Song of the Earth: Book Four of the Firebird's Daughter series

by Kyrja

  “What’s the matter?” he asked, letting his arms fall to his sides.

  “I saw what you did,” she accused, her voice a small, angry whisper.

  He looked at her, afraid to ask. Afraid to not know what she saw. How would she use it against him?

  “I saw you helping those people up after Chared and the others left. They knew you.”

  Chapter Eight – Jonath’s Blade

  Drena gasped, unable to believe what her eyes were telling her. “That’s my brother!” she felt herself say. She was too numb to move. To breathe. But she knew she’d said the words; she had heard them clearly. Her head felt weightless, as if somehow detached from her body.

  With the nearly-full moon barely visible in the western sky, she and Jonath had walked from the beach unerringly towards the Temple of Life. At each turn or intersection, he had allowed her to choose their path. She’d known what she was doing, purposefully choosing to move closer and closer to the dreaded building, but had been unable to draw enough courage to choose otherwise. She would have liked to have thought it would take more courage to break into the temple than to avoid it, but the opposite was true. Jonath was right, she had discovered she had to find out what had happened there the night he had died. She was even ready to start asking questions of strangers, as long as it moved them towards their goal of leaving this place.

  The walk along the beach had calmed her mind and steadied her heart precisely because they had agreed not to talk about it. Not to think about it. To just enjoy the fact that they were together and very much alive. She had known, as they walked closer to the city, with the sun setting over her shoulder, what her decision was going to be without having voiced it. Nor had Jonath said a word when they had reached the street where one way meant they were returning to their room and the other meant they were not. There was a moment when she thought she might question the wisdom of breaking into the temple without a plan, but had let it passed, unremarked.

  It had been the two men on the beach, she knew, which had solidified her decision to seek out the answers about whether or not she had given birth to Amphedia’s precious “Savior.” She had been so surprised to see one man disappear and the other change into a bird, that she had felt lost. Completely disconnected from reality. How was she even supposed to know what to expect in this “new” world? None of it was new to the people who lived here, but practically everything seem strange to her. The fact that it was more frightening than fascinating worried her, and made her feel … sad, she supposed, that if she had given birth to a child, that he or she was living in a world that seemed unrecognizable. She didn’t even know how long they had been dead. It could have been days, or years. Maybe even decades? And the strangest thing was that she had no idea if she had died the same time Jonath had, or if she had lived longer. It was maddening when she thought about it, and it was impossible to not think about it.

  They had moved through the city, towards the temple, but when they’d heard voices yelling and people running in what they thought was panic, they had looked at each other as they both had started to run. Nor had the sudden explosion of light from an unknown source of out-of-control fire ahead of them slowed them. They had only stopped to assess the situation when they had reached the Temple of Life. Her immediate fear had been that the temple itself was on fire, and that she would never be able to get where she needed to go. Instead, she was met with a scene of total chaos, and her brother was in the middle of it.

  “Your brother can do magic?” Jonath shouted over the noise, his voice incredulous.

  “I … I didn’t know …” was all she could say as she watched him move his hands. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but she saw his lips moving. So focused on her brother, she almost missed the fact that two other men had turned themselves into pure water. It was obvious they were men by their shapes and movements, but she hadn’t noticed them until Jonath had gasped, pointing them out to her.

  “What kind of a world is this?” she asked absently. And then she saw someone else create a fireball out of thin air. “No!” she screamed when he threw it at two women on the side of the street. One woman was down, while the other was helping her up when the fire hit them. Drena knew she had recoiled when the fire had hit them, but she hadn’t looked away. She knew she hadn’t. And yet, a moment later, there was one woman, helping the other up all over again. As if the fire had never touched them.

  “Oh Jonath … what has happened to this world?” she moaned out loud, turning to him.

  “Get down!” he yelled, pulling her to the ground with him. He had broken her fall by putting himself under her, so she was laying on top of him when she felt a tingling of magic as it skimmed gently along the top of her exposed back. She could feel her muscles stiffen. Her whole back felt numb along with the upper part of her arms and the back of her left thigh. She couldn’t move or turn her neck. She thought she might be sick.

  It didn’t take long for Jonath to maneuver himself out from under her and to prop her up against the wall of a building. She didn’t seem to be in pain, she just couldn’t move more than her hands, her feet, and her face.

  “Go see what’s happening,” she insisted. She wanted to find out what had happened to her brother. He was someone they could ask questions to, even if he was a complete stranger to her. She hadn’t seen him since he’d left the desert many years ago. As a Diviner, he had been required to go to the City by the Sea, and was as eager for it, as she had never been. Still, she had recognized him no matter how many years had passed, and the fact that he’d been a teenager when he’d left, while now, he was a man full grown. She realized, with a shock, that he probably wouldn’t recognize her. Especially if she had been “dead” for very long.

  “Your brother and the two with him, the ones who were made of water, are gone, but … you’re not going to believe this – an owl just landed and turned into a man!”

  “I hope it’s the same one we saw on the beach,” she replied. “I would hate to think everyone has the kind of magic that can turn them into an owl any time they want!” Suddenly, she realized the man whom she’d seen disappear while they were on the beach was Chared. What else could he do? Maybe he wasn’t someone they should talk to after all!

