Night Goddess (The Goddess Prophecies Book 1)

by Araya Evermore

  ‘If you do not fear death, then come to me. I was there in the beginning,’ the voice echoed. Her heart pounded in her chest and the hairs on the back of her neck rose as she searched the ocean for a white shape.

  ‘What do you mean? It is you who fear me, why else would you hide?’ she taunted, but her voice quivered.

  ‘I was there when you jumped from the cliff to escape his Dromoorai. Always you denied death, always you run, until now. Now you do not run but linger. I am hunted as are you,’ he whispered.

  Her heart skipped a beat. He was there in the beginning?

  ‘How?’ she said.

  ‘In the storm, his consciousness moves. He knows you are here.’

  She looked to the sky, and in the distance saw muddy clouds massing. Clouds that reminded her of those on Little Kammy. She swallowed. There was a dark force in that storm, she felt it again now, even from here, a horrible unnatural power. Thunder rumbled.

  ‘Yes… He hunts us both. He’s moving closer as each hour passes,’ Keteth said, reading her thoughts.

  Thunder rolled above and the ground shuddered under her feet. The clouds were turning almost black as they crowded together. The last time she had seen storm clouds amass and move, Dread Dragons had come out of them.

  ‘Who hunts you?’ she said.

  Lightning snaked above, making her jump. Keteth’s hold upon her vanished. She could no longer feel his presence. Instead, she felt that darker essence growing. What was out there? Even Keteth fled from it. She feared that awful force more than the beast in the ocean.

  Lightning torched the sky as thunder clapped, and she screamed. She fled from the shore into the trees and kept going, ignoring the wraiths that flowed around her. The sky had turned so dark it was almost night. The wind howled through the trees, and their limbs swayed like ghouls themselves. She slowed and cowered behind a tree. The storm was looking for her. Lightning struck close, driving her from her hiding place.

  She screamed and ran. She did not stop until she reached the top of the cliffs. The dark clouds were behind her now, searching where she had been hiding. She crawled through bushes to the cliff’s edge and dared to look down. It was a long drop to where waves crashed over boulders. The rocks beckoned her towards them, and the sky pressed down upon her, pushing her towards the edge. If she fell, she could end it all. She dragged herself back.

  ‘I will not do it. Not again.’ Her breath came fast, and cold sweat beaded her face. Thunder rumbled close. The storm was on the move. She heaved herself up and fled along the path.

  Chapter 15

  A Feathered Thief

  ASAPH bolted upright and tore off his sweat-soaked nightshirt whilst gasping for breath. The nightmare of a white monster with a hundred tentacles flailing towards him slowly receded and he wiped his clammy chest. Coronos shifted and muttered, then lay motionless and breathing steadily. It was pitch black outside the window, he could only have been asleep a few hours. By the time he had put on a dry nightshirt and lain back down his heart no longer pounded.

  For the next hour, he tried to get back to sleep, but it would not come. Tomorrow was their usual weekly goblin scouting trek and he needed his rest. Apart from scouting for goblins, every day passed in the same manner, so similar that he sometimes could not tell the difference between one day and the next. He got up, ate breakfast, then chopped wood before skirting the village boundaries to check fencing for damage. He ate lunch, then spent the afternoon fixing and securing ropes and bridges. Ate dinner, practised with his sword and then went to bed.

  Since the blue moon had risen he felt the world was changing without him, and the boredom grew along with the frustration. He was trapped here in this beautiful boring land of calm turquoise oceans and great trees weighed down with fruit, tortured by dreams of a girl he longed for and terrorised by a monster in the sea.

  He swung his legs out of bed with an exasperated sigh, pulled on his boots and quietly left his bed and sleeping father. There was no blue moon tonight or any moon as he followed the well-worn path down to the sea. Only the bright stars above lit the way. It wasn’t long before he came to a stop upon a long stretch of white sand and gently lapping waves. There was no wind, not even the near constant sea breeze was here tonight, and all about him was still, calm and silent.

