by B. K. Boes
“I don’t know,” she said, her lip quivering. “Colors. A certain kind of dog. A name. Words that need to be said to someone.”
“I remember death and blood and fear.” Jabin’s words caught in his throat. He could still smell the smoke of the fire that nearly killed his sister. Taste the ashes in the air and hear Jenna’s screams. Feel the heat of the fire on his skin as he dragged her out of the barn.
“I’m sorry.” Mae’s eyes were wide as she repeated herself.
Anger faded away in the wake of the look on her face, and Jabin lowered his voice. “No,” he said. “I’m sorry. I just… I can’t think of it as a good thing. These visions… I wish I didn’t have them.”
“I didn’t know.” Mae looked down at her feet, the blood drained from her face.
Jabin sighed, sorry for his outburst. “It’s all right,” he said.
Mae wrapped her arms around her middle, still pale as the moons. At the sight of her frailty, Jabin regretted everything he’d said. He wanted to take it back. He wanted her to be excited about her gift again.
“Your visions are good things; I envy you,” he said. “And even if you do see something terrible, you’re right. It feels good when you hear someone’s been saved because of your gift.”
Mae looked up at him. “How often does it work out that way? I mean, how often do you save people?”
Jabin softened the truth. “Most of the time.”
The corners of her mouth turned up into a smile and her dimples came back. Her eyes were still wet, but that just made them sparkle. “Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“You said you’re coming back in a few days?”
“For my lesson.”
“You could come by early. I’m probably going to sit in on your lesson. You could meet me under the wisdom tree and give me a few tips.”
Jabin agreed, and she left him at the gate, looking over her shoulder as she went back up the path. He watched her until she went inside. On the way home, he had something to think about besides his father’s expectations and the details of his vision. He thought of Mae and her dimples and how his heart fluttered in her presence.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Moloch
The City of Pytar, Ergon
6th Cycle of Chenack
989 Post Schism
Before Moloch attempted to convince King Gonnoss of Ergon to destroy the bridges, he had to convince his own king that the plan would work. His father traveled with him to Patriphos to support him as he explained how eliminating two of the Ancient Bridges would permanently hinder the Adikeans from invading the North.
They met in the royal consultation chamber, a room with no furniture, save one throne upon a dais. The room had no windows and was lit by torches surrounding the perimeter. King Shamylle was unreadable as Moloch spoke, and when he finished, the king shifted on his throne and looked at Nibal.
“This is a bold move, General.” He seemed to choose his words carefully. “I’m not against the idea, but it seems extreme. The Ancient Bridges are revered by many, especially the Ergonians. They are unexplainable masterpieces, the way they stretch over the acidic valley with only the occasional plateau to support them. There’s a low likelihood Gonnoss would agree.”
“Your Majesty, it is bold. Brilliantly so,” Nibal said. “There’s no doubt that without the bridges to the west of Pytar, Ergon would be a safer place. They could once again farm their lands in peace. The people of the Radelle Mountains could mine and raise their goats without fear. That would benefit all of Leyumin, sire. Ergonian land is the most fertile we’ve got. I believe this would outweigh all else.”
“And this was all your idea, Moloch?” King Shamylle rubbed his chin, his lips pressed in a straight line. “You’d be willing to take the responsibility that would come with failure?”
“I would,” Moloch said. “But I don’t think it will come to that. Yes, it will be hard to convince the King of Ergon to follow through on my plan, but I believe the benefits outweigh the consequences. King Gonnoss is a smart man, Your Majesty. And a desperate one. I will convince him, and once it’s done, and we’ve purged their lands of Adikeans, Ergon will submit to Eikon as a territory, per our agreement.”
The king nodded. “It could change everything. Cut the Adikeans off to any invasions except by way of sea. If we focused our forces on the west coast, we could keep them out of the North for good.”
“Exactly,” Moloch said.
