by Kyrja
He had answered truthfully, even though he’d felt embarrassed, telling them he would be afraid to meet with Oculis, because he didn’t know him or trust him, but that someone he did know and trust did. Ishra and Easif had looked at Ramil, who Eruitt guessed must be their leader. When he nodded, the others did too. Without another word, they followed him.
“We will meet him around the next corner,” Eruitt answered Ishra’s question, then shivered as a raindrop fell on his exposed neck. Automatically looking up to judge the weather, he was surprised to see dark clouds gathering quickly. He had only glanced for a moment, but it seemed to him that the clouds had looked as though they were actually circling above them.
“Eruitt!” he heard a voice call out, then felt himself jostled by the others as they pushed him into place in the center of the three of them. He was surrounded and all three of them were standing in what he could only call “battle stance.” They may not have weapons on them, but each of them had their hands raised, knees bent, and were facing different directions as if they’d practiced doing this many times before.
Looking past Easif’s shoulder, he saw Oculis in owl form on a stone wall. He watched as he transformed into a man again, wondering if his companions would attack him or run. He was glad when they did neither, standing in place without saying a word. He couldn’t help but wonder if they learned how to keep their thoughts to themselves as part of their warrior training.
“Eruitt,” Oculis repeated, looking at him, “thank you for your help.” When he shrugged, Oculis turned his attention to the others. “And thank you for coming, as well,” he told them. “If you will look over that wall over there,” he pointed, “you’ll see three people down on the beach, below the rocks. Two women and a small girl.”
Ramil nodded at Ishra, who walked slowly to the wall, several paces away, never taking his eyes off of Oculis until he got to the wall. Even then, he only half turned, taking a quick glance. Eruitt knew this part of the city was higher than the beach, built on a gently-sloping hill that was more rock than forest. While the lower city enjoyed more immediate access to the beach and the ocean beyond, this part of the city had an amazing view for very long distances out into the sea.
“Two women and a small child,” Ishra confirmed.
“One of those women is Siri Ventus, the Goddess of Air,” Oculis told them. She has come to the city to make sure Jarles never claims his birthright. She plans to destroy the city. Look above you,” he suggested. “She has already started the storm.” Eruitt wished he could see what the goddess was doing, and if he knew who the other two people were that were with her. He could feel the wind picking up and shivered a little as more drops of rain began hitting his exposed skin.
“You want something from us,” Ramil cut him off. “What is it?”
“Aidena, has she told you she is the daughter of Siri Ventus?”
“Yes,” Easif answered this time.
“And that you are her father,” Ishra added, still near the wall.
Eruitt couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and yet the three of his companions were acting as if these impossible things were of no more concern than having a broken sandal strap. Oculis, he noticed, seemed surprised too, if his raised eyebrows were any indication.
“All right,” Oculis said slowly. “What she doesn’t know is how to use her powers yet. But she must if she is going to help keep Jarles safe.”
“He is the savior,” Ramil told him. “Amphedia will not allow him to be harmed.”
“Or he will use his own powers,” Easif put in.
“Spoken like true believers,” Oculis scoffed. “You don’t know these goddesses like I do. You have no idea the destruction they are capable of.”
“You still haven’t said what you want from us,” Ramil pointed out.
“You have to make her mad,” Oculis told them.
“What good will that do?” Eruitt blurted out. He couldn’t stay silent any longer. “Then we’ll have three goddesses or whatever all mad at each other and everyone will die. How is that going to help?”
“No,” Ramil cut him off. “She will help the savior with her powers.”
“What about everyone else?” Eruitt asked, feeling very angry himself now. “Do you feel the wind? Can you see the clouds? We’re standing here, getting wet, but pretty soon Amphedia is going to start pushing back and before you know it, the sea will be washing the whole city away!”
“I will help too,” Oculis assured him.
“Why would you help the savior?” Ishra asked.
“He is my grandson,” Oculis said simply.
