Oracle Dreams Trilogy

by Teri Barnett

  “Now what?”

  “I don’t have anything to light the torch with.”

  Connor stood and dug into his pants pockets. He held out his hand to her. “Try this.”

  Bethany squinted to see in the fading light just exactly what he was holding. She wrinkled up her nose. “Why, it’s only a rock. And a piece of metal. How in the world can that help?”

  “Trust me,” he said grinning, taking the torch from her hand.

  “Not likely,” she said under her breath, watching as he propped the stick against the stone wall.

  Connor began to strike the two objects together, working to steady his hands long enough to make contact. Sparks flew until, at last, the torch started to smolder. He leaned over and blew at it until the fire started.

  “How did you do that? You only have those two pieces. How can that make fire?” Bethany was beside herself with curiosity.

  “Are you making fun of me?” Connor asked warily. He plopped himself down on the ground. “Everyone knows about flint.”

  “Perhaps they do in your world, Connor, but in mine, we use a liquid that ignites on contact. It runs underground in streams.” Bethany picked up the torch and stuck it into a small round hole carved into the wall near the stair. “Of course, that can make for some terrible fires if you’re not careful. Those stones of yours could be quite useful.” She turned around to find Connor staring at her. Her breath caught. “Yes?”

  “You say you’re not an angel, but you move with the grace of one. The fire shines its light and you glow,” he whispered.

  She was both surprised and embarrassed at the tenderness of his words. “You truly have a poet’s heart, Connor Jessup.”

  “Yeah, well, I used to like to read. You know, Shakespeare, Browning, all those writers.”

  “I’m afraid I’m not familiar with them.”

  “No, I suppose you wouldn’t be. They’re from my world.” He gasped and doubled over, clutching his stomach.

  Bethany rushed to his side. “Tell me where the pain is.”

  Connor shook his head, recovering. “I’m fine. Really.” He forced himself to stand, still holding his midsection. “Isn’t there some place around here where I can get a drink? It wouldn’t have to be real strong, just something passable.” He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m so dry I can’t even work up a good spit.”

  “The best I can do is water,” Bethany replied. “Based on the architecture of past kiyolos I’ve explored, there should be a spring in the altar room. Will that be all right?”

  “I suppose it’d be better than nothing. I hope my stomach won’t be too upset with me.” He blew out a breath and straightened. “So, what d’ya say we have a look around then?”

  Bethany nodded, her eyes still on Connor. “There’s usually an antechamber just past this main entrance. Beyond there, we should find the altar room.” She picked up the torch. “This way,” she pointed with the flame toward the back of the kiyolo.

  “Do you want me to go first?” Connor asked, smirking.

  She didn’t reply, but gave him a narrow eyed glare. With a toss of her head, the long blonde mane shivered down Bethany’s back. Connor hung back, watching the easy sway of her hips as she walked, a slight smile playing about his lips.

  “Aren’t you coming?” she asked, not even bothering to look back.

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m on my way.” He started to follow when a sharp pain shot through his body. Connor broke out in a cold sweat and leaned wearily against the wall of the passageway. “Wait a minute, Angel. I don’t feel so good.” He let his body slide down the stone until he was sitting on the ground. “Maybe you could bring the drink out here.”

  Bethany hurried to his side and crouched down near him. “Won’t you let me heal you now? I tell you I can ease your suffering.”

  Connor studied her face in the torch light. He reached out his hand and, hesitantly, touched her cheek. “Can you keep me from dying?”

  “No one can, Connor. If it’s your time, there’s nothing I can do about it. I can only make your remaining days more comfortable,” she whispered.

  “You said days. Is that all I have left?”

  Bethany started to look away, but Connor put both hands on her face and forced her to look at him. Tears welled in her eyes as they changed from topaz to azure. “What are you doing?” he asked warily.

  “Don’t be afraid. I only want to help you.”

  Connor shoved Bethany away as another spasm passed through his stomach. “I tell you I don’t want your help.” He looked past her. “I don’t deserve it.”

  “Everyone deserves to be well, Connor. The drink you consume has done this to you. Don’t you see?” Her eyes shifted to their original color and she sat back on her heels. Shaking her head, she took the torch and entered the antechamber, leaving Connor alone with his pain and his demons.

  Chapter 15

  “This is beautiful,” Bethany breathed upon entering the antechamber. Here was a kiyolo that had yet to be explored by the Diggers of Paran, so it was still intact. The walls contained dark and colorful ground pigment paintings, each outlining a different event in the life of Eitel. Here, to the left, was his birth from inside of a kiyolo. That’s why the word translates into ‘womb’, she thought. She knew that some women entered those nearest their village when it came time to deliver. According to legend, it would ease their pain.

  In the middle was a depiction of Eitel as a young boy. Surrounded by animals, his hands were raised to the heavens in solitary prayer. Bethany shook her head. How could one who seemed so innocent advocate the destruction of children?

