A Warrior's Quest

by Calle J. Brookes

  “I want my Daddy!” Cerridwen clung.

  “I know. I kind of want him myself.” Where were they? It had been a passage key. She was certain of that. But who had opened it, and in which of the seventeen realms were they? She tried to orient herself, though the dark made that impossible. There were no sounds, either; wherever they were was empty and hollow. Dead. A cave? Some sort of basement?

  No. They were not in a building. The temperature around them was neither hot nor cold. The smells were completely void of anything recognizable.

  No sound, no temperature, no smells, no light. They were in a complete void until she found some answers. Why? Had the passage key been aimed at her? Cerridwen? Someone else? Had she somehow made something go wrong with someone else’s entry to the demon world?

  “Auri? Can we turn the light on now? I don’t like the dark.”

  “Baby, I don’t know if there is a light. But we’re ok.” Were they? In this darkness, she had no way of knowing. She could try to feel her way around, but for all she knew—she could be walking them right off a cliff. Or something equally as dangerous. Deadly.

  She took the scarf from around her waist. “Baby, I’m going to put something around your wrist, ok? So we can find each other. I need to put you down, so I can explore some. And I don’t want us to get separated.” She set the little girl on the floor or ground or whatever it was, and slipped the loop around the tiny wrist. She tied the other around her own non-sword arm.

  “Oh, that will not be necessary, my dearest.”

  Aureliana refrained from screaming. Barely. She scooped Cerridwen back into her arms. “Who’s there? Who are you?”

  “Don’t you mean where are you?” The voice laughed, the sound far more chilling than even the Beansidhe’s death cry.

  Cerridwen was crying, clinging to Aureliana’s neck.

  And then she just wasn’t.

  The little girl was just gone, and Aureliana was in a dim room. A plain room, no windows or doors anywhere. How did she get in there? Where was Cerridwen?

  And why was her sword in her hand, when she’d left it in her room in Rathan’s castle?

  “Let me out of here! Hey! Hey! Where’s Cerridwen?”

  “The child is as safe as one can be in any world. For the moment.” The voice laughed again. Was it male, female? A sexless being? Aureliana couldn’t tell. It was hollow, tinny, and sounded like a thousand voices, though she knew it to be one. Maybe.

  “Where is she? She’s just a baby!”

  “Hush. You will be with her when you are with her. And not a moment before.”

  “And when will that be?”

  “Tell us, Aureliana Marisan Elestria Adrastos, where will you look for this child who is not of your own blood?”

  Hundreds of small doors, no bigger than Aureliana’s palms snapped onto the empty walls.

  She didn’t stop to think, just grabbed the first tiny knob. She pulled it off its tiny hinges and looked through the opening.

  She almost screamed when she found herself looking on a scene she knew intimately. When she found herself in the scene, with the wall of doors behind her.

  It was the day Bronwen’s mother died. Her friend lay on the bed, her Rajni at her side. Alita was pale and weak, and everyone in the room knew she was going to be one they lost. There was Adelais, sick with worry for her twin. Aureliana had forgotten how much Bronwen resembled her aunt. Bronwen’s brothers were there, as well. Kindara was at the foot of the bed, trying to save Alita. Aureliana saw herself, standing back from the bed, praying fervently to the goddess to at least spare the babe. Because she knew that’s what Alita would ask for. If she was able.

  When it was over, Thas, Alita’s Rajni, had thrust his day old daughter into Aureliana’s hands, and begged her to always protect the girl. And then two days later, he was gone. Never heard or seen again.

  Aureliana spun around and grabbed the largest door. Found herself back on the other side of the wall. “What is this? Who are you?”

  “Tell us, Aureliana Marisan Elestria Adrastos, where will you look for this child who is not of your blood?”

  The room tilted, and Aureliana was thrown against the wall. She bit off a scream. They would not know that they’d terrified her.

  “Tell us, Aureliana Marisan Elestria Adrastos, where will you look for this child who is not of your blood?”

  Was Cerridwen behind one of these doors? Dear goddess, how was she to get in to the girl? She grabbed another knob.

