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

by Kyrja

  “That’s a good question,” Zaria answered, not taking her eyes off of what the others were doing.

  “Do you miss it?” Kraas asked, pointing at the girl they knew was the last Fire Tender.

  “Killing people every day of my life?” Zaria snorted. “No. Definitely not. But I like what she’s doing,” she added, leaning back against the tree. “And she’s right.”

  “Who is?” Kraas asked, frowning, lost in her own thoughts.

  “Sina. The girl,” Zaria replied. “The one who’s a Fire Tender. Who is still a Fire Tender. I wonder if Denit will take her powers away from her.”

  “What is she right about?” Kraas wanted to know, leaning forward, as if doing so would provide her a better view of what was going on.

  “About using her powers to help strip Deiserin of her fear of being old,” Zaria explained.

  “Is that what they’re doing? Huh. Do you think that would work for me?” Kraas laughed, throwing the core of the fruit into the bushes to her left.

  “Ha!” Zaria chuckled. “That isn’t something you will have to be worried about for a long time to come. You’re beautiful.” She leaned over, putting her head on Kraas’ shoulder, sighing.

  Smiling to herself, Kraas kissed the top of Zaria’s head. “What do you think Sakari is up to? Do you think she’s all right?”

  “Yes,” Zaria answered immediately. “She’s always all right, no matter what kind of trouble she gets in. But you,” Zaria emphasized the word as she turned her head to look into the other woman’s eyes, “already know that.” She smiled at her before moving her face closer, then kissed her.

  Kissing her back harder, Kraas settled back against the tree, saying, “Well I hope someone has a plan for getting us back. I’m sure she misses us.”

  * * * * * * * *

  Kaya knew he was very, very angry and wanted to throw things, or break them, or maybe just beat someone up for a while until he felt better, but he couldn’t really feel that anger, even though he wanted to in the worst possible way. The only thing he knew he could feel was foolish. Downright stupid. How, by Sov’s damned eye had he let himself be talked into such a stupid idea?

  ::Because you’re selfish:: he heard Fumaini’s voice taunt him.

  “Selfish?!” Kaya asked, incredulous. “How am I selfish?”

  ::If you weren’t so concerned about everyone else, then you wouldn’t be doing this. The only reason you care about everyone else is because doing so makes you feel good. If you were smart, you would only consider what is best for you, instead of what feels good.:: Fumaini’s voice replied, smug.

  Kaya could feel the man’s smugness, daring him to try contradicting his reasoning.

  Great, he thought, I can feel his emotions, but not my own.

  ::Stop wasting time!:: Fumaini’s voice told him. ::Time is a luxury we can ill afford.::

  “I still feel dizzy,” Kaya told him, as he tried to stand up, then felt himself falling over. Reaching out a hand to grab on to anything that might stop his fall, his hand found the edge of the Jadu box. Immediately realizing what it was, even in his confusion, Kaya pulled his hand away from it as if he had accidently grabbed a sword still hot from the forge, and found himself face-down on the ground. Moaning, dizzy, and in pain, he passed out.

  When Kaya opened his eyes, he was still lying on the tile floor of the secret chamber where Rhian’s soldiers had put the Jadu box once Fumaini had been removed from it. At least, that’s what the former councilor had told him. If they had left him in the box when Aidena had delivered her prize from the battlefield, he would have been protected from the death spell when it had been activated by Rajesh taking the emperor to Jikangai. Kaya knew Fumaini was well and truly furious for having been removed from the box, but since there was absolutely nothing he could do about – especially given the fact that his physical body was a very long way away from the palace, he was doing the next best thing, by taking the Andhera Stone to Badala in order to get the other half. Without it, anyone who tried to enter the palace for next thousand years would die.