  ‘I have to find a way back to the Old World, but how?’ he asked the ocean, wishing it would somehow answer. He clenched his fist, his mother’s ring halfway up his finger dug into his hand.

  ‘I will avenge you, or die trying,’ he vowed under his breath, then sighed. It was one thing to know the past, but quite another to try to change it. I cannot simply do nothing, in accepting her death I in some way condone it, and that I’ll never do.

  He sat down upon the sand. Frustration with his life kept him awake, but the lack of sleep drained him. He sat there for a time listening to the sound of the waves and must have fallen asleep because he awoke on his back under a sky tinged with orange. The ring glowed red as the rising sun spilled warm light over everything. He took it off his finger and tossed it high into the air. He laughed as it flashed like a gem in the sunlight and tumbled back into his palm.

  He threw it again and caught it easily. On the third throw he reached to catch it, but instead of hitting his palm a big ball of black feathers came out of nowhere, deftly caught the ring in its thick beak, and swooped off low along the water’s edge.

  ‘Hey,’ he cried, and jumped up and tore after the raven. He was a fast runner, but the raven’s wings were faster and he was soon dropping behind.

  ‘Stupid bird, stupid me. Come back, thief.’ he shouted. He was not about to lose his mother’s cherished ring to some scraggly bird, but try as he might he could not catch up.

  It was the fury that made it happen. As he cursed and shouted the dragon within roused from sleep. There came a flash of blinding gold, the world seemed to implode and then explode. In a heartbeat, two eyes shining like sapphires engulfed him and a surge of ancient, feral power flooded him awash in ecstasy. His arms and legs bulged, thick muscles bunched and flexed, razor sharp claws slipped forwards. Upon his back, two more powerful limbs sprouted and seemed to grow forever.

  Asaph stretched, spread his giant wings and instinctively drove them downwards, lifting his great bulk easily into the air. In the next instance he was no longer running on two legs, but soaring above the jungle on massive golden wings after the tiny black bird. He was no longer human, but dragon and too furious to care who might see.

  He gained upon the raven and soon it was below him. He reached to grab it in a giant claw, but it dipped and veered to the right, disappearing into the thick canopy. He dropped lower but dared not follow for risk of tearing his wings upon the trees. He stalled and searched only to see the raven emerge above the trees further ahead, and the chase was on again.

  He followed the raven until it disappeared into the trees and did not emerge. Searching above, he tried to catch sight of black wings in the dark forest. He saw it flicker through a clearing. With a smoky snort, he lunged down keeping his wings close as he crashed through the trees. Branches, leaves and everything else whirled around him in a maelstrom. He landed quite by surprise in his human form, leaves and branches crashing down around him.

  ‘Hmmmph. Flawless landing,’ he said, completely impressed with his first flight and first landing as he brushed twigs off his head and shirt.

  He looked around, but the raven was gone. He was alone in the forest and it was silent, which was odd, for though the sun had risen there were no animals or birds stirring. The quietness was unnerving.

  ‘I don’t know this place,’ he breathed.

  Even though he had tracked these forests for hundreds of miles with the Kuapoh all of his life, he had never been here before. The trees looked ancient and he marvelled at the massive trunks of the oaks clustering around him. They dwarfed him, and even had he still been in dragon form they would have been huge. Thick roots rose up through the mossy ground and he had
the feeling that no human feet had ever disturbed them.

  A garbled caw came from somewhere up ahead, cutting through the silence and making him jump. Trees forgotten, he darted after the raven, jumping nimbly over roots.

  ‘Come here you stupid bird,’ he shouted. His words sounded odd in the silence, all muffled and out of place, and for a moment he felt as if the trees reproached him. He carried on, albeit a little more quietly.

  The raven was ahead, perched on a low branch, the silver ring shining in its beak. But just as he neared the bird flew off. He swore and followed it, deciding it was time to up the stakes. He stooped to pick up a fist-sized rock as he ran. Again the raven landed on a branch just ahead of him. He scowled at it, but slowed to a crouching walk, the rock ready in his hand. Carefully he aimed.