“What?!” Eruitt cried. “That’s just crazy!”
“Enough!” Easif pointed at him.
“How do we make her mad?” Ramil asked. “You have something in mind.”
“Hit her,” Oculis said. “Make her fight. Taunt her about her daughter. Tell her she doesn’t deserve to be a mother.”
“That’s cruel,” Ishra said, his face clearly showing his disgust with such a tactic.
“We’re running out of time. She has to find the power inside of her to fight back. There isn’t time to do it any other way, and taunting her about her daughter will make her mad faster than anything else.”
“What about those other people on the beach with the goddess?” Eruitt wanted to know. “What is she going to do with them?”
“The woman in the blue robe is Aidena’s human mother. The girl is her daughter.”
“Aidena’s daughter?” Eruitt felt some small satisfaction knowing even Ramil had been as startled as he was.
“The girl’s name is Nieva. She thinks Aidena is her sister. And she knows how to use her powers.”
“What kind of powers?” Easif asked.
“She can throw heavy objects with her magic, she can move very quickly from one place to another, and she knows how to create storms,” Oculis told them.
“Is there anything else we need to know?” Ishra asked, rejoining them.
“Nieva has been raised to worship Siri Ventus,” Oculis replied. “And,” he paused, “she has been told Aidena is here to kill the goddess.”
“Why are you telling us this?” Eruitt asked again, shaking his head. “Don’t you think we should be getting everyone out of the city instead of helping Aidena unleash her powers? Won’t more people get killed that way?”
Oculis held out his hand, allowing the rain to drip from his palm. “It’s far too late for that.”
“You two find Aidena and tell her what we’ve learned. Make her mad,” Ramil said, nodding at Easif and Ishra. Turning to Eruitt he laid a hand on his shoulder saying, “You will show me where to find Savaar.”
“But what about him?” Eruitt protested, pointing to Oculis. Ramil’s gaze lifted to the man in question, raising one eyebrow in inquiry.
“I will stay here, to watch,” he answered with a nod towards the beach below. “In case there’s something I can do. Please hurry. Bring Aidena back here if you can.”
“We will do what we can. You have my word,” Ramil responded, holding out his arm to Oculis. He only hesitated a moment, but Eruitt knew, even as they were clasping arms, the owl-man hadn’t been expecting the gesture of agreement and shared purpose. Nor, he mused to himself, had he been expecting Ramil to clasp his shoulder in a “follow-me” signal, so lurched for half a step before falling in with the other man as they jogged down the street together.
Oculis watched them all leave, noticing none of them looked back to watch him, then transformed into an owl – it was much easier to fly down to the beach than it was to walk through the brambles and trees, with the loose rocks constantly threatening to slide out from under your feet.
Landing next to Siri Ventus, who had her arms outstretched, with her palms up, drawing energy into herself, he returned to his human form. Siri already looked pregnant with the storm she was creating.
“It is done,” he told her.
“They will bring Aidena?” she asked.
“We will need her help if we are to keep Amphedia from leveling the city,” the goddess reminded him yet again.
“Especially with Savaar joining with her, instead of fighting against her,” Aidena’s human mother, Hadia, added, her left hand absently stroking Nieva’s dark hair. It was meant to be a gesture of affection, Oculis knew, but Hadia sensed she was in danger of losing the child to the goddess. She was constantly touching Nieva, and drawing her closer.
Indeed, the only reason Hadia had accompanied Siri to the city, volunteering to act as her eyes, was to forestall Siri from taking Nieva from her altogether. Oculis had no doubt whatsoever Siri intended to take the child if Aidena proved incapable of embracing both her inherent powers and her role as the daughter of the Goddess of Air. He, of course, intended to make sure that neither Aidena nor Nieva would be going anywhere with anyone other than him.
Watching the white caps form over the expanse of the water in front of them, he wondered how much longer it would be before Amphedia responded to Siri’s ungentle knocking on her symbolic front door before she came to answer.
