The Priestess Trials Trilogy Box Set: An Asian Myth and Legend Series

by AA Lee

  “Any idea for getting her out?”

  “Um, no. But I saw Tala touch objects and show the past to us. If you can perhaps try, maybe we’ll know how to free her. All we need is to find the torch. Wait…” Objects. Kisig looked at the staff Kenda held. It looked familiar except for the locks of hair tied on top. “Do you know where the staff came from? Your staff?”

  “From my grandma. It was passed on to her by the previous high priestess. Perhaps made by a powerful priestess in the old time.”

  “I think I saw this staff before… in Nayon. If you try to search its memory, perhaps you will know what to do.”

  “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. I can’t see memories by touching things. And this”—Kenda raised her staff—“is Daa’s staff. It’s a symbol of the high priestess. It’s not from Nayon.”

  Kisig shook his head. He could not prove that the staff was indeed from Nayon, and when he had been in spirit form, he did not observe the villages all the time. He fell into deep slumber most of the time, and the human world was nothing but a nuisance to his perceived never-ending existence. They continued in silence, Susanna walking up to the two of them from time to time. The two girls were almost of the same height, but Susanna acted more childish.

  “So when you were in town, did you learn to speak their language?” Susanna asked.

  Kenda nodded, her long, flowy hair moving like a waterfall on her back. “A little. I’m not fluent by any means, but I managed to hold simple conversations with some hand gestures.”

  “I wish I could do that too. I guess I would be rich if I could go transport goods and sell them here.”

  “You don’t need to be fluent to buy and sell. You will learn just by reading facial expressions and using hand signals. You’ll see when you go to town with the merchants.”

  Kisig walked in silence, enjoying the exchange between the two girls. They seemed to share common interests, especially escaping marriage. The girls laughed and giggled as though the horrible things that had happened within the day were lost in their memories. They held hands when crossing the river, making sure the other would not fall and be carried away by the current.

  The whole village seemed to be out to greet them when they reached Daa. “High Priestess, you must be hungry.” An old woman took Kenda’s hand. She, too, had been at The Great Fall the day before. She eyed Susanna but didn’t say a word, smiling back when Susanna smiled.

  “No, Priestess Pasi. We had dinner at Datu Hula’s house. It took a little longer to take care of The Great Fall.”

  “High Priestess Nora would be very proud of you, I’m sure.” Priestess Pasi was grinning, but her voice was low, like a whisper.

  “But we did not completely undo the curse.”

  “Ah. The wicked curse on women. The talk is traveling like wildfire. I thought it was just a rumor.”

  Kenda looked at Goni. “I think the curse is completely undone. People used to forget about the curse right after saying it, but now…”

  “We can’t leave this unconfirmed, regardless. We have to make sure, or we will be spreading it carelessly.”

  “Because Tala cursed me to forget. There are two curses. One was for me to watch as women suffer and forget why they were suffering, and the other was Tala’s curse on herself to be trapped in the torch. Now that I’m free, the curse on me was undone, but not Tala’s curse.”

  “Breakfast!” A woman in her late forties beckoned them over with quick hand gestures before Kisig could explain further.

  “Ah, yes. You should eat first,” Priestess Pasi said as she started walking. “Pilly has been preparing food since last night. We thought you would be just behind us.”

  They’d eaten only roasted potatoes on the way, and the home-cooked food made Kisig hungrier. Goni’s house was the sturdiest one Kisig had seen in the village. It looked like his house four hundred years before, with the stone floor. Even the walls were made of evenly cut wood. People talked endlessly while they were eating. Goni and Tala corrected some of the rumors that weren’t true about the curse.

  “I used my power too much in bringing down The Great Fall and then bringing it back up, so I decided to join the villagers back here instead of riding the water.” Kenda shoved food into her mouth as if she hadn’t eaten in days.

  “So,” Priestess Pasi said, “you have all the plan laid out to handle the curse... and The Great Fall—”

  “No,” Kenda said. “I know what needs to be done, but I don’t know how.”