“Very well. You have my blessing to try,” King Shamylle stood and stepped off the dais. He came up to Moloch and put a hand on his shoulder. “If Gonnoss accepts your proposal, and you’re able to carry it out, you will have been a major part of the beginning of the Unification. Eikon will count you a hero, as will I. May that thought spur you on to victory.”
A mixture of pride and anxiety filled Moloch’s chest. His plan was a good one. It was also risky, able to destroy his dreams for the future. But he kept himself collected in front of his father and the king. He bowed his head. “You honor me with your words, my liege. I will not fail you. I will not fail Eikon.”
A gentle breeze blew across the balcony, softening the harshness of the afternoon sun. Moloch and Junia sat across from each other. The black iron table and chairs weren’t comfortable, but they were pretty. Moloch watched Junia trace the intricate lattice designs with her finger and wondered how he had gotten so lucky as to win her affection. Zuria and Naova, now married, were inside the sitting room, talking quietly. It was always a precious gift, to have a moment of relative privacy with the woman he loved. Moloch savored every second.
“How long will you be in Ergon?” Junia asked.
“If all goes well, a while. I must convince your king to do something… nearly crazy. And then, I must carry it out. If it’s successful, I’ll be part of the Eikonian effort to clear Ergonian lands of Adikeans once and for all. It could take a year. Maybe more.” It hurt to imagine not seeing Junia’s face for such a long time. “But, my love, if it works, I will be the next Duke of Eunoya. And no one on the War Council, no one who could potentially be on the War Council, is a better fit to become the next Chief Military Advisor.”
“And my father will have no more excuses.” Junia took a deep breath. “I’ll miss you,” she said. “But that will thicken my resolve to resist my father’s pressure to marry another.”
Moloch sat up straighter. “He’s pressuring you? To marry who?”
The corner of her lips turned up just slightly. “Don’t be jealous.” She sat back, and the wind played with the auburn wisps of loose hair framing her face. “It’s not one suitor, but many. Which is a good sign. If my father were to narrow his focus, it would be harder.”
Moloch’s stomach twisted into knots. “Will you be able to hold out until I return for you?”
She leaned forward and held out her hand palm upward until Moloch placed his own hand in hers. “I promise you, Moloch. I will never marry another. My father’s stubbornness will break once you’re named the next Duke of Eunoya. No better match would be possible, especially with your undeniable connection to Prince Zuria. There’s no way even his convictions would cloud that fact. My father is passionate, but he’s not stupid. Such a marriage would put our family at an incredible advantage once Ergon swears fealty to King Shamylle.”
“You’re right,” Moloch said, forcing himself to relax, pushing away the fear that all his ambition would leave him alone in the end.
“Of course I am.” Junia’s soft smile fed Moloch’s confidence a little. She squeezed his hand and pulled back, reaching into a satchel she’d brought with her, now hanging on the back of her chair. “I have something for you.”
Junia handed him a hardwood cylinder covered in protective leather. It was a bit longer than his hand. Moloch twisted off the end cap. Inside was a piece of paper, a drawing, lacquered so it would never smudge. It was a self-portrait, and it was beautiful. For a moment, Moloch studied it. It looked exactly like Junia. He
marveled at how she had gotten the sparkle of her emerald eyes just right. How she had matched her auburn hair perfectly, wisps of it tickling her cheeks. How her lips were perfectly full and smiling sweetly.
“What do you think?” Junia bit her lip.
“It’s perfect,” Moloch said, just above a whisper. “You’ve captured all the things I love about you. I can see your kindness and your beauty.” He took her hand and kissed it, smiling at the floral scent of Junia’s skin.
“I wanted you to have a picture of me, and I’ve made myself a picture of you.” She pulled another cylinder from the bag. Opening it, she showed him the pair to his gift.
Moloch laughed, and Junia’s brow furrowed.
“What’s so funny?” she asked. “Is it wrong?”