  “What about the women who were on fire?” she asked.

  “Gone,” Jonath said. “But this owl man is helping the others get up. The ones your brother knocked flat with his magic. I wonder if they’re enemies or something, your brother and this owl man.”

  “But they were talking on the beach … weren’t they?”

  “I’m not sure,” he replied, still watching the activity in the street. “We only really noticed them when they were leaving. Oh hey!” he shouted, then lowered his voice as if he was afraid to be overheard. “There’s another owl. Only this one is smaller.”

  Drena could sense some feeling returning, but wasn’t ready to get up yet. She wished she could see everything herself, instead of having to imagine everything Jonath was telling her. “Is it … I don’t know … talking to the owl man or anything?”

  “No. In fact, it looks like it’s a girl!” he whispered loudly. “And she’s just standing there, watching him.”

  “I’m starting to feel better,” she told him.

  “Yeah,” he responded. “Some of them are starting to come around too,” nodding towards the street. “We should get out of here.”

  “No,” she disagreed, forcing her legs to move so she could get up. Fortunately, her knees hadn’t been affected as badly as her back, or she knew she wouldn’t be going anywhere any time soon. “We are going to get into the temple tonight. Now. If anyone notices anything, maybe they’ll blame those people out there.”

  “I’m surprised some of the priests and priestesses haven’t come out to see what was going on,” he told her, helping her to get up.

  “Yeah, they’re probably below ground, raping more Tuq’deb virgins,” she groused. “Come on, help me get moving. I think I’ll fee
l better if I move some more. Let’s go down the street back there, then go around, so we aren’t seen. Maybe it would be better to try a different door anyway.”

  * * * * * * * *

  Now that she had met Honsa, Vory felt better. Better enough, in fact, to be able to just leave now. He wasn’t someone who acted like he was used to getting his way about everything and was likely to boss everyone around. If anything, he almost seemed too nice. It didn’t really matter anyway. She was ready to go. She would do her part. Right up until the end. All this waiting was tedious and was making her anxious. She already knew how this had to end. There was no way she was getting out of this whole thing alive, and she just wanted to get on with it. Maybe do somebody some good somewhere and then … well, she didn’t know exactly what, or how, but she knew her life wasn’t going to last much longer. She almost wished she knew how she was going to die, so she could get it over with. Not knowing made her nervous, and easily startled by the smallest of things. And that was annoying. Beyond annoying. She hoped whatever was coming wouldn’t hurt. She would rather just go to sleep and not wake up. But she always did. And it was tiring.

  “Your name is Vory, isn’t it?” Ordan asked, as he walked towards her. She had seen his over-bright smile as he’d walked towards her. He was someone who was always cheerful. She rolled her eyes, suppressing a sigh. She just wanted to be left alone until it was time to go.

  “Yes,” she nodded, with her arms crossed in front of her. She had found the less she spoke to people, the less-likely they were to speak with her.

  “My name is Ordan,” he smiled, holding out his arm for her to clasp. She immediately felt trapped, uncertain how to respond. Most people just moved off, feeling uncomfortable enough to leave her alone. Especially if she scowled. She tried that now. After a few beats, he still stood there, with his arm extended.

  “Listen,” he told her, finally withdrawing his arm, “I know this is all kind of overwhelming with so many people. We’ll be leaving in the morning, and there won’t be that many with us. Just a handful. If you want me to, I can ask everyone to just leave you alone.”

  She just stared at him. What would make him say that? He seemed like someone everyone knew and wanted to be close to. How would he know anything about wanting to be alone?

  “I’ve never been to the City by the Sea. Maybe you’ll tell me about it sometime,” he told her as he squeezed her arm, then walked away.

  Inhaling deeply to keep from bursting into tears, she blinked rapidly. Damn him! Why did he have to be so nice? She turned her head to watch him walk away, almost wishing he would come back so she would have someone safe to talk to, then felt herself smile when he turned his face and winked at her! It had been a long, long time, since she had felt so … welcome.

  She felt her smile slip, though, as she remembered how often she had not been welcome. Anywhere. Ever. As an offspring of the infamous “Chained Man,” she had been moved from one family to another all of her life. To be fair, she would have to admit it wasn’t just because of who her father had been, although she would have been given a better chance of having a real family if anyone else would have been her father.

  Children born of women from the desert people, the Tuq’deb, were raised by their mothers and families in the desert. Children born of women from the Puj’hom, from the City by the Sea, were raised by their families. At least, that’s the way it was supposed to be. As everyone knew. As Amphedia had decreed. But her Tuq’deb mother had decided she didn’t want to go back to the desert. She had wanted to stay in the city. And so she had. Vory was sure everything would have been different if her mother had lived – no matter what the priestesses had to say about it. And they had had plenty to say about what would have happened. She sighed, tired of being just another casualty in the war of the gods. That’s why she was going with Honsa and the rest of them – so she could strike a blow against them. Any of them. It didn’t matter, all of them were responsible for her misery, and if she could help fix something they had messed up, she was going to do it.