  When Kaya asked Fumaini why he was even bothering to retrieve the other half of the stone, since he was dead and wouldn’t benefit from it no matter what he did, he said that he served the empire, no matter who was the emperor – or empress – regardless of whether he was living or dead. Kaya had grave doubts about that particular claim, but whatever Fumaini’s real goal was, he wanted to make sure Rhian and the others didn’t arrive dead once they returned from wherever they might be. Still, he was none too thrilled that he was the only one who seemed to be able to help fix this gigantic mess made using magic! And no matter what it took, he was going to make sure that damned Jadu box was destroyed as soon as possible. It was positively evil, and could be used for nothing, other than stealing the life from one person to give to another.

  Kaya had seriously thought about walking away, to see if he could find this Badala on his own, rather than submit himself to the “experiment” Fumaini assured him over and over again would “absolutely” work. But even if he could find out where it was quickly, and could surround the palace with people to make sure nobody went in while he was away … there was always the chance that someone would try to get in anyway. And undoubtedly, that “someone” would be Rhian. So here he was, sitting on the floor of some “secret” chamber, with a horrible headache, and Fumaini screaming in his head to get moving.

  Moving slowly, Kaya pulled himself up, using the table the Jadu box was resting on to get to his feet, then stopped to look inside the vile thing again. It really did look like a coffin, he thought, feeling sick all over again. He shivered, backing away from it. There were rows upon rows of bumps lining the inside of the thing. They were all black, as if they had been painted over, or some substance had been used to cover up what each “bump” was, but Kaya had a feeling – one he couldn’t explain – that each of those bumps was some kind of gemstone. When he had stood up to look inside of it, he’d thought he would try to scratch the black off of one of the bumps to confirm his suspicions, but just looking at the box made him want to scream. Again. Snorting with disgust, he rubbed his throat, remembering the screams. His screams. It had been the worse experience of his life, including everything he’d seen and done while at war.

  Since he could think of no other way to make sure Rhian and their people were safe, he had lowered himself into the Juda box, laying in it exactly as a corpse would, then had closed the lid. Almost immediately, he had felt the intrusive presence of Fumaini’s … essence … life force … he really didn’t have a word for it. Consciousness, he supposed. No matter what it might rightly be called, he could hear Fumaini’s thoughts … and demands … clearly as if they were his own. But they were in a different voice – even a different accent! – than his own. The councilor had been screaming at him for the past several minutes, demanding that he pick up the stone and take them to Badala. Kaya was pleased to discover that no matter what Fumaini wanted from him, the councilor wasn’t able to control his actions. Having established that fact, he picked up the Andhera Stone, meaning to ask what their next step would be, when he felt an energy from the stone envelope him, and then felt his body dissolving.

  * * * * * * * *

  “There is one more thing I would show you,” Aku announced.

  “There is absolutely nothing more wonderful that you could show us than what you already have, Aku,” Baya told her sister, smiling, her arm hooked through Chared’s.

  “This, I’m sorry to say, is not a wonderful thing. It is, however, something we will need to … consider … “ she paused, looking at each of her siblings in turn. “And soon,” she added. Then she turned away from them, raising her hands. “Youni, please join us,” she said, quietly.

  A woman appeared before them whose skin was darker than any of them had seen before, marking her as an ancestor of the desert dwellers who called themselves the Tuq’deb. Rarely were any of the people Aku had met anything but various hues of browns, dar
k and light alike. There were a few people scattered here and there, especially in the City by the Sea, whose skin was much lighter than her own – probably from ancestors who had fled or moved from Midbar. This woman’s skin was very dark, with braids piled on top of her head, hanging past her shoulders. Her eyes were the most-striking thing about her, Aku knew, her own gaze immediately drawn to them. Perhaps I will have golden eyes one day, she thought, and hoped so.

  “The Song has changed much this day,” Aku said, bowing formally. “Our thanks to you and the Singers for your help.” She was pleased when she heard the rustling of material behind her, telling her that her brothers and sisters had followed her lead in having bowed to Youni.

  “And yet you want my help once more,” Youni said, her face immobile.

  “Yes,” Aku said, looking at her, her own face devoid of emotion.