“Not wrong,” Moloch said, quick to make sure Junia understood. “I just think you took some liberties. I’m not nearly so handsome as that.”
Junia held the portrait up before her. “This is how I see you. I think it’s exactly right.”
“You’re too generous,” Moloch said. “But I love you for it.”
Junia replaced the portrait into the wooden cylinder and slid it back into the bag. Moloch took a moment to look over his gift one more time before doing the same, tucking the cylinder under his arm.
“I’d better go,” Moloch said, glancing at the rising sun. “My father and the king want me to leave as soon as possible.” He stood. “The guard escort and Bram are probably waiting for me already.”
“Bram’s agreed to come?” Junia asked.
“Of course,” Moloch said. “Why wouldn’t he? He’s been by my side longer than anyone.”
“I just meant, with Marna… things seem to be going well there.” Junia stood as well.
“Ah,” Moloch nodded. “Yes, they are, from what I understand. That woman can cook.”
“And I’m sure that’s the least of her positive attributes.” Junia put her hands on her hips. “Don’t ruin this for Bram, Moloch. He’s a good man who deserves a good woman.”
“How could I deny my best friend the pleasure of love, when I know how valuable it really is?” Moloch put his hand on her waist and drew her closer.
“All right, then.” Junia gently kissed his cheek. “Be careful out there,” she said.
“I will.” Moloch squeezed her hand one more time and walked her back into the sitting room where he left her with Naova. Junia had gone from the princess’ chaperone attendant to her lady-in-waiting in order to stay in Eikon.
“We’d best be going,” Zuria said as he kissed his wife on the cheek. Though the prince wasn’t going with Moloch, he had insisted on seeing him off. He accompanied Moloch through the palace as Moloch dismissed the tug of worry Junia’s comments caused.
Bram wouldn’t leave my service, even if he married… would he? Moloch couldn’t imagine what he’d do without the man.
“I wish you good luck.” Zuria’s voice broke through the thought. “My father filled me in on your mission. It won’t be easy.”
“I’m up for the challenge,” Moloch said, grateful for the change in subject as they approached the palace stables. “And besides, where’s the fun in easy?”
Zuria laughed. “That’s the spirit.” He clapped Moloch on the back. “If all goes well, I’ll see you on the battlefield, my friend. Unification is near. I can feel it.”
Bram and his small contingent of soldiers were already mounted and ready to go. Anticipation flowed through Moloch’s veins as he mounted Dancer. He had won the chance against his brother to make history, and with the king’s blessing and Junia waiting for him to return, Moloch felt unstoppable.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Jabin
Yllin Agricultural Estate, Eikon
7th Cycle of Chenack
989 Post Schism
Only a cycle had passed since Mae arrived, and yet, she and Jabin were already fast friends. Jabin spent time with her whenever he had the chance. She was different from anyone he knew. Her ideas, her mannerisms, her sense of humor — no one was quite like her. Jabin had felt so alone in his journey, so isolated from his peers and family. But Mae was so open about herself that he felt invited to talk to her about anything.
For that, he would be forever grateful.
But, for some reason, she couldn’t sit through one lesson with Oracle Lan without inciting an argument. Jabin sat beside her on a stone bench inside the sanctuary. Oracle Lan was opposite them in the small room, sitting on a smooth-topped hunk of stone that served as his chair. A lantern hung on a chain from the ceiling, casting the center of the simple, gray room in a yellowish, flickering light. The corners of the room were left in the dark as there were no windows to bring in the morning light.
As soon as they’d met on the path moments before, Mae had been bursting with excitement. Now, she was telling them both, and with every word Oracle Lan’s lips drew a little tighter and his brow a little lower. She’d seen a woman fall from somewhere high to her death. The only clear clue she could remember was that it happened in a busy place with lots of people, probably in a city.
