Harvest of Dreams (The Gods' Dream Trilogy)

by Debra Holland

  “Focus your mind on the Goddess Guinheld,” Wenda directed. “Then visualize a connection, like a line between your heart and Hers. Worship by sending your energy...adoration...gratitude….” She grimaced. “Many different names exist for the power we give our Deities. But it’s hard to explain to an outworlder because we learn this connection from the time we are babies. There’s no need for words.”

  “Does it last a long time?” Curiosity rose in her, accompanied by hope. If Guinheld really was a goddess, then during the meditation Sadie might actually feel a connection with a deity.

  “Not usually. Maybe ten minutes, unless Guinheld has need of more energy. Then it can last longer.”

  The sound of three chimes like crystal bells rang through the air. Wenda closed her eyes. Three more chimes followed.

  Sadie obediently closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing. She’d taken enough yoga classes to know what to do. But her resistance to any kind of spiritual practice kept her tense. Finally, she decided to use the exercise to just relax. Gradually, the deep breaths centered her, and Sadie felt her heartbeat slow. She became conscious of a heaviness in the air, like humidity, without the accompanying oppressive heat. She groped for a connection to the goddess these people believed in, visualized extending her hands in the direction of where they’d come from.

  Nothing. She couldn’t help feeling disappointed.

  Only a few minutes seemed to have elapsed before Sadie felt Wenda stir. She opened her eyes and stretched her arms, feeling more relaxed, even if she hadn’t experienced a spiritual awakening.

  Cheta rolled over and extended all four legs in the air.

  Sadie laughed and rubbed the dog’s bony ribs before rising.

  The dog jumped to her feet.

  “That was…interesting,” Sadie said, picking up the handles of her luggage.

  Wenda grabbed the straps of the backpack and stood. “The chimes ring every three hours. But if you’re sleeping, you don’t need to answer them. In fact, you won’t even hear them. Guinheld is respectful in that manner. If She does call upon you at night, then She has urgent need of power.”

  The two resumed their walk.

  The corridor ended at a wall. Wenda pressed a round circle set into the pale stone. “This takes us to the outside.” The circle expanded, becoming a door. “Guinheld powers these exits. You don’t have to think at doors like you do at windows.” She stepped through.

  Sadie followed her out of the temple, pulling the suitcase. A breeze tossed the tendrils of hair that had slipped from her braid across her cheeks. She lifted her face, enjoying the lavender beauty of the sky. The air smelled sweet. Perhaps the fragrance came from the orange flowers in the groundcover—they looked like miniature tulips with multiple heads. The crystal domes glittered in the sunlight, an interesting form of architecture. Distant mountains loomed, covered with snow. She turned to look behind her. The rugged mountains circled the city.

  A stone path led to several other domes set lower on the hill. Sadie gestured to Wenda, who’d been patiently waiting, to proceed. They took the right path until it ended at an egg-shaped building. The exterior sparkled in the sun.

  “Our guest quarters,” Wenda said. “You’ll have your own suite, but the building has other…visitors from Ocean’s Glory. Men. Soldiers. They’ll have their own section, but you’ll share a relaxation and eating area.”

  They entered the dome and found a reception area or living room, with cushioned couches made of stone arranged in a square. Definitely would be difficult to change the seating arrangements. Several stone side tables sat next to the couches. One large round table in the middle seemed to have been carved from the bedrock of the floor. The floor looked like a single piece of polished travertine with embedded glitter.

  No pictures hung on the walls, which made them look empty. But then again, if the walls themselves changed and became windows to the outdoors, it wouldn’t make sense to obscure the view. In spite of all the stone and the lack of ornamentation, the room felt comfortable and warm.

  “Where is everyone?”

  “I believe the men are outdoors. Or at least they were. I saw them practicing their weapons when I first walked to the temple today.”

  I have to go look for them. See if I can join their workout.

  “The soldiers are having a hard time with the differences here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Life in Zacatlan takes some getting used to—at least for those of us from Seagem. There, the priests and priestesses tend to lead busy, full lives. Here, there is a meditative quality about your time—a much slower pace. In fact, you’ll rarely see Zacatlan’s ancient one, Archpriestess Rodna, because she’s usually in seclusion, communing with Guinheld.”

  Cheta dropped to her hindquarters to scratch at her side.