  “I see. The thing is…” The priestess hesitated again, as though speaking in front of many people scared her. “We have to elect a new village Datu. With Romu gone, there’s no one to handle the village affairs.”

  “Doesn’t he have a son?” Kisig offered his solution like it was obvious.

  “What does that have to do with being a Datu? And no, he doesn’t have one.”

  “Ah. I can’t believe that a datu doesn’t have a son. Back in the day, the datu would take as many wives as he could to have a son, then the son would take his place as the village datu.”

  Full of rice, Priestess Pasi’s hands stopped midway to her mouth. “You talk like you’re older than me. How old are you?”

  “More than four hundred years.”

  The rice fell back to her plate. “Water must have entered your head if they found you after The Great Fall collapsed. You’re talking nonsense.”

  Kenda waved a hand like it wasn’t a big deal. Instead, she continued eating, not caring about his age. “What do the villagers want?”

  “Well, we had some talk while going home from The Great Fall.” Priestess Pasi paused again, considering her words. “And it seems like they want Goni to be the village datu.”

  “What?” Pilly’s eyes widened. “The villagers condemned him when Romu said that he stole his money. Now, they want him to rule? I trust my husband’s ability, but I don’t trust the villagers. They’d turn on him any minute.”

  “Perhaps… he can just fill in until the next election,” Priestess Pasi said in a small voice, clearly intimidated by Pilly.

  “Two years! That’s two years. Why don’t you ask someone else?”

  “Like who?” Kenda asked.

  “I don’t know. Someone might be interested in managing the village’s finances.”

  “So I’ve been listening to people since the war between us and the townspeople. It looks like no one is willing to take it.” Pasi busied herself by mixing rice and soup in a bowl. “Considering that Romu passed away like that.”

  “How did he die?” Kisig couldn’t help joining the conversation.

  “He was tied to a tree for three days. Bitten by ants. No one gave him water or food. Even his wife did not go near him, for fear of the villagers. The ants were having a feast when we passed by.”

  “Dear spirits. That’s horrible.”

  “He’s a devil!” a lean middle-aged woman exclaimed. Her hands were stained with different colors, especially her nails. “That’s just right for him. I wouldn’t have helped him even if I was here at that time, even if I am this village’s healer.”

  “He deserved it,” a man echoed. The villagers started talking about all the wrong things the previous datu had done.

  “I think we need to have a meeting. Let’s see who the villagers will propose, and then let’s vote by raising hands,” Kenda suggested.

  “There are too many villagers to count,” Goni said, breaking his silence. “It would be best if we can designate a place where they would stand if they want to vote for someone. Then let’s start counting from there.”

  Chapter 5

  Kenda

  The villagers were gathered outside Goni’s house the following morning. It turned out that Goni was the only candidate, so the only choice was whether to vote for him or not. All the villagers present agreed to have him as the village datu. Since the position was only temporary, the celebration was simple. The villagers were struggling with their harvests, so the
y were thankful for a free meal at Goni’s house even though it was just rice, sweet potatoes, and chicken soup.

  “I have to go,” Sim whispered to Kenda. “A child has been throwing up since this morning and can’t eat.” Clearly, the healer didn’t want to ruin the celebration by talking about unpleasant things.

  “I hope everything’s going to be fine,” Kenda whispered back.

  “I hope so. I think it’s just a fever from the cold. The child went to The Great Fall with her mother and went home without covering her head.”

  Kenda smiled to each villager who met her eyes, but deep inside, the curse troubled her. No one had any ideas about how to help her, and Kisig, instead of helping her, added to the pressure.

  “I need to take a walk, Uncle—I mean, Datu Goni,” she said. “I need to think.” Although Datu Goni was her uncle, addressing him by his title was crucial to show respect. She needed to address him properly in private and in front of the villagers to form a habit of calling him the datu. Her grandmother, High Priestess Nora, had forced her to call her by her title, but Kenda always called her Grandma privately and in front of family despite countless punishments. Now that Kenda was the high priestess, she needed to set an example. “All these things are giving me a headache, and I don’t know what to do.”