  “Do not ask again,” Youni told her. “The Song calls me.”

  “May you sing freely forever,” Aku bowed to her once more. When she stood up, Youni was gone, and where she had stood was a clear portal, showing a scene on a beach, the waves rolling in further and further, as the tide continued towards its high mark.

  “What … ?” Baya started to ask, but stopped as soon as Aku held up her hand for silence. As they watched, they saw a woman walking along the shoreline with a young girl who appeared to be about ten years old, perhaps a little older. She was running in and out of the water, playing “chase” with the waves. Before long, though, she came upon a body lying on the sand. She seemed to be fascinated, and not at all disturbed or afraid, as she skipped in circles around it. It was a man, as they could all see, whose face was turned towards them, but was too far away to identify – if, indeed, any of them would have known him in any case.

  Aku hummed three notes in succession, bring the man’s face closer and heard Baya gasp. The woman bent over the man, digging something out of his chest. Nor had the object been in a pocket, as it came away bloody.

  “What will we do with it?” they all heard the girl ask the woman, her eyes bright as she looked at the blue stone, shaped like a tear drop.

  “Why, start a new empire of course,” the woman laughed, then held out her hand for the girl to take.

  “That,” Aku told them, as the portal faded, “was Amphedia, the Storm Goddess. And the granddaughter of Siri Ventus, the Goddess of Air.

  “But Nieva is right over there,” Baya protested, pointing, “with Denit and Giya and the others.”

  “She has been sundered. Separated. This child is not from another realm nor another time,” Aku told them, her tone grave. “This child is also that child,” she nodded where Baya had just pointed. “And that man was Sabbah – the grandfather of the Sea God Jarles, who is also the former mate of the Sun Goddess, Denit. From our time.” She paused, her face serious. “We must not allow this to continue. Will you help me to right this wrong?” she asked.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight – Sharing the Moon

  Deiserin felt her whole body trembling. She was scared. Terrified. These past many years … hundreds of years? had been horrific for her. It wasn’t even so much the fact that she had been a tortoise. If Lumas had simply turned her into an animal – of any kind – it wouldn’t have been so terrible. Even having a human consciousness trapped inside of an animal’s body wouldn’t have been as intolerable as it had been to be forced to do nothing – absolutely nothing – for years and years upon end. She had never been tired, never been hungry, and had never been thirsty. Never. She had eaten fish and grass and leaves at times, and drank as often as she could, just for something to do. She had dreamed of the day when she would be able to just stop. And today, at long, long last, had been that day. For the past hour or more, she had been able to just lie in the grass, listening to people talk and plan, and do amazing things. They had even given her food and drink. And now they had decided they must release her from this body. If there would have been some way to communicate with them to just leave her be, she was fairly certain she would have asked them to do exactly that. To just walk away and leave her alone. To finally be able to do anything she wanted to do. As a tortoise, she would have no demands placed on her. No decisions to have to make. Nobody to answer to. As a human … and an old one at that … she wasn’t so sure she wanted to have to contend with all the things being human meant again. Undoubtedly, her body would be filled with aches and pains, and she would be worthless. Unproductive. It was cruel to ask her to subject herself to the stares and fingers pointed her way by people who would consider her a nuisance and a … a … novelty or freak of some sort.

  And then, she felt it. She was free, and she was standing on two feet instead of four. She was much too high off of the ground! Her legs collapsed under her, and she fell to the ground, hard, unable to understand how to use her … body parts … to save herself from being hurt. She could do nothing but sit and cry, not even meaning to, but unable to stop. It was all so confusing. She didn’t remember that the skin of her human body was so much more sensitive than her … other body. Nothing worked the same. Nothing. She could hear voices, but couldn’t separate the sounds to make any of it make sense. Oh, why couldn’t they have just left her alone?!

