by Lisa Morrow
My sense of wonder grew as we walked among the magical clouds. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”
I reached out and brushed my fingers across one drifting in front of me. It might have been my imagination, but it felt soft and cool beneath my fingertips. I smiled. This was truly a place of magic.
“When they built the Oracle’s home, the goddess Nepheia, the goddess of the cloud nymphs, blessed this place.” He paused, looking back at me. “And even though we are forsaken, the nymphs still send us clouds.”
He looked sad as he spoke, his big brown eyes reminding me of a pet dog Sirena had once had.
I struggled with something to reassure him. “Maybe the nymphs continue sending clouds because the people of Tarak are still in their hearts.”
He smiled. “Perhaps.”
I looked to Clarissa, not sure what else to say. She was trying her best to look bored, but anger boiled beneath her surface. What was going on?
“Can we move this along, boy?” she hissed. “I’m sick of watching you fawn over her.”
Red hot embarrassment rose to his cheeks and spread down his throat and over his face. “My apologies,” he whispered, before scurrying faster.
He led us at last to the Oracle’s home. Tall white pillars, thicker than any man rose in what appeared to be a massive circle. White stone steps, smooth and flawless, led us beneath the pillars and into a wide space.
Looking up, the pillars rose and disappeared into thick white clouds that filled the air not thirty feet above us. Sheer curtains of white fabric hung between the pillars, blowing in the soft breeze and creating constant movement around us.
I stood still, my heart racing. This is how I’d imagined Unity, the goddesses’ home in the clouds. There was an air of something beyond magic, something sacred and unexplainable. The hairs on my arms stood on end as another cool breeze swept over us. A hint of rain scented the air.
If I were a sailor, I might think it was an omen, but all I knew of the sea was from books, and so I couldn’t be certain if it were a bad omen or a good one. Still, I chewed at my bottom lips, torn between fear and excitement.
Jundro guided us across the white floor, which glittered beneath the glow of hundreds of candles, flickering from their random spots built into the pillars. Our feet sounded monstrous and inelegant as we crossed the floor. In the center, stairs led down into darkness, but we continued past these to a line of more thin curtains. They shifted as we paused in front of them, revealing more steps going up, lit by small candles.
“She has arrived,” Jundro called.
We waited for another long minute, and then, as if he’d received a response, he pushed back the curtains and turned back to stare at me expectantly. I was reluctant to move past him, apprehensive of what I might find. To be in the presence of someone who could, or had, been able to speak to the goddesses was a wondrous thing.
I inched forward.
Small flames lit the way, leading up to a platform where the clouds parted, revealing more pillars. Neither Clarissa nor Jundro followed me, and I got the sense that they’d known all along that I would go on alone.
I crept up the stairs until finally reaching the top, but what I saw confused me. Leaning down, my fingertips brushed the floor. They broke through the freezing surface, sending tiny ripples through the clear substance. Light came from somewhere beneath the floor made of water, illuminating the pool in front of me.
Standing up straight, my gaze scoured the massive pool of water, now glowing softly. A tiny path of white stone rose, less than an inch below the surface. Beyond that, the path led to an island of white marble, upon which, an old man sat on a marble bench, staring into a basin.
“You may approach him.”
I spun around. Jundro had soundlessly come to stand on the step just below me. Clarissa, however, was nowhere to be found.
Kneeling on the steps, I removed my boots on instinct and ran my hands nervously along the skirt of my blue dress. Not once that day had I considered the appropriateness of what I wore. It was out of style, but practical. Next to the pristine white around me, however, the dress seemed terribly out of place.
“Just walk right across,” Jundro said, tapping his bare foot in a nervous gesture.
I rose and gathered my skirt in my hands, just enough to keep it from getting wet, but not so much as to offend the Oracle. Dipping my foot into the water, my breath caught in my throat. It was colder than I thought possible. My foot came solidly upon the stone.
Testing my weight on it, the step held.
