Night Goddess (The Goddess Prophecies Book 1)
Page 1
NIGHT GODDESS
The Goddess Prophecies
Book One
A. Evermore
The Goddess Prophecies series:
Night Goddess
The Fall Of Celene
Storm Holt
Demon Spear
Dragons Awaken
War Of The Raven
Get Your FREE Book!
When strangers knock on Fraya’s door in the middle of a stormy night, her life is changed forever. The man is a bard, a warrior, and a follower of the Old Ways. The woman is a seer, heavily pregnant with a child so blessed by the goddess, they are forced to flee for their lives from the immortals.
Discover Issa’s origin story in Birth Of A Heroine. This prelude to Night Goddess is FREE for a limited time and not available anywhere else. To get your copy of Birth Of A Heroine and lots more exclusive content, all for FREE, you just need to tell me where to send it. Please go to the sign up page at the back of this book.
FOR FANTASY
Chapter 1
A Raven Flies
‘THE world is falling. Ever since Baelthrom escaped the Dark Rift, nowhere in the worlds of light is safe. If Maioria falls, then so will this galaxy,’ Zanufey said.
In the indigo light that spread across the desert sands, a black shape moved beside her. A beak flashed in the darkness, wings stretched wide then folded back. Feathers shimmered blue with magic. The raven took a step forward and looked up at the pale-faced woman who spoke to him.
Zanufey pointed into the starlit sky, and he followed her finger outwards to the blue and green planet called Maioria looming above them. Beyond it, a dark scar split the universe - a tear of blackest black into which all the stars were being drawn, and their light extinguished forever. The raven shook his head and ruffled his feathers. He looked from the black scar to Maioria, then back to Zanufey. She smiled at him.
‘All is not lost. Among the people there is one who must soon awaken. She will find others who will help. All we can do now is protect them. Go to Maioria and find her. But be careful, Baelthrom knows of the prophecies. He will be watching for you, and for her.’
Out of the darkness and into the sunlit world the raven burst. Dark moon magic cloaked his form and sped him forwards. He hit an invisible force that stripped away his magical shield. Ruddy clouds clustered around him and two blood red triangles formed within them. The eyes of Baelthrom dimmed from red to green.
Wind gusted hard, striking and tearing at the raven’s feathers. He fought forwards, diving up and down, trying to get away from those eyes. A cloud mushroomed beneath him. Flaring his wings and tail feathers, he shot upwards. Angling his wings more keenly, he sought to find just a little more speed. He crested a bulging cloud and hit slack air. Floundering in the sudden emptiness, the raven turned his beak down, fighting for aerial control as he plummeted.
He dropped away from the clouds into fresh air and bright sunlight. Blinded by the light he blinked and fell motionlessly. Magic shimmered around him, once more cloaking his presence. He spread his wings, caught the fast flowing air, and sped away, leaving behind the watching eyes and growling thunder.
‘My darling Issa. There’s something I need to speak to you about whilst a little of my strength has returned,’ Fraya said, controlling the tremors that threatened to shake her voice.
‘You look so lovely today,’ she smiled at her daughter standing in the doorway of her bedroom. The sunlight spilled over her tall, elegant frame, and setting her high cheekbones and slender nose in a perfect silhouette.
Fraya could not admire her for long, for the light was too bright and she had lied. None of her strength had returned, even though the clock showed she had slept a solid ten hours. Sleep never seemed to change anything anyway, and was always filled with strange dreams of the past. She’d rather do without it.
‘Ma, I look no different today than any other day,’ Issa said, looking down at her pressed sage trousers and plain white cotton shirt. ‘I always wear this for work.’
‘Ah Issy, it’s not what you wear, nice though it is. It’s what’s on the inside that counts. Though how lovely you would look in a skirt,’ Fraya jested.
‘Yes, so you keep saying,’ Issa sighed, and stepped into the room.
‘You look all grown up, a woman now for sure. Come, let us chat.’ Fraya patted the bed. Issa set her basket down and sat beside the bed-bound woman, careful not to bounce the mattress.
