The Heart of the Ancients

by Elizabeth Isaacs

  “What does this have to do with me?” I shivered as Rune practically stared right through me.

  “You’ll be part of the strongest of our lore. I’d be knowin’ it as soon as I sensed yer sassy hide in that cave, but I couldn’t be tellin’ ya any of it ‘cause of the oath of our kind.” Rune rubbed his hand across his forehead, his stance weary. “Come, I’ll be showin’ ya what you’ll be needin’ t’ see.”

  Rune hopped off his stool and headed toward the door. “You two’ll be the only ones goin’. The others’ll be findin’ their way to their rooms.”

  “Like hell I will,” Weylin stated. “I go where the Princess goes. No exceptions.”

  Rune’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll be knowin’ yer the Light’s Guardian. But it’ll be causin’ a ruckus if I’m t’ be bringin’ someone other than the Nora and her source.”

  Weylin took a menacing step forward. “So be it. Where Nora goes, I go.”

  Rune’s feathers ruffled. “You’ll be offendin’ the Urisk guardin’ our most sacred cave.”

  Weylin scowled. “They’ll get over it.”

  Gavin stayed quiet during the exchange.

  Rune threw his hands up. “Fine. You’ll be tryin’ t’ follow anyway, and I’ll not be wantin’ to deal with the drama of yer hide gettin’ kicked by a Urisk half yer size.”

  “Bring it on.” Weylin’s features chiseled, his body practically hummed with the idea of a fight.

  Rune shook his head, his smile not reaching his eyes. “Careful, lad. You’ll not be the best in our world. Not by a long shot.”

  “Settle down, both of you,” I finally said, tired of the bickering. “Rune, surely the Urisk will understand that Weylin is my guard.” I looked at Weylin. “And you. Can you make an effort and try to get along? We’re all on the same team here.”

  They both grumbled, but Rune turned to lead, and Weylin fell in step behind me in his regular spot.

  Why didn’t you chime in back there?

  “Because Weylin’s right,” Gavin whispered. “He is to be with you at all times, but I didn’t want to offend Rune by agreeing with him.”

  The air grew cooler as we made our way through rocky corridors. I found it odd that the tunnels were left in their natural state. Every other place we had gone had been smoothed by the Urisk music.

  Sentries stood every few hundred yards or so, their long, stone sickles held proudly across their chests. Rune bowed and stopped at each post. The guard did not make eye contact, but judging by their harsh expressions I had a feeling Rune was right. They were offended that we’d brought Weylin along.

  “You’ll be goin’ no further, warrior,” Rune grumbled as we stopped at the mouth of the cave. “And before you start fussin’, this’ll be a small space, and you’ll be seein’ the Princess from here.”

  Rune extended the light across the cavern, and, sure enough, the space couldn’t have been more than ten square feet.

  “The Prince’ll be waitin’ here too. Not sure his big frame’ll be fittin’, and the Lass’ll be sending him her thoughts anyway.” Rune scowled at the last of that statement.

  Gavin looked around the cavern and then nodded, letting go of my elbow. Rune’s bony gray hand reached for mine, and he took a few steps into the cave.

  The dome-shaped cavern and sculpted scenes reminded me of an ancient rotunda. Each scene held distinctive traits, but they seemed filtered, like I was seeing them through water.

  “There’d be sacred caverns throughout the caves of Pictavia, but this’ll be the only one in this mountain. Me Molly insisted on creatin’ it. She figured it’d be easier for you t’ be seeing what’s in a Urisk’s heart.”

  Rune’s brow lowered as he led me to the left of the cave’s entrance. “This’ll be where you’ll be startin’. They’ll be in order, so you’ll be needin’ t’ move’ to the next until you’ll be endin’ there.”

  He took a step back, not meeting my gaze. “I’ll be askin’ that ya wait until I’m well away from here before yer touchin’ the stone.”

  “Why?”