  This time it was thirty years ago, and it was in Kindara’s healing room. Aureliana saw herself once again. She was holding Kindara as tightly as she dared, while the other woman screamed out her grief. Her loss. Iavius and her babe. Gone because of Leo Taniss. Aureliana once again felt the helplessness and anger that had filled her those days. The her in the tiny room was rocking her best friend, whispering meaningless words of comfort. Cormac was there, Kindara’s only living brother, his own grief and fear clear on his face. The remembered pain sickened her. “What strange torment is this?”

  More doors. More memories of her four hundred plus years. None of them good.

  A tiny row of doors near the floor held more recent events. There she was clutching her sister-in-law eight months or so ago when the Beansidhe had first appeared. Mallory looked so frightened, though she’d wanted everyone to think she was brave. Aodhan was holding them both now, so warm, strong, and protective. Goddess, how she loved her brother. He was the only true sibling she had—their parents had birthed fifteen other males, but she had seen them only a handful of times each century.

  They would not grieve if she were to die today. That was the harsh truth. They wouldn’t—but Aodhan and Mallory would.

  Then the day Kindara and her daughter were kidnapped, the fear for them both that had filled her.

  Renakletos was next, the echo of the wound in her side sending her nearly prostrate. She had almost died that day—at the hands of her Rajni. Something unheard of in her Kind. The him in the room memory was carrying her, now. So strong, arrogant. Fearsome. But the hands he used to hold her had been so gentle. Why did she always remember that? Even when he’d held her down beneath Kindara’s needle, he had been gentle.

  “Tell us, Aureliana Marisan Elestria Adrastos, where will you look for this child who is not of your blood?” The words were louder now, but she couldn’t tell if they were only in her head, or were real. Why?

  Her head was breaking apart. “Everywhere!” She would search everywhere for Renakletos’ child. How could she not? “I love her!”

  Darkness again. Only this time, it was too much. Aureliana went under with it.

  ***

  When next she woke, she was in an arena. Surrounded again by Lupoiux. Was this another memory? She thought it was. It didn’t feel real. The Redd Gothan pack had taken her and Jierra five months ago, and had used her as sport. In a crude forest ring just like this. She had her sword, just like she had then. “Tell us, Aureliana Marisan Elestria Adrastos, who will you fight to protect this child not of your blood?”

  The first wolf sprang at her. Aureliana fought him, ignoring the bruises and strained muscles she already possessed. She stabbed the wolf through the heart and instead of falling to the ground as either animal or man as was the Lupoiux way, he shattered into dust.

  And then it was the battle from four days ago. Shojo demons, red and pink with their stolen souls, storming the castle, like something from a bad fairy tale. She’d been caught unawares, the shouts from the courtyard bringing her running. Cerridwen was there, at play with that puppy of hers. She’d scooped the girl up and practically tossed her toward her nurse.

  And then Aureliana had fought, until she was on the ground beneath half a dozen of the small bastard demons. They were only four feet high, but they’d fought hard. And then Ren was there, battling them away from her, until the shojo were dead. Along with three of Ren’s men, who had died surrounding her. Trying to protect her.

  Would she ever fo
rget that? The courtyard burst into millions of pieces, and Aureliana found herself in the dark void again.

  “Tell us, Aureliana Marisan Elestria Adrastos, who will you fight to protect this child not of your blood?”

  How else could she answer? Cerridwen was defenseless, a babe. “Everyone!”

  The air sucked out of the void, leaving Aureliana gasping. Next she was a wraith, ethereal. Surrounded by those she loved. But…not. They were looking right through her, could reach out and touch her—but they did not see her.

  Kindara, Aodhan and Mallory, Bronwen, Jierra, the twins, Cerridwen, Rathan…Renakletos. She was standing next to him, yet he did not see her. How could he not see her? They were grieving. For her. She knew it was for her. She did not know how she knew, but she did. What had happened to her?

  “Is this real? Is Cerridwen home with her father?” Was the girl safe? A quickening of her already erratic heart had her drawing in a breath. Please, dear goddess, let Cerridwen be safe…

  “Tell us, Marisan Elestria Adrastos, what will you sacrifice to rescue this child not of your blood?”