‘Are you feeling worse today, Ma?’
‘Oh, I’m fine, Issy,’ Fraya lied again and struggled to a more upright position. ‘I wish you wouldn’t worry. Yes, indeed you are a young woman now. Sickness or not, I won’t be here forever, and you’re old enough to understand…’ A wheezy cough clawed its way up her throat. Issa stuffed more cushions around her.
‘Issy,’ she wheezed. ‘You needn’t fuss. I can never get comfortable, no matter how many cushions there are.’
Issa stopped fussing and sat back down.
‘Tell me what, Ma? You are peculiar lately. Talking of your dreams of the past, and of far away lands with creatures and powers I can barely imagine. Anyway, look. Farmer Ged has left us another basket.’ Issa beamed and pulled back the cloth. ‘Bread, honey, walnuts, and even some of his own jam. Though I hope it’s better than the last… He hasn’t quite got the jam right, for sure. Maybe the strawberries don’t like him.’
Fraya chuckled, a cough whistled through her lungs. She wished she had at least some desire for the generous basket, but she had no appetite.
‘Aye, our neighbour’s a good man,’ Fraya said. ‘But it should be the other way around and I should be looking after him. His wife, a good woman for all that I knew of her, died far too young.’
‘You know he’d love to spend more time with you,’ Issa said, ‘and I remember how much you enjoyed his company when you were well, as did I.’
‘I just can’t bear anyone other than you seeing me like this,’ Fraya said.
Issa nodded, her smile fading. ‘You know Jessy has found herself a husband? I don’t know his name, but he’s from Bigger Kammy, and the wedding is next weekend. You know Jessy is near six years younger than me? I know you don’t like to talk of it but in all the village, I am the only one of my age to still have no husband…’
‘Ah Issy, I know how you feel, but what about the plans we made?’ Fraya said. ‘About you going to Bigger Kammy, to learn from the seers or priestesses who might be visiting there? And after that to go on to the mainland, where a real Temple of the Great Goddess resides? You have a healer’s hand after all. You know I sent a message to the seers months ago. They’ll reply in time. Their Isles of Tirry are half a world away, so we must be patient.’
Most girls got married before they were twenty, and Fraya had been no different, but though Issa was just past twenty, she couldn’t bear the thought of her settling down on Little Kammy when she could be so much more; a priestess or even a seer.
‘Do you really want to live forever on Little Kammy, never venturing beyond its borders? Getting married, having children, growing old, and never wanting more than that? Your healing ability is a great gift, as all seers know. I never dreamed a normal life would be for you.’
Issa stared into a gloomy corner of the room. ‘I understand what you say. Indeed, I would like to see the world, but everything I know and love is right here. The people here need a healer, even if it is just for animals.’
‘But even if you went, when you return everything will be right here for you, and just as you left it,’ Fraya squeezed her hand.
‘Yes, but who is there to look after you?’ Issa said.
Fraya smile
d. It was her turn to look away. Issa was right, she always was. Her poor health was holding her daughter back, it was holding everyone back. Why she did not get better she didn’t know. It made her angry and frustrated, when she had the energy for such emotions.
‘Only the goddess knows why I don’t recover. Nothing can heal this sickness, not even my gifted daughter. It seems to go right through the body and into the soul. Sometimes when I dream I hear our beloved Maioria crying out from the same illness as if she too suffers and wilts.’
‘Quiet, Ma. You know talk like that only brings you down. I’m sure all things happen in the way they’re supposed to. We must never give up hope. Remember you told me the goddess loves us all and wants us all to be well?’
Fraya’s dark thoughts were stilled momentarily. ‘Your words are like rays of hope shining in the gloom. One would think you were already a priestess from the way you sound.’ Issa blushed. ‘I’m sure the sick animals you heal understand everything you say. If I had half your faith and strength of heart, I doubt I would be sick at all.’
‘It’s the animals that teach me of the ways of Maioria and not the other way round,’ Issa said. ‘I can hear them speak sometimes, at least with their minds. They tell me where it hurts. Unlike sick people,’ she grinned.
