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

by Kyrja

  “What was that for?” Baya asked, still frowning.

  “For saving me. You could have just moved through time by yourself, letting the fire ball kill me, and I would never have known the difference. I could have died,” she said, her voice breaking, “but you … “ she sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand, her lips trembling. “You saved me.” She hugged Baya again, an eerie feeling washing through her, knowing how close she had come to having her life ended.

  For her part, Baya had no idea how to feel. She had never had anyone thank her for doing what she thought was the right thing to do. It was confusing. And good, she conceeded, allowing herself to be hugged, but strange.

  “But there’s more, isn’t there?” Khashya asked, only letting go of Baya to wipe the tears away from her eyes.

  Baya nodded. Then said, “It’s Sharun. Only he doesn’t know it.”

  “More fire balls?” Khashya asked, then looking at Baya, said, “or something worse?”

  “He’s been here before,” Baya told her, nodding her head to encompass their current location. “Here, I mean, in Jikangai. Not inside, but out here, in the Second Circle.”

  “The rooster didn’t do it,” Aku said, not looking at either of them, but Baya knew what she meant. She’d been there; she knew.

  “There are … pockets, or holes, I suppose. Portals maybe. Spread all over the place here. Or, at least there used to be. I haven’t checked since we got here. ” She paused. “Somehow, time has changed back to normal here. It’s not the way it used to be.”

  “What are these … portals… for?” Khashya asked, looking closely at Baya for clues.

  “Time. To the past and future. To other … places. Or realms. I heard someone call them “dimensions” once, so that’s probably the right word to use. Whatever they’re called, we can feel them because of their vibrations.” She looked at the high priestess to see if she was understanding, then sighed. “Like, on the way here, did you hear music?”

  Khashya couldn’t stop herself from involuntarily shivering. She never wanting to talk about that experience. Ever. Still, she nodded her head. “Yes.”

  “What we heard, Aku, Sharun, and all of the rest of us wasn’t really music. It was vibrations and frequencies. Beats. Tempos. Purpose. That is what we hear, and more. Most of us can do or make magic. You already know that, but everyone has different things we can or can’t do. But almost all of us can move through time because we can hear, or maybe feel … or maybe both … I don’t know. But we can feel … well .. a lot of things. And time is one of them.”

  “All right,” Khashya said, nodding her head. “How did Sharun get here, if he didn’t have P’onyem to bring him?”

  Baya shrugged, saying, “It’s not such a hard thing to do once you know how, and if you have the ability to. Like most of us do. He didn’t know what he would find here, though, only that time felt different and he wanted to feel it for himself. It started out as curiosity, really,” she explained. “These pockets aren’t so big, like a building, though. But the Second Circle was very, very big, and it called to him. It was too much. Too big. He had to see it for himself. To feel it for himself.”

  “All right,” Khashya said, “I don’t suppose “how” he got here is so important right now. What happened when he came here the last time?”

  “Some of the older ones came, the adults. People the age my mother would be. Chared’s first children. But I was invited to come too. I didn’t want to, because I was afraid of getting sucked into another time. That was before we all had a special section of the city to live in,” she told Khashya. “There were many who thought of coming here when we were all put there together like that, but we didn’t. We understand that if … well … people like you found out we can travel through time, we would probably all be hunted down.”

  “I’m sure you’re right about that. Either people would be afraid of you, or they would want to use you to go back in time, or … maybe even to the future,” Kaysha expressed her understanding.

  “Yes,” Baya nodded. “But something happened to Sharun. There is a priest of the Blue Dolphin Order who thinks it is because Sharun was going insane that he did what he did.”

  “Tell me,” Khashya said, simply.

  “The short version is that Sharun traveled to the future first and saw things which didn’t make sense to him. He was still just a boy. I think he was about eight years old then. No more than ten for sure. It was too far into the future though, at a time when he would have already lived a long life and was dead. So he didn’t just … “ Baya shrugged, saying, “grow older or something like that. He was still a boy, and he was scared by what he saw. He was very strong in this gift,” she looked at Khashya then, to make sure she understood.