  The Beansidhe was there. Her scream nearly deafened Aureliana, but she braced her body. The Beansidhe didn’t need to use physical attacks to steal souls. Merely breathing in her prey’s breath was enough to kill them.

  “Tell us, Aureliana Marisan Elestria Adrastos, what will you sacrifice to rescue this child not of your blood?”

  Blood. Blood. Blood, the voice emphasized blood.

  Blood sustained her people. Sustained her. What did it mean?

  She grabbed the sword she’d carried for hundreds of years. It would be useless against a Beansidhe. But it was the only protection she had.

  Blood. There was demon blood in her veins now, courtesy of her Rajni and his brother. Both had fed her when she had been injured, this time and the last. Had permanently altered that most important part of her physiology. And demons were deities in her world’s terminology. Could a Beansidhe possess the soul of deities or demons?

  Aureliana was hoping they could not.

  She dragged her hand along the blade’s edge, slicing deeply. Ignoring the burn and pain, she placed her bloodied hand to her heart as she stared directly at the Beansidhe. This time when the question came, she was ready.

  “Tell us, Aureliana Marisan Elestria Adrastos, what will you sacrifice to rescue this child not of your blood?”

  “Everything!” She flung the bloody sword through the center of the Beansidhe. “All that I am!”

  The Beansidhe burst with a sound so deafening the room surrounding them shook.

  Aureliana was knocked to her knees by the force of the explosion. Her head struck the ground, hard enough to knock her out once again.

  ***

  The next time she woke, she was resting in a bed, warm blankets pulled up to her shoulders and her hand wrapped with a silk bandage. Fine silk, at that.

  Cerridwen sat in a chair at Aureliana’s side, holding her uninjured hand. When she saw Aureliana was awake she squealed and climbed up on the bed. “Auri, Auri, I thought you were deaded!”

  “Oh, baby.” Aureliana hugged her, overwhelmed. “Are you ok? Did anyone hurt you?”

  “No. But I was scared. At first. Then Fana said everything would be all right.”

  “Who is Fana?”

  “I am.” A voice came from behind Cerridwen, and Aureliana pulled the child over her and against the wall. She blocked Cerridwen’s body with her own.

  An old woman was holding out Aureliana’s sword. “I’ve cleaned the blade. Metals tend to rust quickly here.”

  “Where exactly is here?” Aureliana took the weapon, feeling its comforting weight.

  “In your words it would be everywhere, nowhere, possibly somewhere in between. You’ll learn of this place eventually, I expect.”

  Cryptic. And in the same voice that had asked such questions earlier. Though this time the words did not echo so horrifically. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

  “Questioning. Yes.”

  “Why?” They were in a cottage of some sort. A fireplace was in use in one corner, the woman stood in front of a crude wooden table. The bed was in the center of the one room space. The furnishings were a blend of modern...and medieval. Were they still in Renakletos’ world? It was certainly furnished in the same manner.

  “I had my reasons. How is your head?”

  “It’s been better.” Aureliana was staring at the old woman, but nothing about her was distinguishable. It was as if she was cloaked somehow. Not even her eyes could be described—or remembered. More likely, it was that Aureliana could see her but not ever describe. “What are you? Deity? Demon?”

  “Something else. Something older, though I shan’t reveal exactly how old.”

  “Why were we brought here?” Cerridwen was happily playing with Aureliana’s hair, like she had so many times before. So nothing had happened to the child, nothing to frighten her or crush her spirit. That, at least, was reassuring. “And why all of...that?”

  “There are some tasks, Aureliana of the Adrastos, that even a good person cannot handle appropriately. You had to be tested.”

  “For what?”

  “A guardianship so important that worlds rest upon it.”

  “Of what? Does this have something to do with the wars that Rathan, King of Demonkin, was talking about?”

  “Mmm. In a way. But this is far bigger.”

  “So why was I chosen? Why not someone else?”