  “Perhaps Lucy can help you.” Datu Goni’s hands were in his pockets, fiddling, probably with one of his bottles. “Maybe not with magic, but she brought you relief when you lost your grandma.”

  “Lucy! Oh, dear spirits. How could I forget Lucy?”

  “Who’s Lucy? That’s a strange name,” Kisig butted in.

  Kenda ran toward the prison, hoping the cat had been fed by the villagers. Lucy had been weak when she left her two days ago, but her wound had started to heal. Footsteps followed her.

  “What are you doing?” she asked Kisig.

  “Following you.”

  “I can see that. But why?”

  “Freeing Tala is the most important thing to do right now. I want to remind you of that.”

  “Oh, shut up. I already know that.” She continued jogging, not caring that Kisig was still following her.

  The prison guards bowed to Kenda as she reached the gate.

  “I will escort you, High Priestess,” the shorter guard offered, looking at the staff in her hand.

  “I’m just here to get the cat.”

  “I will protect her,” Kisig said.

  Kenda rolled her eyes.

  “Oh, the white one,” said the guard. “It never left the cell, so we just gave it fish. Jinja’s still in his cell, High Priestess. Be careful.”

  “I can handle myself. No worries.”

  Jinja, Datu Hula’s son, had been in prison for months because he’d led a war behind his father’s back. A furry white ball ran toward her. She squatted and let Lucy jump into her arms.

 

  “Ungrateful cat, do you think he’s not going to kill you?” she said in her own voice, not caring what Kisig thought. “You did a good job in making sure he stayed in his cell, though.”

 

  “Um.” She turned to Kisig and couldn’t think of a proper way to describe him to the cat. “He’s someone who has nowhere else to go, so he’s staying in the village.”

  “Is she a special cat who can talk to people?” Kisig moved closer and stared at the cat, who was now comfortable in Kenda’s arms.

  “She can only talk to me.”

  “Can I hold her?”

  Lucy held tightly onto Kenda’s arms.

  “Ouch! Calm down, Lucy,” she said.

 

  “Okay, okay. No need to burrow your claws into my skin.”

  “Fine, I’m not going to hold you if you don’t like it.” Kisig held his hands up, and the cat relaxed again.

  “Let’s go back to the village,” Kenda suggested.

  Lucy inquired.

  Kenda told the story again, including the details of the curse. “And now, I have to free the high priestess from a torch we don’t know where, and I don’t know how.”

 

  “I destroyed The Great Fall, where he was imprisoned. Wait, are you suggesting that I do the same? I already thought about that, but I can’t destroy the torch. We don’t know if I could bring it back.”

  “Maybe the cat is right!” Kisig said. “Look, once the torch is gone, maybe Tala will have no choice but to be out.”

  “And what if we’re wrong? We can’t undo it.” Kenda caressed Lucy’s soft fur.

  The animal moved its head toward her hand and purred in pleasure. They all debated continuously until they reached the village. Lucy, who didn’t seem upset that Kenda hadn’t returned soon enough, jumped down from her arms and ran toward Boboy, who was writing on the dirt with a stick. The boy, Datu Goni’s son, seemed to have grown affectionate toward the cat but still didn’t know Lucy could talk to Kenda.

  Kenda approached the priestesses waiting outside Datu Goni’s house with furrowed brows. “What’s wrong, Priestess Pasi?”

  “The villagers are falling ill… First, the children, and now… the adults.”

  “But I was here just moments ago. I only heard about a child throwing up.”

  “Apparently, more were sick from this morning. That child Sim visited was the worst. She couldn’t heal her…” Priestess Pasi hesitated again, forcing Kenda to be patient as the woman got all her words out. “The villagers are starting to think that the datu and your appointments are not favored by the spirits.”