  Lastly, to the right, was Eitel as a man, fighting in the midst of a great war. Hovering over his shoulder was an ethereal being, painted in translucent hues. She appeared to be whispering into his ear as the soul of his enemy passed from the enemy’s mouth into Eitel’s. Blood and carnage were everywhere.

  How did one person come by a power so strong that people would run to him, professing a belief in all he did? Bethany wondered. For surely, the man was evil and it was beyond her that his followers didn’t understand this. But then perhaps they did, only they chose to simply accept it to further their own gains. This new High Priestess is just another in a long line of those caught up in the greedy magic of Eitel. Bethany shivered. When did legend become fact and why should her daughter be at the mercy of people such as this?

  Bethany fell to her knees and raised her arms, tears stinging her eyes. “Mother of All, I pray that you keep my Sarah safe in your care until she’s returned to me. Please, watch over all the children whose lives have been touched by this evil.”

  “Bethany?” a weak voice called from outside the antechamber.

  “And help me to understand this man and my feelings for him,” she muttered under her breath. She rose and made her way into the passage to find Connor standing again.

  “Did you find anything?”

  “Come. I’ll show you.” He took a few steps, then faltered. She wrapped his right arm over her shoulders and helped him into the next room.

  Slowly, he looked from one wall to another, studying the paintings. “Whose life story is this?”

  “Eitel. The founder of the Eitellans.”

  “Given his name, I could have guessed he was the founder. Thanks for the explanation anyway.” Connor’s eyes crinkled at the corners in a slight smile.

  Bethany let go of his arm, letting it fall from her shoulders. “I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.”

  “Mmm. So-so.” He moved to lean against the wall, taking in a deep, ragged breath.

  “Can you travel?” Bethany asked.

  Connor glanced up, the sweat breaking out on his forehead as another spasm shook him. “Maybe,” he managed to answer. He held his breath for a moment, then let it out slowly. “I could try.”

&
nbsp; Bethany fought against her instincts to run into the night, searching for Sarah. It was late and they could both use a night of rest before tomorrow’s journey.

  “That’s all right, Connor. We’ll stay here tonight and get an early start in the morning.” She looked around at the images, feeling the eyes following her every move. “Maybe we should go into the altar room and sleep there. You wanted a drink anyway, didn’t you?”

  “Sure,” Connor shivered and rubbed his hands up and down his arms. “Do you find it cold in here?”

  “No, I’m comfortable. Are you sure you’re going to be all right?”

  He nodded. “So, where’s the door to this altar room?”

  “Over here.” She ran her fingers along a line carved into the wall. “This is the entrance.” Bethany shoved her body against the stone. It shifted slightly, creaking its protests at having been disturbed. She gave it another push and it opened fully, a fine stream of dirt falling to the ground. She thrust the torch into the room, illuminating the interior.

  Again, the scurrying of small animals could be heard. Bethany shivered. “I hate rodents.”

  “Well, you’re not alone. Sure you want to sleep in there?”

  Bethany straightened her shoulders. “I’m not afraid.”

  “I didn’t say you were.”

  “You implied it.”

  “Look, Angel, I really don’t feel like arguing with you right now. Can we just go inside and get that water?”

  “Of course, forgive me,” Bethany answered, ashamed at having baited the man. Had she forgotten all of her duties as a healer? He was ailing, after all.

  She waved the torch ahead of her and spotted another carved hole in the wall near the opening. Depositing the stick there, she went back to Connor and helped him into the chamber. They both stopped just past the doorway. In the center of the room sat a large statue of a woman. It was in a cross-legged position, its head almost touching the ceiling. The features were painted, similar to the murals of Eitel and it appeared that the room had been carved out around the figure. Bethany went to the statue and saw it was sitting on a flat stone base. Kneeling down, she could make out the cuneiform writing that covered it.

  “What d’ya see?” Connor asked.

  “There’s writing here.” Bethany started to decipher it when her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of trickling water. As lost as she was in this latest discovery, she’d forgotten to get Connor his drink.

  Bethany pulled a small wooden cup from her pouch, turning it over in her hands. The geometric designs her father had painted on the outside were almost worn away. She was only a little bit older than Sarah when he made it for her. She approached the fountain. It was carved out of the side of the cave. The water ran over a large bowl and into a narrow trench that ran across the floor and under the statue, cutting the room in half. She filled the cup with the cool liquid for Connor and soaked her scarf for his brow.

  She knelt by his side where he lay on the hard floor. Perspiration dripped from his forehead and ran down the side of his face, leaving streaks in the grime that covered it. Bethany helped him lift his head and drink. Slowly easing him back down, she wiped at his cheeks and brow.

  “You have a gentle touch,” he murmured. “You truly are an angel.

  Bethany was glad for the semi-darkness as the heat of a blush warmed her face.

  I’m twenty-eight years old, and the man’s making me blush! Get a hold of yourself.

  She could not allow her growing connection with Connor to interfere with her urgent need to find Sarah.

  And what about Ian?