In less time than I’d expected, I made it across the water to the island of white marble, and the Oracle.
Jundro followed, standing beside me on the island.
Only the white marble table, with the basin, separated the old man from us.
“Oracle,” he whispered, bowing low.
I followed his lead, but couldn’t resist peeking up at the old man. He was neither fat nor thin, with tiny wisps of pale white hair growing from his otherwise bald head. Dark age spots marred his head and wrinkled face, and his eyelids had fallen so low, that only tiny slivers revealed blue eyes. He too wore a white robe, only it was adorned by nothing, no gold, no intricate symbols or designs.
The Oracles mouth moved, but no words came past his lips.
“He wants you to sit beside him,” Jundro murmured.
My heart fluttered in my chest. Could I really sit beside a man so blessed by the goddesses?
Clouds gathered more thickly over our heads.
Would my presence in this sacred place offend the goddesses? I was no longer just a girl. I was a Protector, whether I wanted to be or not, and some of the goddesses were very angry with us.
“What if I anger the goddesses?” I asked.
Jundro stiffened beside me. “You are the only person in all of Tarak who the goddesses are not angry with.”
I almost smiled at his jest.
The seriousness in his face stopped me.
Something heavy settled in my stomach. There was more to this meeting than I’d considered. But what lies had Blair told this poor boy, and perhaps, even the Oracle himself?
My legs trembled as I padded around the basin and settled myself on the far end of the bench.
The Oracle rose slowly, his back hunched.
Jundro hurried to his side, but the Oracle shooed him away with a wave of his hand. The boy took a step back, but didn’t go far.
To my complete horror and surprise, the Oracle struggled around the basin and knelt down before me, taking my hands in his wrinkled ones.
“No,” I cried, shaking my head in horror. “You can’t.”
A man so blessed by the goddesses could not bow before me, could not kneel before me. All of Unity would scream in outrage!
But then, although I hadn’t thought it possible, things got worse. Tears ran down The Oracles’ face.
I scrambled from the bench and knelt down, my hands still held gently by his. “Please,” I begged. “Whatever I’ve done, I’m sorry.”
Jundro spoke, his voice made uneven by his unshed tears. “He cries for joy. It has been so long since he last saw the goddesses, so long since he was in their presence.”
“I’m not a goddess,” I said, pleading with Jundro to listen. “I don’t know what Blair told you, but I’m just a girl. A Protector blessed with magic, but that’s all.”
The Oracle’s lips moved again, but no words came out. My heart lurched in my chest at the sight of tears running down his sagging cheeks.
“He says that you are not a goddess, but you are the only living person who can speak to the goddesses. The only person who has the power of their names.”
“Yes,” I said, my voice sounding desperate even to my own ears. “I can say a goddess’s name and use her powers, but that’s all. Please, tell him Jundro, I can’t speak to the goddesses.”
“He hears you, Rose, but he cannot believe that you understand so little about your powers.” They
both looked at me, and then, Jundro knelt down beside me too. “Do you know what happens when you use the goddesses’ true name?”
I shook my head.
Surprise filled his eyes. “Well,” he explained, clearing his throat. “When you speak their names, and use their powers, it is like you’re brushing your thumb against the back of their hand, with a touch as light as a feather. They feel you as you use their magic, but only if they really focus.”
I shivered and pulled my hands free of the Oracle. The idea of my hands touching a goddess was horrifying, and yet, incredible. Could it be possible that my magic was really capable of such a thing?
“But— But that doesn’t mean I can speak to them. I just say their names and use powers influenced by them.”
The Oracle reached for my hands again, and I reluctantly let him take them. His mouth moved again, but it was Jundro that spoke.
“There have only been perhaps a handful of people since the beginning of records who could use magic the way you can, and they could all speak to the goddesses.”