  “I understand what you’re saying,” she assured Baya. “Everyone can throw a ball, or run, or plant a garden, but some people are better at doing different things. Not all of you have the same abilities, nor the same strength in them. I understand, and am not afraid that all of you are going to go running off to find out how the future turns out. Go ahead,” she urged the younger woman, “what happened?”

  “He experimented, really. He just kept trying different things, until he could figure out how to go into our past to change it so that the future would be different. That was bad enough, but he was so strong in this gift, that he was able to go to the past as an adult. To a time before he was born.”

  “Oh!” Khashya gasped, frowning. “That’s terrible.”

  “No, it’s more than terrible. He killed people, Khashya. People we could not bring back to life.”

  “I can see him standing right over there, so … someone must have figured out how to stop him,” she guessed, feeling sick to her stomach again. In the vision she’d had on the way here, she, too, had killed people. She couldn’t stand the thought of it.

  “Yes,” Baya sighed. “That is a longer story, but they were able to stop him. Only because they killed him.”

  “What?” Khashya asked, incredulous. “But, he’s standing right there!” she insisted.

  “The rooster was there,” Aku whispered quietly, standing very still, looking down at the ground.

  “That is Sharun from another time. We brought him back. They did. The adults did. So he could live again in this time, but he doesn’t match the time here, so he can’t move through time, even if he wanted to. Not unless he went back to the time he came from first, anyway. But he doesn’t remember any of that.”

  “I see ….” Khashya breathed, not really understanding at all. “But how could they … I mean … is it really possible?”

  “They had help,” Baya said, not looking at the high priestess.

  Khashya grabbed Baya’s arm, turning her back around towards her. “Tell me,” she demanded, her lips thinned, her eyes searching for answers within Baya’s.

  “They’re called Singers,” Baya told her, knowing her face would show her anger. She had not wanted to reveal this much. Had not. But there was no way out now. None at all. “They are a part of our world, and a part of the whole of the universe. They are what helps to keep our world in balance with the rest of the … dimensions. And realms. And time itself. We hear them. But we are not called to join them. Not most of us anyway,” she amended.

  “They helped to .. to … what? Kill Sharun?” she asked, struggling not to frighten Baya into not telling her. “I’m not mad, Baya,” she said, even though she knew her tone of voice wouldn’t convince her. “I am … just … just .. finding out something very important, and I’m trying to understand. Please,” she softened her tone, reaching out to touch the younger woman’s face. “Help me to understand.”

  “The Singers didn’t kill Sharun. Someone else did. In another time. It was too late to save him by the time they found him. But the Singers helped to bring the new Sharun here by protecting him with vibrations from this time. I don’t know everything. I wasn’t much older than he was at the time. He was my best friend and they th
ought I would be able to help. But …” she inhaled deeply. “I couldn’t. And so he died. And they brought back the new Sharun who didn’t even like me.” She shrugged then, looking for all the world like a ten year old girl who had lost her best friend. Khashya reached out to hug her, smoothing down her hair, making shushing sounds.

  “And now the “new” Sharun is here. Again,” Khashya sighed.

  “Again,” Baya agreed. “He knows something is wrong, but he doesn’t understand what. And I’m afraid …”

  “You’re afraid this Sharun will become like the first one,” Khashya guessed. She could feel Baya nodding her head against her chest.

  “Chared must choose,” Aku told them excitedly, tugging on Baya’s shirt again, with her face lit up as if she had just heard the most wonderful news ever.

  Baya turned around to see what was happening behind her, only to see her father, Chared, running towards a group of people with P’onyem at the center of it. He was waving his arms and shouting something she couldn’t hear. The two people P’onyem had made appear from sand pouring out of her hands while they were still on the roof of the Temple of Life were standing in front of her. They looked like they were going to fight her. The woman had her fists raised and the man had a dagger in his hand. And the Sea God was standing next to them, looking like he was very angry. What was going on now?