Jabin would have thought Mae would be disappointed. Up to now, she’d only had words of wisdom and warning from the Sustainer to people around her. Only a small portion of people gifted with visions saw death regularly. It was a terrible thing, and Jabin had envied her. But, instead of being upset, or even disappointed, Mae had been excited, determined the woman’s death would be averted.
“This is my first dream in which I might be able to save someone,” Mae continued. “And I can finally seek out Tamonn once the Sustainer gives me some clarity. He will give me clarity, won’t He, Uncle?” She looked at the oracle with wide eyes.
Tamonn? Jabin sucked in a breath. No one does that anymore. He’d read about the old tradition, when oracles used to go out on their own to save the first person they’d seen die in their visions. It had been considered a right of passage, but the Temple had banned the practice due to the rate of failure and the rate of oracles getting themselves killed in the process.
“Clarity will most likely come, but—”
Mae cut him off. “Of course it will,” she said. “Should I meditate on the dream? Or should I wait for another one?”
“If this last vision was blurry in your memory, the Sustainer very well may give it to you again. You can practice the techniques we’ve spoken of during the next vision to better remember the details once you’ve woken.” He held up a hand. “But when you do get details, there will be no Tamonn.”
Uh oh. Jabin stiffened as he felt the conflict coming. Mae was a great friend, but she was also stubborn. There was no way Oracle Lan would agree to such a reckless course of action.
“What do you mean?” she asked. “I must seek Tamonn. I’ve been looking forward to this since childhood.”
Oracle Lan sighed. “It is an outdated tradition, Mae. One that could get you in a lot of trouble or put you in a lot of danger. You are, in many ways, still a child. We have systems set up that make Tamonn obsolete.”
“But, I could make a difference,” Mae said. “This is my first real vision.”
Oracle Lan rubbed his forehead with his hand and took a deep breath. “You will make a difference when you tell me the details of this woman’s death. I will send word to a sanctuary in the area, and one of the local oracles will do their best to stop it.”
She looked at Jabin. “What do you think?” she asked. “You got to experience Tamonn. Shouldn’t I?”
“What?” Jabin asked. “No, I didn’t.”
“Sure you did,” she said. “When you saved your sister from the fire. The Sustainer gave the vision to you, and you carried out the rescue.”
“That was awful,” Jabin said. “I wish none of it had happened.” He took a deep breath and looked down at his feet. He had almost lost his sister that day.
“That was different,” Oracle Lan said. “He was much younger than most when he had such a clear vision of death. And it happened to s
omeone close to him, not some stranger who could live on the other side of Eikon. And he didn’t know the proper way of things. You’ve had years to understand and learn.”
Mae glared at Oracle Lan. “I’m Sozian, and I’ll do what our traditions require.”
“You’re half Sozian, and no, you won’t,” Oracle Lan’s voice raised a few notches. “Missionaries and sanctuaries are spreading in Sozo, and soon Tamonn will be a thing of the past there, too. You’re too young to go out on your own to solve dangerous situations.”
“When the Temple sent their missionaries and began building their sanctuaries, they disrupted our ways of worship.” Now Mae was on the verge of yelling. “The Sustainer gave me this vision for me to pursue.”
“You’re young, immature, and ill-equipped,” Oracle Lan said.
“If the Sustainer doesn’t want young people to do these things, then why would He give us these types of visions?” Mae asked, raising her brow, her voice edgy and defensive.
“The younger a potential oracle begins having visions, the better adjusted they are as adults. Those few who experience a vision for the first time as an adult generally lose their minds,” Oracle Lan said. “Your visions now will prepare you for your visions later. In the meantime, more experienced oracles — with the help of peacekeepers, if need be — will take care of this woman. There are reasons for everything, Mae. You have to stop being so rebellious.”
“If I’m rebellious, it’s against these man-made rules, not against the Sustainer’s true will,” Mae said. “Even my father — your own brother — sees the value in the old ways. Tamonn is a personal commitment to follow through on my calling. It’s my chance to accept my future through action in the present.”