  ‘Thief,’ he cried and hurled the rock, but as he did so his foot caught a root. He stumbled and fell, the rock flying harmlessly off course as he tumbled down the bank and landed with a thump. His head spun as he gasped for the air that was knocked out of his lungs. The rock he had thrown tumbled after him and before he could move to avoid it, it knocked him on the head with a resounding thwack. The only thing he heard as his head spun was a satisfied, beak-filled, caw.

  Asaph lay there blinking for a good while, then rubbed his sore head. The world stopped spinning and when it did the Recollection opened in his mind. He sat up and stared at the majestic dragon door before him, just as it had been before. The raven flew to it and landed on top. Still holding the ring, it tapped its thick beak on the door.

  ‘Hey, don’t do that,’ Asaph stood up. He wasn’t quite sure why he didn’t want the raven to tap on the door. Perhaps its beak would damage it, or perhaps something awful would come through it. Carefully he laid a hand on the dragon’s snout. As soon as he did the door opened without so much as a creak. His jaw dropped. Through the open door were blue coloured sand dunes stretching out under a night sky. A hot wind blew from within. The raven cawed again and flew inside.

  ‘No, wait.’ He stepped forwards after it and stopped. Should he follow it? He rubbed his stubble, then ran inside.

  He stood on endless dunes under a starlit sky, the hot wind hugging him. Ahead, about ten paces away, stood three great stones plunging out of the sand, two upright and one straddling them. They were beautiful, shimmering with silver and gold flecks. Where on earth was he and what was this strange place? He went to inspect the shining stones.

  He reached to touch the smooth surface, but as he did so a female figure emerged from between them. He jumped back, hand reaching for his sword that he’d left at home, but feelings of love and peace emanated from the figure, spreading a wave of calm over him. He regarded her. She was tall and slender and shrouded in a dark cloak, face lost inside a hood. She raised a pale hand and pointed to the sand in front of her. At her bidding, the grains lifted into the air and swirled in tiny eddies that began to flash and sparkle.

  Asaph stared open-mouthed as images formed in the glimmering eddies. A small wooden boat took shape and in it was an old man cloaked in grey, sleeping. A raven sat at the prow and in its beak held a silver ring. Asaph looked back at the cloaked woman and frowned, wondering what was happening.

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  She did not reply but instead wrote in the air with one long luminous finger. Fire burned where she touched and the word ‘MURLONIUS’ was written in flames. He whispered the name to himself.

  ‘What does it mean?’ he asked, frowning in confusion.

  Remaining silent she beckoned to him. Asaph walked towards her in hesitant steps, though he could sense no threat or see a weapon, she knew how to use magic and seemed very powerful. He tentatively took her outstretched hand and gasped from the coolness and purity of her touch, it felt as if he held the purest light in his grasp.

  There came a great gust of wind that threatened to tear his clothes off. The sand, dark blue in the night, swirled around them in ribbons. He shielded his eyes with his other arm, barely able to make out the dark figure beside him, but then a protective ball of unseen energy enclosed them, keeping the sand away.

  He did not feel movement, but all of a sudden the wind dropped and the sand disappeared along with the desert, and he found himself stood before another dragon door. He gawped at the door, then shot a hand up to shield his eyes again when it flared into a blinding white light. Either the door had opened or turned into the white light and they were passing through it. The light went.

  He yelped and grasped her arm, for in a blink they were flying bodily, faster than a dragon, over snow-capped mountains he did not recognise. But the cloaked woman held his hand firmly, reassuring him that he would not fall. Beneath their feet sped green pastures and forests, twinkling lakes and rivers that emptied into an ocean gleaming under not one, but two yellow suns.

  Clouds clustered and formed out of nowhere and soon became grey and heavy with rain, blotting out the suns. The storm came swiftly. Stinging rain drenched them and thunder deafened, but they did not falter as they sped through the lightning.