* * * * * * * *
“So?” Eruitt asked, turning to Ramil. They had only run for a short distance before Ramil had surprised him by turning back to the wall where they’d left Oculis. He had been certain Oculis had lied to them, but didn’t know what the lie might be.
“He is no enemy of the Goddess of Air,” Ramil stated flatly, frowning.
“So what are you going to do?” Eruitt almost felt dizzy trying to understand what was really happening., let alone why.
“Nothing has changed. Easif and Ishra will do what they can to awaken Aidena’s powers and bring her here. We will seek out Savaar. Come!” Without waiting to see if Eruitt would follow, Ramil took off down the street.
“How will you find him without me?” Eruitt called out, then ran after him, once more repeating under his breath, I will not be played for a fool. I will not be played for a fool.
Chapter Twenty-Four – Amphedia’s Tears
Kerr thought his heart would jump out of his chest when he saw Amphedia’s form rising from between the crevices in the stones near the altar. For one brief, terrifying moment, he thought she had come for him. Then – worse! – he feared she was here to set Savaar against him. He might be able to escape alive – gloriously alive! – if he only had to deal with one or the other of them, but in no way did he delude himself in thinking he would succeed in besting both of them together.
He had watched as the high priest left, smirking to himself that it would take more than a locked door to keep him in this temple if he wanted to leave. Nor was it likely that he nor Savaar were going to be able to take the Tear from him.
How good it felt to be alive again! Truly alive! He’d been living a life of servitude, with the second-, or third-best of everything. That would change, now that he was back. Unlike Savaar, he knew, Kerr was delighted to have been awakened by their mother. Feeling the smoothness of the Tear – his own Tear! – as he rubbed it between his thumb and finger, he felt more alive, more energized, than he had felt in many years. For many lifetimes, when he thought about it. Oh, he knew Amphedia would kill him again at some point; she always did. Nor did he have any doubt there was something she wanted him to do for her. Something he wouldn’t want to do. For now, though, he was going to enjoy every breath, every heartbeat. He had reached up to his head, automatically, to adjust his qatyeh, before stepping out to confront his brother, only to find that his headdress fit perfectly; it didn’t need adjusting after all. That’s when he’d seen Amphedia rise from the stones.
As he watched Amphedia offer it to Savaar, Kerr silently urged him to reach for his Tear, to take it! Take it now! How much better would it be for him, if Savaar was out of the picture altogether? On the other hand, once Savaar was gone, Amphedia might no longer need him. Maybe she wanted nothing more than to remind her eldest son that she had other sons and daughters besides him, and could raise them up against him if she wanted to. Kerr doubted he would ever know exactly what his mother wanted; she never told him her plans. Not in this lifetime nor any other.
By Sov! When he thought of all the years he’d wasted in the desert, following after Denit, and then Jarles, he just wanted to scream. He felt himself grinding his teeth in anger, then stopped. That was one habit he didn’t care to reprise; the teeth in this body were old, and would probably fall out if he started doing that now. How odd to find himself in such a body, so near the end of his life! Or, what would be a human life at any rate. He wondered if his mother would let him change it if he was going to remain living very long.
Kerr wasn’t sure whether he was relieved or disappointed when the young women came running into the temple, interrupting Amphedia’s efforts to tempt Savaar into taking the Tear. There was a small part of him, he could admit to himself, that truly understood his brother’s deep desire to simply die and never be reborn again. The terrible shock of being killed – always by someone you cared about - and the pain! Yes, Kerr understood only too well, given that one of the “gifts” their mother imposed on them was the memory of every death they’d ever suffered. And, of course, the fear of when she would do it again.