‘I’m not one of your sick horses.’ Fraya feigned indignation.
‘Anyway, Tarry would like to go with me to the wedding…’ Issa said as if trying to catch Fraya off-guard.
‘Ahhh, does he now,’ Fraya said. So that’s what Issa really wanted to talk about.
‘Well, it doesn’t matter right now, we can talk about it later,’ Issa said, her face reddening.
Fraya smiled. ‘Well then, perhaps you can bring yourself to look like a lady and wear a dress. I’m sure Tarry would like it too.’
Issa snorted and then went wide-eyed. ‘You’ll let me go? With him?’ Fraya nodded. ‘How exciting,’ Issa squealed.
‘I honestly don’t think I could have stopped you anyway, do you? You would have snuck off for sure. Besides, you’re right. It’s high time you made your own choices and responsibilities, not that you haven’t been doing that already. I know you want to be like the others on Little Kammy, or at least not stand out so. It’s hard to be the last woman without a husband in such a small place, something I know well.
‘But still, often you’ve said you feel different to the other girls… Young women now,’ Fraya corrected with a half smile. ‘You are different to them. No one else here has a healer’s hand. As much as you would follow the ways of the people here, in the end it will not be enough for you, and you will not be satisfied.
‘For a while you can busy yourself with a husband and children and work, but there will come a time when you will stop and wonder if this is all there is, and it will be too late to look beyond the shores of Little Kammy, for your children and husband will need you.’
She looked at the flawless, oval face of her daughter, so unlike her own heart-shaped face all wrinkled with age and no doubt pale with sickness. For all her womanliness, Issa seemed so young. Nothing but innocence in those green eyes that watched her expectantly, but then she would always be her little baby that she must keep safe and secret from the world. If the seers didn’t come then she did need a husband, someone to look after her when Fraya was gone.
‘I’ve left it too long…’ Fraya sighed, and for a moment old memories crowded into her mind. For a moment she saw not her daughter’s face, but the tear-stained cheeks of a blue-robed seer. Her long dark brown hair falling from under her hood as she intoned a quiet blessing to the gurgling baby in her arms.
The young woman passed the wriggling bundle to Fraya, pain vivid in her eyes. Pain Fraya would forever wonder at. How hard would it be to give up one’s own daughter? Even if it was for the greatest good, the highest love. Fraya knew she could not have done it.
She had taken the bundle and held it close, feeling the warmth of the baby against her heavy breasts, and hoping her own motherly milk would still flow. A flood of contentment washed over her; she held a baby once more in her arms. She smiled up at the seer, accepting the responsibilities of motherhood and protectorate, but also fearing them.
“I will not fail you. I only hope that I have as much strength and love as you,” Fraya had said. Then they had embraced each other with the tiny baby squirming between them.
‘Ma?’ Issa’s voice was tinged with worry as it swirled down through the memories.
Fraya blinked and looked at Issa. Her long black hair fell straight as a waterfall to her waist. It was darker than her mother’s. Perhaps her father had had the black hair. Issa was far taller than Fraya had been at her age, as tall as her mother, the seer in the blue robes.
‘You wanted to tell me something?’ Issa seemed eager to know what she had to say, though Fraya dreaded it.
‘Remember when I told you about your father?’
‘Yes, I always ask you of him, you know that.’
Fraya closed her eyes, trying to find the right words. Her strength drained away. As she hesitated, the past began to crowd around her again, and before she lost her thoughts she spoke simply.
‘Everything that I know about your father, I told you. Everything, except one thing to make the story complete.’ Fraya stopped to swallow. ‘He was not my lover, but another’s, and I am not your mother by blood.’
The bed sunk lower under Issa’s sudden shift in posture. With a pounding heart Fraya watched her daughter struggle. Her fingers, slender and delicate as an elf’s, gripped the bed sheets, her chest rose and fell rapidly, and her face went so pale that Fraya worried she would faint.
‘Issy, it changes nothing of my love for you. Though I wasn’t your mother by blood, you are my daughter by love.’