  She could sense when the people moved away from her, and the voices stopped. In the next moment, she saw a moonbeam, shining on the grass in front of her. It wasn’t dark enough yet for the moon to be out. She knew that. That wasn’t something that had ever changed, no matter which body she wore. She didn’t even realize she had stopped crying until it moved closer to her, as if it was going to shine directly on her, and she gasped. She could feel gladness stealing over her heart. The moon! She watched as her hands seem to reach out of their own accord to capture it. But they didn’t try to grasp it. Instead, her fingers spread, and wiggled, and seemed to want to play in the light. Oh! Oh yes! This is what she had been waiting for – to be able to just sit here, anywhere, and bathe in the moon. She felt her shoulders relax and then the quiet sobs started, but she kept her hands in the moon light, turning her hands over and over again, slowly. Grateful. At peace.

  After a while, she felt someone sit down on the ground near her. She wasn’t sure how long they had been there before she realized they were, but it didn’t frighten her when they did. When she saw a bowl of water placed near her, without anyone saying anything, she felt a shiver run up her neck, causing her shoulder to rise – a small reaction to the threat of someone breeching her privacy, but nothing that caused her to have to react. It was offered without any expectations. Nodding to herself, she was thankful for being left alone, but not uncared for. She heard the person – it was a man, she was sure – as he started to hum, low and quietly. She heard other quiet voices join in – all at a distance. Only the man in front of her was close by.

  Eventually, she reached for the bowl, pleased she was able to understand how to use her fingers to pick it up. She tilted the bowl to drink the water, feeling it slide across her lips, into her mouth, and down her throat. She sighed deeply. It was good. And made her throat feel good too. After a few sips, she opened her eyes to see who was sitting across from her, over the rim of the bowl. She felt her lips curl into a smile, and her cheeks lift when she realized who she was looking at.

  “Deiserin,” he said her name, nodding at her with a smile on his face. “I’ve watched you for a very long time. I am so very glad to finally meet you.”

  “You … you … “ She knew the words to say, and even knew how to talk. She simply hadn’t done it in a very long time, except to talk to herself within the confines of her own mind. This was more difficult than she’d thought it might be. He waited patiently, not encouraging her, nor discouraging her either. She had the feeling he was prepared to sit here with her for a long time, waiting for her. “Moon … g-g-god,” she managed. Then pointed at him with one finger while still holding the bowl.

  “Yes,” he said quietly, nodding, and still smiling. “My name is Raito,” he told her, holding out his palm so she could s
ee the light glowing there. When he held it out to her, she reached for it with one hand, then put down the bowl and reached again with both hands. When her hand touched his, she drew back, then reached again, this time putting her hand in his.

  “I can share the moon with you if you like, Deiserin, until you are ready to be with people again. A little at a time, or all at once. I will keep you safe and show you the world as you have never seen it before. I can take you anywhere you would like to go. Or we can stay here, as long as you like. I will stay with you if you will let me.”

  “Yes,” she said, relieved to the very core of her being, then placed both of her hands in his, leaning forward until her head was touching his chest. She whispered slowly to him, not yet used to speaking.

  “Deiserin has asked me to thank her son, Rajesh, for coming to visit her and asks that I take her with me,” he paused for a moment, listening again. “She also thanks everyone for helping her.” Raito took a moment to look at Giya, who nodded at him, then he and Deiserin vanished, taking the light with them as twilight settled in around those who were left behind.

  * * * * * * * *

  Nieva reached out to take her grandfather’s hand, then snuggled into his chest when he reached an arm around her to hold her closer. “Do you think she’ll be all right?” she asked him, nodding at Sina. Ordan was sitting on the ground with the other girl between his legs while she was crying quietly, rocking back and forth. She had become distraught while watching Deiserin, saying how sorry she was for ever having tried to hurt her.

  “I think she has made some wonderful friends today,” Oculis replied, “and that they will help her to get past … “ he paused, considering, “all of this,” he shrugged.

  “Yes,” Denit agreed, coming to sit near them. “Honsa will take her home with him and I have promised to visit often.”