  He had no time to think about what was happening, so fast were things unfolding. It was as if he were in a crazy but very real dream, and everything was happening three times faster than normal. He chanced a squinting glance at the robed figure beside him, but her face was still hidden.

  A red-bricked castle loomed ahead, bigger than any building he had ever seen, even through the Recollection, and his jaw dropped when he saw dragons circling around its turrets. He wanted to go to them, but instead she plunged them towards two great doors, guarded by two more dragons that stood still as statues. He gawped at them as they flashed passed into the fortress through the massive doorway, but had no time to speak a greeting. They did not even flinch, and he wondered if their passing either went unnoticed, or was accepted and unacknowledged.

  Hallways, high and wide enough for dragons to pass side by side, stretched out in all directions, creating a maze of red brick tunnels and patterned floors that he was sure he would never in a lifetime find a way out of. Dotted here and there along the hallways were ornately carved arches leading into huge rooms through which other doors led. Some arches led out onto platforms like the one they had entered upon, only smaller.

  All of these things he only had time to glimpse as they sped through the air at a dizzying speed. Abruptly they stopped, and he found himself swaying on his feet before a large oak door. He steadied himself against the wall and looked around, but the cloaked woman was gone. He turned back to the door and as he did so it swung silently open of its own accord. Feeling compelled he stepped through, the door closed softly behind him.

  Chapter 16

  Trial By Fire

  IT was dark at first, but as his eyes adjusted the room slowly took form. It was octagonal in shape and each wall had a tall window made of glass. The glass was fashioned into a myriad of plants and flowers in all shades of blue, purple and green. Blue stone pillars supported the high arched ceiling, thick candles stood in each corner, the flames reflecting off the glass and casting the room in a low almost otherworldly light. The room was cool and he could faintly smell the freshness of the ocean.

  In the centre of the room stood a high round altar made of the same red stone from which the fortress was constructed. His eyes were drawn to the blue flame that burned above it. He had never seen fire that colour before and it was large, the size of his fist. He thought it was made of glass until it flickered briefly and then was still again. There was no fuel it used to burn but was alight all by itself. A cleansing purity emanated from it that spread a feeling of calm. He was so entranced by the flame that he did not at first hear the woman speak his name.

  Asaph came to his senses and stared at her. She stood as motionless as the flame across from which she stood. Her pale complexion and long silvery clothes blended her into the surreal light of the room, and like the flame, he wondered if she too were real.

  Her facial features stood out sharply, serving to add to
her unearthly look. She was beautiful in an unusual way for she was not completely human. Tall, slender, with long graceful limbs, her skin was pale pearlescent pink, high cheekbones set in an oval face, made more so by her head that was slightly longer than a human’s. Her large eyes were steeply slanted and gleamed luminous violet. Her ears were long and thin, pointing upwards like an elf’s only longer and thinner. Her long straight hair was nearly white with the faintest hint of blue and held back in a silver circlet high upon her head, accentuating her aquiline features.

  Recognition stirred in his dragon memory, he knew her ethnicity through his own ancestors. An Ancient. She made the beautiful elves he had glimpsed in the Recollection look positively awkward and ugly by comparison. A warm smile formed on her small pale lips, and Asaph found himself bowing.

  ‘I’m Asaph, er, from Drax. Though I’ve lived my whole life in the Uncharted Lands, as it’s called in the Old World,’ he stumbled over the words, feeling confused about his origins. He straightened and felt foolish for waffling, surely he was not here to talk about where he lived. She inclined her head politely in greeting.

  ‘I am Yisufalni, High Priestess of the Usteralax peoples, daughter of King Fulucia,’ her voice rang out around him, rich and full. ‘I am the last of my people to still walk Maioria, those you call the Ancients, though I remain hidden to the world and deliberately so.’

  The name “Usteralax” echoed within Asaph’s dragon memory, though no images came to mind. As if answering his thoughts she added, ‘We were one of the last peoples to leave Maioria in search of another world. Tired of the wars that plagued the land, fearful of the Immortal Lord’s growing might, and seeing our terrible destiny written in the stars, we tried to leave.