  “That’s ridiculous. The spirits have no say in this matter. Have you seen the child?”

  “No… I was waiting for you.”

  “You should’ve checked first.” Kenda jogged to urge Priestess Pasi to hurry. When her grandmother was the high priestess, Kenda had been happy that Priestess Pasi did not give her grandmother a hard time by always following orders, but now, her lack of ability to decide on her own irritated Kenda. “This is exactly Aunt Pilly’s fear. The villagers’ beliefs are like the wind, which could change direction any minute.”

  “But perhaps if you can cure them, you will be in their favor again,” Priestess Pasi said between heavy breaths.

  “I will help, but I’m not responsible for their happiness.”

  Chapter 6

  Kisig

  Nenita, a girl about six years old, was as pale as the white shirt Sim was wearing. The hut reeked of vomit, almost making Kisig puke, even though none was visible. Emelda, Nenita’s mother, called the girl’s name again and again, as if that were keeping the girl alive. The girl’s eyes were closed, her cheeks wet with tears. She was not moving, and her chest rose and fell so slightly that at first, Kisig thought she wasn’t breathing at all.

  “High Priestess, we forgot the priestess’s hat. I’m going to get it real quick.” Priestess Pasi headed to the door.

  “No. I don’t need it. Please move back,” Kenda ordered.

  The one-room hut was so small that it accommodated only about ten people. A crowd of villagers outside looked through the open door, perhaps curious how the new high priestess would heal. Kenda sat cross-legged on the floor, facing the girl, and closed her eyes. She just sat still for such an agonizingly long time that Kisig’s legs itched to move.

  “What is she doing?” he asked Priestess Pasi.

  “She’s in the spirit world. Probably talking to the souls.”

  Kisig had communicated with his mother with the help of the priestesses before. He failed on his first try and lost consciousness on the second. Some priestesses sang songs before they could enter the spirit world, and some just closed their eyes in deep concentration. Sweat on their foreheads was normal. Kenda, on the other hand, looked as though she was asleep.

  “Aren’t you going to he
lp her?”

  “If she asks for help, we will.”

  Nenita let out a loud gasp that made Emelda hold her hand more tightly. Kisig’s eyes flicked between the child and Kenda, whose brows furrowed as her fists clenched. She opened her eyes so suddenly that Kisig’s skin crawled.

  “Mama,” Nenita called, crying.

  “I’m here,” Emelda answered, tears flowing from her eyes. “Thank the spirits. My baby girl.”

  To everyone’s surprise, the girl sat up. Sighs of relief were heard, and people began to talk.

  “High Priestess—" Emelda left her daughter’s side, replaced by a man Kisig assumed to be the father—“I don’t know how to thank you, but I will surely do whatever it takes. Thank you for saving her. I thought… I thought…” The woman shook her head, unable to say what everyone knew she meant. Kenda bowed in response.

  “But what was wrong? Why did she get sick so suddenly? And she got worse so fast. I haven’t seen anyone get sick and worsen to the point of…”

  Dying. Kisig completed Emelda’s sentence in his head.

  “An evil soul returned for revenge.” Each of Kenda’s words dropped like thunder. Droplets of sweat stood out on her forehead.

  “We can have an offering. Maybe it would calm the soul’s hate,” Priestess Pasi recommended.

  “This one does not want offerings. He wants war.”

  “Who?” Pasi’s quavering voice sent a chill down Kisig’s spine.

  “Romu.”

  “No!” Priestess Pasi’s shrill voice wasn’t alone.

  A woman just outside the door fell to her knees. Another hugged her daughter tightly. Kisig could feel terror in the air.

  “But… but Nenita has nothing to do with him! Why? Why harm my daughter?” The woman sank to her knees as if asking forgiveness.

  “He was an evil man even when he was alive. He’s still evil after his death. We don’t know what he’s thinking, but we already know he doesn’t care who suffers.”

  “So what are we going to do?” Emelda moved to her daughter’s side again, her relief completely forgotten.