  Rune seemed surprised by the question. “The Urisk’ll be communicatin’ words and images freely. But music ... music’ll be another matter, now wouldn’ it?” He ran his fingers along the subtle recesses of the rock. “You’ve been hearin’ me play since the first night I’d found these toes in yer castle. I’d given me gift freely, but that’ll not be the case here, will it? Urisk music is a powerful thing, Lass. Songs shared aloud are a gift t’ those hearin’ it. But even then, the energy’ll be less because the music’ll be busy makin’ waves t’ be travelin’ through the air. Now music shared heart to heart. That’ll be the most powerful of all.” His fingers dropped from the stone, and he turned away from me. “Melodies created within’ are somethin’ Urisk only share with their mate.” Rune looked away and sighed. “‘Tis rare t’ be sharin’ our legacy this way, but me Molly’s a shrewd one, she is. These walls’ll be containin’ me Molly’s voice as only I’ll be hearin’ her. I’m not mindin’ her sharin’ with you. But I’ll be choosin’ not t’ be rememberin’ that yer mate’ll be hearin’ it too.” His eyes illumined to a dusty blue. “No. I’ll not be thinkin’ of that at all. But I’ll not be stickin’ around t’ watch neither. There’s only so much a Urisk’ll take before he protects what’s his.”

  “Rune ...” I reached out to him, but he backed away.

  “We’ll not be speakin’ of this again, Lass. The Urisk are sworn to never be lettin’ this tale pass through their lips. It’ll be necessary t’ be tellin’ ya, and so me Molly thought this’d be a good way t’ be doin’ it, seein’ as ya can’t hear with your mind. But I’ll not be likin’ it. Not one bit.” He stormed past Gavin and Weylin, picking up speed until he disappeared from sight.

  I faced Gavin. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this.”

  He took a deep breath. “I’d agree if we had time to learn any other way. But we don’t, and if you walk out of this cavern and refuse the gift Molly has offered, the Urisk will view it as selfish. Both Rune and Molly are willing to sacrifice so we may understand. We have no choice but to honor them by doing what they’ve asked.”

  Reluctantly, I agreed and walked to the center of the cavern. Releasing a little energy, I was glad to see the walls respond. At least my power worked this far in the mountain anyway.

  I looked at the scene in front of me. Smooth rock held mottled images, reminding me of the subtle brush strokes of Monet. There was an impression of a landscape from far away, but up close no details existed. The second mural contrasted the first as it had intricate depictions of modern life, but the final scene was nothing but sharp, jagged crevices and long, serrated lines.

  Nervous energy ran through me as I stared at the first mural. Whatever was housed here had only been told from Urisk to Urisk. No one outside their kind had heard the tale. My thoughts rushed over their banks, and I tried to control the growing panic.

  Gavin dipped his shoulder and stepped into the small space. “Nora, quiet your mind.”

  His broad chest warmed my back.

  I took a few shallow breaths. “I can’t. What if this is a mistake?”

  Gavin kissed my neck. “Close your eyes.” His chin rested on my shoulder. One hand made its way to my lower stomach, gently pulling me to him. His shoulders dipped around my small frame. “You and me. We’ve done this before.” Soft kisses made their way up my neck. “First, with Michael’s painting.” He kissed under my ear. “Then with Malachi’s.” His other hand slid down my arm, his palm resting on the back of my hand as his fingers wove between mine. “We even managed to survive Jayril and Mia’s memories, together.”

  My heart settled. He had a point. I could feel his cheek rise with a smile as he kissed my neck.

  “Focus, love. This is you and me, Nora. Just you and me.”

  I took a deep breath as his palm circled below my belly button. He waited until my thoughts eased into a quiet current.

  “Nothing to it,” he whispered as he brou
ght our woven fingers to his lips. He kissed my wrist, right below his amulet, and extended our arms until cold stone brushed across my palm.

  Images of a small Urisk choir came into focus. They stood in a tight circle, huddled in the center of the room. Many voices sang a single pitch. The rocky walls undulated as they broke into dissonant harmony. The jagged slate rippled to smooth rock as if the mountain had become liquid.

  A single lilting voice crescendoed above the others. The tone so incredibly pure my body practically vibrated with every nuance.

  “That must be Molly,” I whispered.