The practical part of him, though, understood there was absolutely nothing he could do about it, so he was going to make damned sure he enjoyed every moment he was alive. He only wished Amphedia hadn’t waited so long to wake him. She had risen from the sand in the middle of his tent, giving him a terrible fright, especially since he’d thought it was some trick Maw’ki was playing, intending to kill him as he slept. Jarles had been returned from whatever body of water Amphedia had dumped him into, and Aidena was with Savaar, even though he hadn’t known it at the time. He’d been deeply disturbed, not knowing what had happened to her, so was inordinately pleased to have discovered she was the daughter of Siri Ventus. That, at least, explained why she had bested him, there on the dune, before she had joined Jarles in the water. Since it had been Savaar who had saved the girl, Amphedia had obviously awakened his brother first.
He’d had a terrible time keeping the secret of his Tear to himself. Oh, how he’d wanted to crow! To shove it in the faces of all the elders. What a wickedly delightful thing that would have been – after all these years, to just tell them to bugger off! To watch them cower in fear! What a delicious thing that would have been.
It had been a mistake, though, to have flaunted the damned thing in front of Denit. He really should have known better. He’d recovered quickly enough, but her reaction had been swift – using her own powers to bring Jarles from the sea to deposit him right in front of them. She had always been so self-righteous! As if she always expected to be right and he would always be wrong. And then Giya had suddenly been there! He had convinced himself she knew nothing more than the fact that he held a Tear of Amphedia, that she couldn’t possibly know more. He’d borne her scrutiny and her silent probing, projecting an image of confidence and calm. He had felt the questions she wanted to ask heavy in the air between them, and was almost sorry she hadn’t accused him of being Amphedia’s son. He wasn’t sure, exactly, what he would have done if she had, but the thrill of potential discovery had made him almost giddy with satisfaction.
He’d taken that excitement with him into the camp, ordering the elders about as if they were children, hearing no arguments against his instructions. He’d chosen three of the warriors to accompany him to the city because they were less likely to have ties to any of the families or elders. Their kind were usually loners, in his experience, which suited his purposes perfectly. He thought to take the most-experienced of the warriors, then decided he would get fewer arguments from the younger ones, so selected three of them at random, making sure not to choose any two who were standing next to each other. He wanted no affiliations other than the ones he dictated. The three he chose would have no loyalties to anyone other than himself. Just the way he liked it.
&nb
sp; Blinking to bring himself back to what he was doing, Kerr watched as Savaar addressed the women, all of whom had settled down quickly once Amphedia had disappeared. He felt a flush of jealousy rush through him when they all crossed their arms across their chests, bowing their heads to him, calling him Lord. It wouldn’t do for him to be angry, though. It was all nothing more than a game at any rate. Sooner or later, Savaar would be dead, and he would be too. He only wished his mother would have given him some kind of instruction on what she wanted him to do. Was he supposed to join with Savaar, or kill Jarles, or just hang around until she wanted him to do something else?
He had been surprised to discover that he liked Denit much better, since he’d been awakened to who he really was. Perhaps he might even be able to get friendly with her, and who knew where that might lead? Or maybe one of the young women surrounding Savaar? But when he looked again, hoping for a better idea of who he might choose, he realized there was no point in pursuing any of them. They were all priestesses. Probably some cult dedicated to helping Savaar gain power, or some such nonsense. Then again, in this lifetime, they might not all be required to be chaste. He shook his head, amused that he actually had to think about which life he was living. Not to mention what kind of body he was in. Yes, he thought again, he would have to ask Amphedia if he could have a younger body if he was going to be around for a while.
* * * * * * * *
Batal was surprised when Savaar sat down on the top step of the altar, putting his head in his hands. Twice, he looked up at her, a question in his eyes, then dropped them again, the silence practically deafening. She knew the others were looking at her, but also knew they could - and would – wait.
“What troubles you, my Lord?” she finally asked, uncertain of the right approach to take with him. She’d spent enough time with him in recent weeks to know him better than she would have ever thought possible, but this was an extremely strange situation. Still, she was sworn to help him, and this was the first time she’d seen him looking as if he actually needed her help.