Issa threw her arms around him.
“You found it, brother!”
Upo watched her insert her hand and draw out a gold band with a large stone. Issa turned her hand palm up, holding the ring with reverence.
“Look, Upo. Look.”
The band was made of red-gold, a color the likes of which Upo had never seen before. Set within the band was a large blood-red stone. He crowded Issa, peering over her shoulder. She turned the ring around and around in the palm of her hand and he could see that there was something etched on the surface of the stone. Issa brought it to her face. Upo leaned in for a closer look. The etching was a heart and the heart was carved to look as if drops of blood fell from it.
“What is this?”
“The Royal Ring,” answered Issa. “The Royal Signet Ring. It came all the way from ancient Earth with the Empress Ya to the first colony on Persephone. She said I was to have it. The Red Demon, Tem, said it belongs to me.”
Upo looked at his sister, afraid of her, afraid for her.
“We must hide it,” he said. “No one can know about this. If anyone learns of this, they will kill you, Issa. They will kill you.”
Innocent gray eyes looked into his. Upo folded her hand about the ring. “Put it in your pouch until we decide what to do. Now cover your hair tight with your scarf and let’s get the horses.”
Upo came to her cot that night.
“Mother and da are asleep,” he whispered. “We must hide the ring; hide it where no one will find it, where no one will know of it aside from the two of us.”
“But Upo, Tem said she kept it safe for me, that I am to wear it.” Issa did not want to give it up. The ring was beautiful and when she held it in her hand it seemed to quiver as if it was a living thing.
“I… I… think…” Upo sputtered for a moment. “I think she meant you should wear it when you are older. If you wear it now, you might lose it. Think about it for a moment, Issa. What if someone sees it and recognizes it? They’ll take it from you and they’ll take you away. What if they take mother and da and the baby?”
Issa listened to her brother’s words and she knew he made sense. But the ring seemed to speak to her, too, and the Red Demon had charged her with the care of it. “I don’t know, Upo. Where would we hide it? It would have to be somewhere very private, secret. Tem told me to cherish it. She called the ring my destiny.”
Issa watched her brother’s Adam’s apple move up and down and she knew she’d done it again. She’d frightened him. She seemed to have a knack for saying the wrong thing.
Issa tucked the ring into the pouch she wore around her neck and wrapped a thin arm around her brother’s shoulders. Upo was broader than he’d been just a month ago. He was growing to manhood very quickly. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t always know what I’m going to say before the words come out of my mouth. You are right, Upo. The ring will put all of you in danger.”
“You more than us,” muttered Upo.
“No, I don’t think so,” said Issa. “I don’t think she’d let anything happen to me, but she never said anything about mother and da and Cyra. Only you.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“What did…?” He swallowed hard. “What did the Demon say about me?”
“That you would fight by my side.”
“What is she talking about, Issa?”
“I don’t know, Upo. She said she’ll tell me.”
“When?”
“I don’t know. She’ll come back though, she promised.”
“All right, let me think,” said Upo.
Issa waited in silence, keeping her arm around him. He was born a year before her. He was a full head taller, his chest was growing deep, like da’s, and his voice had changed. Issa looked up to her big brother, even though she’d always gone her own way despite his over-protectiveness.
“The tree,” he said. “We’ll put it in the tree.”
“Yes.” Issa would have clapped her hands, but she didn’t want to wake her parents. The tree was perfect. She and Upo were the only two people in her entire world who knew about the knot in the tree. They’d discovered it when they were very small and they’d followed a tree spata to his stash of seeds. They’d taken over his hiding place and used it to secret their own treasures. Neither of them had used it in years. “There may be insects. You’re sticking your hand in first.”
“We need to wrap it,” said Upo.
Issa fingered the pouch around her neck. “Should I keep it in here?” She pulled it over her head and handed it to Upo. She watched him look inside before he pulled the laces tight.
“Do you have an old headscarf, a small one?”
“Yes.” Issa opened a cupboard and drew out an old wool scarf, one she hadn’t worn in a long time. Her brother rolled the pouch carefully in the scarf and tied the ends together, making a small, secure package.
“I’ll go,” said Upo. “If two of us leave the hut this time of night we might disturb the horses. You wait here.”
Issa leaned over and kissed her brother on the cheek. “Thank you,” she said. “Come right back when you’ve done it.”
After Upo left her room, Issa sat on the edge of the bed and closed her eyes. In her mi
nd, she watched him slip the lock on the front door. He opened it just wide enough to slide through and he shut it behind him, taking care to make as little noise as he could.
Issa had no idea how it was possible to walk in another’s body, see through another’s eyes, but she’d been able to do it since she was a small child. She tried to avoid it with most people. Of course, she wasn’t allowed to meet many strangers because of her hair and eyes.
When the buyers came, she always remained in her room or rode off early on her mare and spent the day in the forest. For the past few years, her da had trusted her to keep out of harm’s way and he’d allowed her to leave their compound unsupervised.
The elders of her parents’ village made a pilgrimage to their cottage several times a year. They’d gather round her in silence, stroke her long hair, look into her gray eyes, and wait for something. She didn’t know exactly what, something she was supposed to do or say, but she never did it or said it. Eventually, after tea and seed cakes provided by her mother, they’d go away, only to return months later and do the same thing all over again.
Issa sighed. She hoped the Demon Tem would explain why the elders touched her and why she could see through her brother’s eyes. She watched as Upo poked a stick into their old hiding place, checking for creepy-crawlies. A few night insects abandoned the space, nothing more.
He pulled the bundle from his weave and pressed it as far into the knothole as he could, then he stuffed several handfuls of dry leaves over it and he returned to the house, sneaking in as quietly as he’d sneaked out. Issa opened her eyes when her brother returned to her room.
“It’s done,” he said, taking a deep breath. “We leave it there for now, until we know what to do, right, Issa?” She nodded her agreement. “And Issa, many buyers are coming tomorrow, more than usual. Stay out of sight. Promise?”
“I promise. Thank you, Upo.”
“Sleep well, Issa.”
The Daughters of Persephone : A Space Opera Page 15