  The background choir, which a moment ago seemed so clear, now almost sounded as if they were muffled, and understanding dawned. The Urisk wouldn’t be able to create this scene without singing aloud. The choir created the canvas, but Molly’s intent would shape the stone. Her melody reminded me of Celtic music, and it rang purer because she was singing with her mind while she formed the landscape.

  “Gavin? What’s happening?” I whispered as the melody slowed, becoming haunting and low. Images flashed through my mind—gray bodies crawled from a black pit.

  “I think that must be the original Dokkalfar, the first clan of Jayril.”

  “Yes,” I leaned into him for comfort. “But how would Molly be able to see that?”

  “I don’t know.”

  The choir’s harmony grew dark. The scenes flitted and changed, showing how Urisk struggled to make Earth’s Pictavia their home. Roman architecture flashed as chariots and bathhouses came into view. Towers extended upward, makeshift pillars reaching toward the sky; men worked frantically. And then a lightning strike. Fire. The scene blazed from the fringes, engulfing the center, leaving nothing but darkness and the soft, discordant sounds of the chorus.

  “The destruction of Babel. But how would she know? Surely, she wasn’t there?” I shook my head.

  “Rune once told me the Urisk believe that the Dokkalfar’s black flames were tied to destruction of Babel. I guess these must be the shared memories of the Urisk ancestors.”

  Molly’s song crescendoed, bringing my attention back to the lyrics. Slick, gray bodies fought one another over the vast desert lands. They broke into two factions. One stayed while the other fled toward the mountains.

  The music turned poignant, and Molly’s haunting Celtic tune, so steeped in pain, lilted through as a young, bright-eyed Rune came into focus. The Urisk charged into battle, skirting over boulders that lay nestled at the bottom of a ravine.

  White noise rose in the distance. I held my breath as thousands of Dokkalfar poured over the opposite ridge, another group coming from behind.

  Rune’s feathers plumed, as he bared his teeth and let loose a battle cry. His plea for Molly to run echoed in my mind as the endless carnage played out. The fighting continued until green fields streamed with red and black blood. Molly wailed, searching the sea of dead, her heart calling one name over and over.

  Rune.

  Her soul song ran through me, and I ached with her loneliness and grief. The scene mercifully faded, and Gavin lifted my hand and kissed my palm.

  I glanced at the other two scenes, suddenly worried.

  “If it’s too much I’ll pull your hand away.” He held me for a moment before he led me to the back of the cave.

  “If that was the past, this must be the present,” I pointed to the modern roads scarring the mountain’s side.

  “You ready?” Gavin mumbled.

  I nodded, and he ran our hands across the stone.

  Relief flooded through me as the images took on an objective tone and the choir’s open harmony filled my ears. The pictures flashed at lightning speed—the Roman era, Dark Ages, Renaissance—each one showing the Urisk and how they defended the unprotected and fought the enemy. Molly’s detached voice carried over the chords, her melody darker and angry. The scenes began to slow. Man’s growth in science and machinery slammed in my thoughts; the music became twisted, ugly. Dokkalfar, no longer gray but pitch black, murdered innocents and destroyed everything in sight. The pictures played with horrid clarity, revealing the Dokkalfar’s strategy. Seeing that humans in modern cultures were destroying their environment for the sake of self-indulgence, the Dokkalfar focused their attention on poorer nations, whose terrain still flourished. A century of ethnic cleansing, deforestation, and war assured the land weakened and humans stayed in abject poverty. The result was a perfect contrast. In certain parts of the world, millions of children died of starvation and disease while other countries held excesses and riches never before seen. Earth became a place of greedy extremes. Societies lost the ability to relate to one another, choosing instead to focus on their own. No one noticed the one common theme every culture held.

  The world itself was dying.

  The harsh music grew, blending with Molly’s despair, as her helplessness and disappointment surged. Images of pollution, overpopulation, tyranny, suffering, drugs, and violence combined with greed and decadence. Pictures flashed faster and faster as the music crescendoed to unbearable noise.

  And then everything stopped. The scene faded to black, and Gavin lifted my hand from the mural.

  “Maybe we should wait until tomorrow before we touch this one,” I muttered, emotionally more drained than I’d been in a long time.