  And then she would die. But not until then. That much she knew for sure. She was tired of dying and not staying dead.

  * * * * * * * *

  Getting into the temple had proven much easier than they’d thought it would be, which only made Jonath more nervous, instead of less so. He remembered following some priests down these very stairs, but trying to figure out if it was just a short time ago, or long ago, made everything seem unreal. Of course, when he’d come down here the first time, he’d been in a very different frame of mind. He’d been terrified that Amphedia had played some kind of horrific trick on them and would be killed out of hand for no other reason than she could do it. No matter how many promises the Storm Goddess made, you would be a fool to think she would keep them. And yet, that is exactly what he had done – he had trusted her. He had vowed to give up his eternal soul. There would be no rebirth for him. Ever. He had loved Drena that much.

  It hadn’t been the thought of being the father of the much-anticipated savior that had fueled his vow. Nor had it been the single time they would be able to – finally! – lay together. Lust had certainly entered into the equation, but you didn’t agree to die after a single encounter just to quench that particular thirst, let alone give up your right to rebirth. No, he had loved her. He still did. As if there had never been a time when he had been without her. As if he had never died.

  He truly hoped they would find whatever they were looking for so they could move on with their lives. He was eager to find his own place in this world. To make a difference. Perhaps have more children – if they ever had one to begin with. There were so many unanswered questions! He shook his head silently, knowing there were so many questions they hadn’t yet thought to ask!

  Voices! Turning quickly to Drena behind him, he lifted a single finger to his lips, nodding his head sideways to indicate he’d heard something in front of them. They were already being as quiet as they possibly could, careful not to scrape their boots against the stone steps as they moved steadily downward. Fortunately, all of the feeling in Drena’s back had returned, or they would have had a much harder time in their silent descent. He sought out her eyes in the dim light of the stairwell, asking silently if she wanted to keep going. Of course she did. Purposefully not asking himself to wonder what would happen to them if they got caught, he kept going.

  They had both been honored “guests” the last time they were here, so everything had been fashioned in a way as to make them feel welcome. He had no idea whether the light coming from the open doorway at the foot of the stairs was normal at this time of night, or if the light meant whoever was there was expecting them. He had a bad feeling about this and knew that if he was alone, he would have already turned back. But Drena, he was sure, wouldn’t even think of stopping now. They were committed, no matter what they found. Or who found them.

  Drena touched his arm, signaling him to stop, then moved past him as they approached the doorway. He was sure she could hear the buzz of two or three low voices as easily as he could. It sounded like there were a couple of men – the voices were deep – but that they weren’t near the door. Perhaps even as far away as another room. He held his breath as Drena knelt down, then peeked her head just far enough past the door jamb to see into the room.

  Nothing. No reaction. Good. He waited patiently while she took the time to look around further. Maybe she would see something that would help to answer their questions, or to at least point them in the right direction. She leaned further forward on her knees, with her whole head in the doorway. Jonath could feel his heart beating faster. He just wanted to get this over with. Let her find something! And let it be enough!

  The next thing he knew, she was standing up and, without a backwards glance, she walked boldly into the room. He was no more than two steps behind her, his heart beating furiously. The voices, he now knew, were coming from another room beyond the one they were in, behind a closed door. He felt himself relax,
if only the tiniest bit. At least they hadn’t walked into some kind of trap. He realized he was so on edge that he almost laughed at himself. It’s not as if they had any “enemies” that they had to be afraid of. If they got caught, they could just say they were looking for a place to spend the night and got curious. It was a temple, after all. Weren’t they supposed to provide that kind of help to people?

  Looking around, he could see they were in a simple, stone room. There was nothing here at all except a small, wooden table. Drena was already standing over it, picking something up. There was a look on her face he hadn’t seen in some time. She was filled with wonder. And sadness. There were even tears standing in her eyes!

  “What is it?” he asked quietly, moving towards her. But she didn’t have to answer once he saw the blade himself. It was his. He had brought it here, when he’d come to offer his soul so that Drena would give birth to the savior. It was a very special blade. One designed to invoke an ancient magic so that once he had died, she would be able to claim his lifewaters as her own. So that their hearts would beat as one for as long she lived. He’d brought it with him when he had come here to die. He felt a shiver crawl up his spine, spreading chills through his shoulders and neck.

  The look on her face was one of pure bliss; she was happy. But he knew it proved nothing other than the fact they had, indeed, been here. Nothing about a child they may have conceived. Nothing to tell them whether Amphedia’s savior had been born. She knew that as surely as he did, and yet she was filled with joy. Perhaps just the fact that there was something to prove they’d been here, had been alive, and together, had given her some kind of hope. As she looked into his eyes, they suddenly darted to the doorway behind him. Someone was coming!

  That’s when the door behind Drena slammed open and his worst fears were standing in front of him. Several men dressed in nothing but hip wraps and half masks came running into the room, surrounding them. Each of them had a tattoo of a blue dolphin inked onto their lower abdomens, and they smelled strongly of some kind of herb. He heard Drena gasp as they automatically drew closer to each other. She still had his blade, holding it to her chest with both hands.