Issa released a long held breath. ‘How can it be? Surely this is some jest, or perhaps you really are feeling worse today?’ Issa smiled, but it faded under Fraya’s gaze. ‘I don’t understand, how can this be?’
‘It doesn’t change my love for you,’ Fraya repeated, and pulled up the blankets, feeling a chill despite the summer warmth. ‘I’ve been sick for so long now, Issy, I don’t know how much longer I’ll be here. I feel my mind fading…’
‘No…’ Issa cut her off. ‘It isn’t true… You’re sick right now, but you’ll be well again.’ She stood up, the sudden movement sending a shooting pain up Fraya’s spine and making her wince.
Issa touched her hand. ‘Sorry, Ma. Your body and mind are both weary, but you will get better. I’ll go to the village. You know how good Tarry’s father is with herbs. You will be well again,’ she nodded, but Fraya could see the tears in her daughter’s eyes. ‘I’ll go right away.’ Issa spun towards the door.
‘Issy,’ she cried, but the slamming door drowned out her voice.
Issa stumbled out of the house and ran. A dull pounding began in her head and she gasped for air, feeling at once that she was suffocating and that her lungs were full. Her eyes filled with tears that sloshed around and blurred her vision as she raced across the garden, the flowers and butterflies just a blur of yellow and purple.
She headed towards the field where their horse, Haybear, grazed. The chestnut mare watched her breathless approach with ears pricked forwards, and lazily chomped on a mouthful of grass. Haybear whickered, but Issa did not stop, and carried on up the hill towards their orchard. Haybear snorted in disapproval and reached down for another mouthful.
Issa ducked under apple-laden boughs and skittered over ripened fruit—fruit which she normally would have collected this morning. She carried on up the treeless hill until she reached the top. Her legs burning, she skidded to her knees. Sobs strangled her and thoughts whirled in her mind.
It made no sense. It wasn’t true, it couldn’t be. Ma was her Ma. She was just sick and confused right now. But she didn’t seem confused. She spoke more clearly than she had in a month. Could it really be true?
“I am not your mother…” Issa repeated the words. Why di
dn’t she tell her sooner? But the voice of logic that she had fought so long to ignore whispered quietly, ‘Fraya is dying.’
She couldn’t go to town. The last thing she wanted was to face anyone, and besides, what good would Tarry’s father’s herbs do? She had already tried everything he had to offer and nothing worked.
She wiped her eyes and stared at the glistening ocean. She was not foolish and refused to let her emotions overtake her for long, no matter how strong they were. They were always strong but burned out quickly. She began to reason it through, finding solace in hard logic.
For all her heart’s wishes for it not to be so, she knew Fraya, her mother, or whatever she was supposed to call her now, was right. She was not her mother. Fraya never lied. Deep down Issa knew her love was true. But who, then, was her real mother? Did she have dark hair like her own? Fraya’s was thick and blonde, though now more grey than fair, and her eyes were grey-blue. Did her real mother have sea-green eyes too?
Who cared what she looked like anyway? She gave her away, her own daughter. Issa hugged her knees to her chest. Everything she knew about the world had been turned upside down in a matter of seconds. Her whole life was up for question, maybe everything she had been told had been a lie.
It was the beginning of summer, and all should be well in the warm sunlit world, but it was filled with confusion and unease, and something worse. Dread. Yes, that was it, dread. Her mother who was not her mother was dying, and her real mother had given her away.
“You are different… not like them…”
It was true, and now she didn’t even know her own mother like the other girls. Her logic melted away, and loneliness crowded in. She rolled over onto the grass and curled up like a child. She cried silently and pleaded for the world to go away.
Issa lay there for a long time, trying not to think, drifting somewhere between waking and sleep. The day moved on and grew warmer as the sun reached its zenith. Crows cawed in the trees and seagulls screamed in the sky. The noisy birds and the hot sun forced themselves upon her. It was midweek and likely that Farmer Ged was ploughing his fields. She fancied she could hear his toe-curling curses at the seagulls even from here. He was a down to earth man and so was his tongue.