My memories raced to the conversation I’d heard between Blair and Meisha. All those who stand beside her will fall at her feet, their blood staining her hands forever. Their words had been nothing more than frightening, but now, they took on a whole new meaning. If I could truly talk to the goddesses, I might very well be powerful enough to create the kind of havoc they’d believed so completely.
“I can’t do this,” I murmured, and then, a thought struck me. “And what about Blair?” I pulled my hands free of the Oracle and stood. “She can do what I can do, only she’s stronger!”
Jundro helped the Oracle rise, and the younger man settled him gently on the bench.
The Oracle looked tired, and even older than when I’d first seen him.
Jundro sat down beside the old man and wrapped his arm around his shoulders. “Rose, I’m sorry. We’d expected you to know more, but we shouldn’t have.” He rushed to add. “Through no fault of your own.”
I didn’t know what to say, but I hung my head. “I come from a small village. We thought the best way to avoid any trouble was to keep our heads down and work hard.”
“Many villagers in the center of Tarak, away from the threat of the Undead wizards, are as unaware as you are. We just thought—hoped—.” Jundro’s shoulders fell. “It doesn’t matter. You can learn all of this, but the important thing you need to know is that neither Blair nor the Oracle can speak to the goddesses anymore.”
“But Blair can still use her magic.”
“Yes, but Blair and the Oracle were punished by the goddesses for the loss of the wizards.”
So that’s why Blair was no longer allowed to use Zeuita or Hadia’s names! “I understand why they’d be mad at Blair, but why the Oracle?”
The old man looked up at me, and the light caught the tiny bit of his blue irises, revealed beneath his sagging eyelids. An unexpected kinship rose inside of me. I was able to use magic from the goddesses. What would it be like to lose such power now? And what must it have been like for the Oracle to lose a power like his?
Jundro sighed. “The Oracle prefers I not speak of this. We never do. But, I think it’s important you know. Queen Gaudias demanded that he beg the goddesses to forgive us for killing the wizards. The queen ordered him to call upon Zeuita, and the goddess cursed him for his insolence.”
I gasped. He called upon Zeuita? The goddess of all goddesses? I would gladly face the Undead wizards again rather than stare into the face of someone with such power, and such a reputation for both her kindness and cruelty.
“So that’s why he can’t speak to the goddesses.”
“Yes,” Jundro squeezed the old man’s shoulder. “But, she also took away his ability to speak. And, she aged him.”
I studied the old man. “How old was he before?”
Jundro smiled. “He’s actually my brother.” My mouth dropped open, and I know I must have looked ridiculous, because Jundro laughed. “He’s my older brother, but only by a few years.”
I wanted to return his smile, or enjoy his laughter, but there was a falseness to it that brought tears to my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I managed to choke past the lump forming in my throat.
“Don’t be,” Jundro said. “Because you are going to be able to accomplish what the Oracle never could, you will be able to get the goddesses to forgive us, and rid the world of the Undead wizards.”
He must be joking. Only, he was serious. He actually believed I would be able to fix all the world’s problems. Asher was the solution, not me. I knew it.
I took a deep breath. “But I might not even need to do anything. I’ve found a living wizard.”
Jundro stiffened, then a grin spread his lips. “You’re certain?”
I nodded, holding my breath.
“That might make a huge difference… that might be part of what’s needed to finally end this war.”
My heart sank. “Part of?”
He looked to the Oracle as the old man’s lips moved. “Yes, part of, but you still must speak to goddesses. We can’t win if they’re still punishing us.”
Some of my hope died. “I can’t even talk to the goddesses.”
Talking to them wasn’t even the biggest of my problems. If the Oracle had failed to convince them, what hope did I have? And, a cowardly part of me also wondered if I too would end up like the Oracle if I chose to call upon the goddesses.
“We can teach you, but you have to want to.”
I looked away from his knowing gaze, studying my sweaty palms.
His voice was soft as he spoke, “there is no dishonor in being afraid, but you must know, your circumstances are different from the Oracle’s. He knew when he called upon Zeuita that it was a mistake. He’d spoken to both Artemay and Libra, and both told him that Zeuita would hear nothing of reversing her sister’s decision to allow the Undead wizard’s to return.”