  “Bravery. Loyalty. Strength. Love. Compassion. Sacrifice. And Wisdom. All are in you. And all must be given to him.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t understand.” What was this creature? She wasn’t human, demon, Dardaptoan, or Lupoiux. Or deity. Of that Aureliana was certain. Witch or Druid, perhaps? Some of them were extremely old, after all. “Him who?”

  The woman turned around and stepped closer to the fireplace that burned with a cheery fire. The cottage was so...homey. Welcoming. Was it all an illusion? Some sort of trap? The woman bent and retrieved something from somewhere Aureliana couldn’t quite see due to the table blocking her view.

  And then the woman carried the bundle toward the bed, a smile on her wrinkled face. “Him. A special child who holds great power. And who holds the worlds—all eighteen of them—in his tiny fists.”

  She laid the bundle on Aureliana’s lap, and unwrapped the soft blanket. A babe, no more than a day or two old, slept peacefully. One tiny fist was tucked to his cheek.

  “All of those orphans and foundlings you have rescued, found loving homes for, and watched over from afar for so many years were in preparation for this day, Aureliana Marisan Elestria Adrastos. For you have raised none from mere babe, not even the girl Bronwen, but this child shall need you the way a child needs a mother. From the very beginning. He is now your son, whereas those other babes always had someone else. He has none but you to love him. And love him you will. Raise him as your son. For if he is raised in love and strength, he will grow in love and strength and other things, but if he is raised in hate the worlds will be filled with nothing but hate and pain. So, my dear girl, the fates of the worlds rests in your hands now.”

  The babe opened his eyes, the strangest blue she had ever seen. He blinked at Aureliana in that expression typical of newborns of any Kind. He looked much like Danae’s young daughter, all red and wrinkled from birth. “Who is his mother? His father? He had to come from someone.”

  “You need not concern yourself with them. They are not of the worlds any longer. Their destiny was to bring forth this child, and that is what they have done. Now that the time was when it should be. They had waited four thousand years to birth their only child to give to you. Honor them well.”

  “But why me? How do I know this isn’t some sort of odd trick?” Or a dream, a hallucination?

  “Is it? Do you not feel the truth of things in your heart? In your very depths you know this is your son. I have watched you, child, for four hundred plus years. I know what your
heart longs for, and I know you will protect him and raise him correctly. And you will have young Cerridwen to help you.”

  “I will?” How much help could a five-year-old be in raising a babe?

  “Yes. Auri, I gots powers now.” The little girl threw back the blankets and levitated three inches off the bed.

  “Cerridwen was chosen because of her connection to you, and was rewarded for her part. She was granted certain gifts, to aid you in the raising of the male child. Gifts she and her progeny will retain throughout their lives.”

  “I’m supposed to look after him. To be his big sister. That makes you my momma, too!” Tiny arms wrapped around Aureliana’s neck, but Cerridwen was careful of the babe. He was still blinking, looking around like he was taking everything in. Aureliana tightened her hold on him.

  “That’s...wonderful, sweetheart.” Aureliana looked at the old woman. “Does he have a name?”

  “Arthaios Arkhun. It means ancient beginning. But you may shorten it to whatever you like, perhaps Thas? Thas would fit him beautifully when he becomes a man.”

  The babe nuzzled her. Auri brushed a finger down his soft cheek. “What do I feed him? What is he? Demon, deity? How will I know what to do for him?”

  “He is those things and all others. He holds the wisdom of many Kinds. And you will know what to feed him, when the time comes to feed him. This will be true in all things.”

  “Where are we? What realm? How do I get him and Cerridwen home?” She would take this babe, could not imagine doing anything else. He did belong with her, for as long as she was living. And when the inevitable happened and the Beansidhe stole her soul she would ensure Kindara or Aodhan raised him well. He would be loved and protected no matter what creature or Kind he actually was.

  How could she not?

  He had no one else.

  The old woman—whatever she was—was gone.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Aureliana found some cloth—lightweight but sturdy—in a trunk near the fireplace. She used it to fashion a crude sling for the babe to ride in. “Cerridwen, we will need food and water. Can you look for water for me? Did the lady say where we are, exactly?”