  * * * * * * * *

  “Stop!” Chared screamed, over and over again, waving his arms in the air above his head as he ran towards his mother. “Please! P’onyem stop!” He was so tempted to just grab the grid lines to be there in an instant, but after his experiences with his father, he wasn’t willing to try it again. Not here. No matter if time had been returned to “normal” here or not, there was no way to predict what might happen, and if they didn’t behave the way he knew they should, then all three of them would be dead, and he wouldn’t have helped them at all.

  “Mother!” Chared shouted, as he got nearer, nearly out of breath. “Stop! Please. Oh please – just stop!” To his utter relief, he saw her turn his head towards him. He nearly fell to the ground with relief, but kept going, if slowing his pace a bit, so he might be able to catch his breath.

  Drena and Jonath were standing in front of P’onyem, who had her hands raised in the same way she had done on the rooftop of the Temple of Life. Jarles was standing next to them, furious, but uncertain. There was no doubt in Chared’s mind it was her intention to return them to their own time line. Drena’s body would rest, once more, spread out across the desert in a bloody mess, having been cut to pieces by the priests of the Blue Dolphin in order to hide their betrayal, and Jonath’s shriveled body, bereft of its life waters, would lie hidden somewhere within the labyrinth beneath the Temple of Life. No. He would not have it.

  “I am glad hearted to see you free of Amphedia’s control,” he heard his mother’s voice as he drew near.

  “Mother,” he breathed, dropping to his knees between her and Drena and Jonath. “Take me instead,” he pleaded. “These are good people who did nothing to deserve their deaths. You know it to be true. Amphedia lied and the priests killed Drena to cover their shame. Please, mother, if you must take someone, take me.”

  She stood there, her arms raised, her face turned away from him. How he wished he could see her real face, and not this apparition made of sand. Of course, it was his own fault she was here at all, and especially in this form.

  … in this form … Sand. Giya had made her from sand and when she had died, she had returned to sand – right before his eyes! Yes! That was it! If anything could persuade her, it would be Giya.

  “You have always been in the service of the Earth Goddess, Mother. It was she who made it possible for Denit to rise as the Sun Goddess. These people have been returned to us because Giya made it possible. She created Denit much the same as she created you. Denit brought them back because they shouldn’t have died. Please, Mother. Hear me. Spare these two good people, Jonath and Drena. They have suffered enough. You died in Giya’s service because of me, not because of them. You died trying to help their son, Jarles. Let them live, I beg of you.”

  “Their presence here is disrupting time. They must be returned,” was all she said as she raised her hands higher.

  “No!” Chared screamed, lunging towards her … and passing completely through her. As he landed on the hard ground, he heard Aku’s voice as she had spoken to him while they had been on the rooftop. She had been so happy to tell him, and he had been delighted to see her smile at him. “The path is clear,” she had told him, “but you will have to choose.” She had smiled at him again, happy for reasons he could not fathom. She had told him that he wouldn’t like either choice, but that he would choose right. In this moment, at this place, he understood exactly what she had meant. And she was right. He would choose right. With a sob rising in his throat, he got to his feet and ran for the barrier surrounding the inner circle of Jikangai. As he ran, he heard voices raised in confusion and protest, but what he did not hear was a scream of terror. P’onyem hadn’t sent them back. Not yet. She, too, was watching him. Throwing his arms wide, he ran into the barrier with a wordless shout.

  For a moment, perhaps two, the magical energies held him and shook him as a dog might shake a bone, and then he was gone. Aku calmly walked forward and began weaving symbols in the air, ignoring Baya’s demands that she explain herself. When the barrier had absorbed Chared’s body, the place where he’d been had turned a kind of blue white. As Aku etched symbols in the air, the blue white stain could be seen separating itself from the wall of the barrier, stretching out towards her hands, to rest there. When she was satisfied with what she had collected, she turned away from the barrier.