  Gavin took a deep breath. “I’d rather get it over with.”

  I looked at the final panel. “What do you think this is about?” The other murals held one significant scene, but this mural had a deep groove running down the middle, showing two sides of the same mountain. One side had been completely decimated while the other half flourished.

  “The first panel was the past, the second the present. This must be the future.”

  I shook my head. “But the future’s never really set. One decision can change fate.”

  Gavin’s expression remained haunted. “We can only hope.”

  I started to ask him what he meant, but Gavin placed his and over mine. “Let’s do this,” he muttered.

  He kissed my palm before pressing it against the wall.

  Molly’s Celtic tune filled my ears once again as images of that mountain came into view. Desolation and heartbreak weighed on my chest as the Earth, no longer lush and green, now sprawled before us in bleak desolation. Dead branches hung on decaying trunks, the only sign of life came from a few tender shoots on the top branches. Dark clouds released a black oil-slicked rain that smothered any hope of new life. Carcasses, both animal and human, lay throughout the forest, among them some still crawling, trying to survive. The soil, no longer fertile and dark, lay gray, barren, and useless. Smog swept in from the west, settling into the rocks and valleys like a blanket of death. Molly stopped singing, and the air no longer moved. Everything stilled.

  I struggled to breathe as I realized we were witnessing the last moments of life on Earth.

  Molly’s voice reverberated, chanting the Ancient Language on one lone tone.

  “The course of fate is not yet set, a destiny not yet chosen. Through the weakness of man, one will be born of pure intent. She will nurture our spirit and be our Light to the darkness, our hope to despair, our lover of the hated, and our compassion for the wicked. She will redeem the ones born of light who stumbled into darkness and destroy the ones of the darkness who mock the light. Our Light will leave the one that has been marked but has refused to be claimed, surrendering all that is within and is to come. For only in that which she willingly gives, will the hopes of Creation be redeemed.”

  The scene switched to two giant statues guarding the entrance to a cave.

  “For centuries, we have prepared for a time when she guides the lost back to the beginning, leading them to the path of redemption. Only then will the blaze of evil be contained.”

  The vision shifted, and a light appeared within the cavern, the darkness fighting its power. The bright energy flickered, guiding us through a tunnel, which ended at the edge of a cavernous well. Familiar blue flames danced in its depths.
/>   The scene went black again.

  A choir of Urisk hummed in perfect harmony. Molly’s hope and love threaded through the despair; its sweet embrace enveloped the darkness.

  “She will depart this realm, but another will remain, and he will father a warrior nation—one that will serve not only the good of mankind but the good of all. For in honoring the Light’s intent he will maintain balance throughout the ages.”

  White light exploded all around as Molly’s song soared.

  Animals scurried through the dense underbrush. Soft, clean rain tickled large, vibrant leaves. Rounded huts, made from stone and wood, stood in open spaces, their roofs constructed with long grasses and something similar to solar panels. Steps wound around huge trunks leading to other houses high in the canopy’s foliage.

  People—or possibly kinsmen—worked in patches of cleared ground, tilling the soil and gathering food. Children played with sticks and balls made of twine, their laughter rang over the sounds of abundant life.

  The Urisk harmonies ended on a final chord as Molly’s haunting melody blended in.

  “A path not yet chosen; a choice not yet made. Our Light alone will serve as the key, guiding the lost to redemption. For in her sacrifice, creation, at last, will find peace.”

  The song faded, and Gavin pulled my hand from the wall.

  Chapter 14

  Denial

  We made our way back to the chamber in silence. Weylin must have known how drained Gavin and I were because he didn’t ask about the memories embedded in the cave.

  Rune stood by the entrance to our chamber. “I’ll be playin’ so you’ll be hearin’. You’ll be needin’ a peaceful night’s sleep, Lass.”

  I grabbed him and pulled him into a fierce hug. Tears flooded my eyes. “Rune, you have to help me,” I whispered, clutching him. “The Urisk’s prophecy is wrong. You’ve made a mistake. Gavin ... it’s supposed to be Gavin. He’s the one that’s going to save everything. I’m just his source.”