“But Zeuita is in charge. Why couldn’t she just order Hadia to keep the Undead wizards dead?”
I looked up, and the Oracle was smiling. He tugged at Jundro’s robe, and his mouth began to move rapidly.
“Just because Zeuita is in charge, doesn’t mean she’s the most powerful. Hadia could’ve been in charge of the goddesses. But when they overthrew their mother, they divided up the kingdom between them. If Hadia hadn’t chosen the Underworld to prevent a war between her sisters, she could’ve been the goddess of all goddesses.”
If anyone but the Oracle had shared such an idea, I’d have called them a liar. I’d have insisted that Zeuita was the most powerful goddess to ever live, but it was hard to argue with someone who had actually met the goddesses. And yet, to think of Hadia as being as powerful as Zeuita felt wrong.
“So Zeuita was,” I winched, “afraid of her sister.”
“Yes, but she was also mad at us. We killed all of the men they’d blessed with magic. We’d killed half the humans they considered most valuable. Zeuita wanted us to suffer, but she would have punished us differently, had Hadia not granted the wizards’ revenge.”
My head began to ache, and I rubbed my temple. “Zeuita wanted to punish us, but she didn’t like the way her sister chose to do it.”
“Exactly.”
“Then, what could possibly change her mind now?”
“You.”
I took a few steps and dropped down onto the bench next to Jundro. “Why?”
Why did they think I would be successful where the Oracle had failed? Why were they so convinced that I was so special?
“Because of your mom, of course.”
My breath caught in my throat, and I turned to him, wide-eyed. “My mom?”
“Yes, she was favored by Zeuita herself. It’s said she was there the day your mother was born, and the day she gave birth to you.”
“That can’t be true.”
Jundro watched me carefully, as if he couldn’t quite believe my ignorance. “It’s true, and what’s more, we have reason to
believe Zeuita has grown tired of this war. She needs only an excuse to free us of the Undead wizards. You’re our best chance for that.”
My thoughts snapped between my mom and the heavy burden they were placing on my shoulders. “What do you know about my mother?”
Jundro’s gaze flew to the Oracle.
The old man nodded.
“We know that she was destined to end this war and chose not to. We know her decision had serious consequences... for her, and all of Tarak.”
I’d heard this before. “But what happened to her?”
Jundro frowned. “We aren’t entirely certain, but we know she had to be taken somewhere, or killed, in order to change her destiny... in order to change your destiny.”
My stomach churned. Blair hadn’t said that. And Norma had said she was alive. Were they lying to me?
“Killed?” I repeated, softly.
“I spoke out of turn,” Jundro said, panic in his eyes. “We really don’t know anything for sure. Just that it is very difficult to change a person’s destiny.” He opened his mouth, then closed it, hesitating.
“What is it?” I asked, a spark of hope igniting inside of me.
“Blair should know what happened to her.” He avoided my gaze. “And I think she’d probably tell you, if you were successful tonight.”
The weight of his words fell heavily upon me. All I wanted to do was save Sirena and maybe discover something about my mother in the process. It was hard to believe all this nonsense about my destiny and my faith. And what was more, Blair had already claimed not to know what happened to my mother. Was she lying?
“I need to think,” I whispered, standing up and moving to the edge of the island of marble.
The water was still, while my mind swirled. I longed to dive beneath the freezing surface and swim until all thoughts of the last few weeks left my mind. It was becoming more and more clear to me that I had no idea who I was, and this thought frightened me.
In a world of magic and mystery, the most important thing was that I knew who I was deep down, and now I didn’t. Or perhaps I knew myself better than I ever had, except, that I was a different person than I thought. I was important, just as The Protectors had said. So what else had they said that was true? All those who stand beside her will fall at her feet, their blood staining her hands forever. Were they also right about my fate?