  With a smile and tears running down her face, she walked towards Drena and Jonath, stopping just short of them. Raising her own hands, she spread her fingers. Ignoring the astonished gasps surrounding her, she smiled as the energy from Chared’s sacrifice engulfed them. Those who could hear the vibrations shift felt their hearts filled with joy. When Aku announced, “You are in our time now,” P’onyem once again returned to sand.

  * * * * * * * *

  In the Second Circle of Jikangai, Yakuza shook his head, not understanding how he’d arrived here. Looking around, he saw all the others doing the same, looking at each other with shocked expressions. His grandfather, though, was nowhere to be found. He turned sharply when he heard one of the people with him cry out.

  “Oh!” Honsa shouted, falling to his knees. “It’s all right! It’s still here!” He dug his hands deep into the soil, rubbing a handful through his fingers, then picked up some more, rubbing his hands through it, over and over again, tears falling freely down his face. “It’s not too late!” he sobbed. Then he rubbed some of the dirt on his face, inhaling deeply, more grateful in that moment for dirt and the earth than he had ever been.

  “What are you doing?!” Yakuza suddenly shouted, pointing at a young girl who was drawing patterns in the air all around her. “You must stop!”

  But it was too late. The Song was moving towards a crescendo, the master of itself, flowing through time and space towards the change necessary to restore its harmony. Or to destroy itself in the making of a more perfect balance. To this end, it released more of the Singers Aku had called forth with the frequency of her own song in the patterns she was weaving. Unlike Yakuza, who had been returned to life above the mantle with his physical body intact, these Singers were disembodied spirits whose sole purpose was to engage in the melody Aku was creating, responding simply because they had been called using the vibrations reserved for a specific task. Akin to the formation of a tornado because precise conditions had culminated in its creation, so too, were the Singers being ripped from their space-time to barrel through the Second Circle of Jikangai until their task was completed: the destruction of the barrier Lumas had so long ago created.

  * * * * * * * *

  Lost in the act of creation, Aku thought she heard a voice speaking to her, b
ut didn’t understand the language being spoken. And then she saw his face, even through the mania of her weaving. And just like that, she realized she had seen the wrong future. Somehow, she had been deceived.

  ::Help me Aku,:: the voice of Sharun reached her through the overwhelming fear and despair threatening to shut her down permanently. ::You know how. Nobody else does, but you do. I need your help. Please.::

  She watched as he poked one finger here, and another one there, then drew a line to connect to yet a third dot which had appeared on its own, and she understood. It had been his own time frequency which had reached out to her. His original frequency from when he had been insane. From the past. And though she was not a male, she was Chared’s daughter. She should have known better, but right now, she had to undo what she had called forth, or the barrier surrounding Jikangai would be destroyed, and the world with it.

  * * * * * * * *

  “You did not listen. I told you the Song does not decide. I did not tell you that Singers do not.”

  No matter how Denit tried to distract herself, those words kept coming back to haunt and taunt her. As if there was something she was missing. Youni was the Singer who had moved her outside of time altogether. Was that even possible? Youni had said that because Giya had made her from Void magic, that she had to stay here, or she would be written out of the Song – out of life altogether – as if she had never existed. Youni had called it “magic without time.”

  Time, Denit sighed to herself. If she had her life to live over again – even if she had been “created” and not born! – she would have spent so much more of it with her son, Jonath. Leaning back against the rough wall of the cave, she thought that if Youni was going to leave her in this … place for very long that she should have at least brought her to a place that was comfortable! She snorted at the thought; rarely had she lived anywhere that was what anyone might consider comfortable! She wondered then, if Jonath was comfortable. She had tried to bring him back from the past – from death – using that damned crystal. She was so sure it would work. There were times when she was certain it had. Probably just wishful thinking on her part, she was sure. But still, she would have sworn that she sometimes felt him, as she used to when he was still alive.