  They were just friends. And Connor was here because of Sarah, and besides, he was ill from the drink. He’d been drinking so much that he’d poisoned his body and stubborn as he was, he wouldn’t let her heal him. Maybe this was a sign from the Mother of All. She shook her head. She was being foolish. The man was dying and she seriously doubted his mental capacity. “I’ve truly gone mad this time,” she muttered.

  “Wha-what’d you say?”

  “Nothing. I’m going to look around. You stay here.” She folded her scarf and left it on his forehead.

  “I don’t think I could go anywhere, even if I wanted to.” Connor reached for her hand. “Thank you.”

  Bethany’s eyes caught his. She smiled. “You’re welcome.” She pushed herself to her feet, returning to the statue.

  Running her fingers over the markings, she went into the Knowing. Before her, the visions of dozens of workers filled the room. Stripped to the waist, men and women alike, they toiled in the damp heat that prevailed in the cave, carving it from the surrounding rock. Their bodies glistening with sweat in the torchlight, Bethany watched as they carved the writing symbols into the stone of the statue. Small pieces of basalt flew through the air as they were chipped away.

  “In whose image do you carve this statue?” she asked.

  The memory of the scribe, still held deep in the stone, answered her question. “She is Yongi, the High Priestess of Eitel,” the statue whispered its reply, its voice deep and reverberating around the room.

  Bethany continued to stare in fascination at the vision. The workers motions were swift and fluid as they removed rocks and opened up the underground spring. The water flowed into the room with a great rush, spraying its coolness onto those standing nearby.

  She should have guessed whom the image represented. The legends spoke of this woman, the first of the High Priestesses. Maud Hekate had told of her during the weaving of the story of Eitel. Bethany looked closer at the face and its solemn expression. Again, the scribe spoke, this time in response to her unasked question. “Yes, this is the same woman. It is she who is shown floating in the battle painting of Eitel. Yongi traveled from another plane, Junius, bringing with her the secrets to extending life. These secrets will be passed down from one High Priestess to another, as only she will be allowed to live on.”

  Letting the image of the worker fade away, Bethany ran her hand over a few lines of writing. ‘Extending life’ he had said. So, they weren’t immortal after all. Depending on how many children they were able to capture, the Priestess’s only lived on longer than their worshippers, so they appeared to last forever. That meant the Priestess could possibly be vanquished. But how?

  Bethany released the Knowing and read on, thankful she had studied the ancient forms of writing for her job with the Diggers. The very last line told her what she needed to know.

  “If you would seek my spiritual descendant’s destruction for your own chance to ascend to power, you must not fear that which you would bring to her. The laws governing the way of the High Priestess are revealed at the Kiyolo of the Night, one hundred sixty rods south, then due west following the path of the night star. But be warned. If you would waiver from your purpose, the price paid is forfeiture of your soul to the Priestess plus the years you have left to live as well.”

  Chapter 16

  The approaching winter blew its bone-chilling wind from the south. It swirled in the black sky and sliced through the clouds, caressing Bethany with its icy fingers as she climbed out of the kiyolo. She pulled her brightly colored shawl tightly around her shoulders, peering into the night.

  I hope you’re able to keep warm, my sweet Sarah.

  Her heart clenched. If Sarah had been safe at home, Bethany would be telling her a story before bed right now. Sometimes Bethany shared sweet and poignant stories about her husband, Sarah’s father. before he was killed. Bethany feared Sarah would forget the man who’d meant so much to them—she wanted her to remember him always. Other times, she spoke of the legends of their people.

  The slight crescent moon had all but disappeared from sight, taking the stars with it. It seemed to Bethany they were trying to hide. Did the very elements sense the madness that radiated from her world? She took a deep breath, fighting the panic that threatened to take ove
r, fearing she’d become immobilized by it and never find her child.

  We’ll be together soon, Daughter. I promise.

  Bethany re-entered the kiyolo with an armload of dried branches. In the altar room, she found Connor dozing. In sleep, the stress lines on his face relaxed, making him appear much younger. As she watched, he began to stir fitfully, his body wracked with chills.

  Carefully, Bethany arranged some heavy stones she had gathered earlier into a circle, then placed the branches within it. Using the torch Connor had lit, she started a fire.

  Tomorrow’s journey to the Kiyolo of the Night would be difficult. Though one hundred sixty rods wasn’t a great distance to travel, the land formation to the south was treacherous to cross, especially with winter approaching. She would need her rest to face whatever lay ahead.

  She curled up near the fire, laying her head down on her arm. She had to get there as soon as possible to learn how to defeat the Priestess.

  I have to free Sarah.

  “No! No!”

  The screams tore through Bethany’s sleep. She sat up in a panic and looked in the direction they had come from. There, to her left, Connor lay, his arms flailing about him.

  “Get ‘em off me! Get ‘em off!”

  She jumped to her feet. “What is it?” she asked, frantically searching his face and arms. “I don’t see anything.”

  “Locust.” He grabbed her shirt and yanked her down near his face. “You gotta get rid of ‘em, Angel. They’ll eat my eyes right outta the sockets!”