  The women stopped to wait for her, and Wenda continued educating Sadie. “Here you’re encouraged to follow dashzhalt, which is an inner sense of being. To allow your dashzhalt to guide you. Flow from one moment to the other, regardless of what you’re doing.” She grinned. “The soldiers so far are unable to master the technique.”

  I can relate.

  “The people of Zacatlan have lived this way for hundreds of years. They’ve had a hard time adapting to the idea that their peaceful way of life is in danger. Since they have no contact with any other country, they have a difficult time fathoming the outside world. I think even Guinheld doesn’t completely understand.”

  Sadie still couldn’t wrap her mind around the concept of gods and goddesses. They sound more like the Greco-Roman mythological deities than the way Americans think of God.

  “There’s no army. No police force?”

  Wenda wrinkled her brow. “You mean guards?”

  Sadie nodded.

  “Zacatlan has thirty members of the guard. But, but this country also has something special—a line of warrior priests and priestesses. They are born with a unique type of othersense that lends itself to fighting, not healing like the rest of the priests and priestesses. These individuals lead the guard. You’ll meet our two when they return from their patrol of the perimeter.”

  “I look forward to it. I may come as quite a shock to them.”

  “Once Withea became powerful enough to communicate with Guinheld, She imparted a more realistic view of what’s happening outside their country. The people of Zacatlan don’t realize their lifestyle, their deep bond with their Goddess, makes their othersense more powerful than the average person in Seagem or Ocean’s Glory. Withea believes this country is a perfect target for Ontarem.”

  “But what could he do to them?”

  Wenda’s lips pressed together in a firm line. “Besides sack the city like he did Seagem? He’ll turn the people into his slaves, cutting off Guinheld’s energy source. She’ll be powerless like Withea was.”

  Wanting to give Wenda some comfort, Sadie commented. “Perhaps that’s what he did to Yadarius.” I can’t believe I’m talking as if their gods are real.

  Wenda gave a defeated shrug. “Yadarius was much more powerful than Guinheld, with Her small population. If He’s without power, it happened before the attack on Seagem, in a manner, that even the royal family, the strongest of us all, didn’t realize.” She shook her head. “I don’t see how the SeaGod could have lost His power. We always gave Him so much.”

  Shivers ran down Sadie’s spine. Once again, she wondered, how can I possibly make a difference in a war where magical statues who might be deities are involved?

  The two came to a cross-corridor. Wenda waved a hand to the right. “That’s the men’s

  side. The women stay in the left wing.” They turned and walked down the left corridor.

  The walls were the same pale alabaster stone as she’d seen everywhere else. Sadie couldn’t make out any doors, but she noticed small curved bumps head-height at regular intervals. One such bump held a bouquet of fragrant red flowers. A sweet scent drifted in her direction.


  Wenda placed her hand on the stone underneath the flowers, and a door slid open. “The flowers will distinguish your suite. I’ll leave you here.” The priestess gave her a warm smile. “At the sound of a gong, you’ll know to find the eating room. It’s a different vibration than the three meditation chimes. Just walk down this corridor to the right. The dog will be welcomed there, too. However, for now, I’ll have a meal brought to you both.”

  Cheta gave Wenda a pleased look.

  The priestess reached around the door. “The glow panel is inside each doorway and looks lighter than the rest of the stone. Just touch it.” At her words, a dim light filled the room. “Press harder if you need more brightness.” She set the backpack on the floor inside the door.

  “Sounds doable.”

  “Whoever brings the meal will take your dirty clothes to be cleaned. There’s a sleeping gown in the bedroom.”

  “Sounds like you’ve thought of everything.”

  “Zacatlan never had many guests, so they took good care of the few who came here. Even the infusion of hundreds from Seagem hasn’t changed their ways.” Wenda stepped back and crossed her arms over her body. She tucked her hands into her sleeves before bowing to Sadie.

  “Thank you.” Sadie sketched a bow in return before she stepped inside her suite, pushed her travel case next to the wall, and wheeled the suitcase behind her.

  Cheta followed and started sniffing around.

  The door slid closed. Her first impression was of elegant austerity. The furniture was made of the same stone as the buildings—a couch with cushions of a similar color, a round table with two stools that reminded her of mushrooms, and a stone shelf set into one of the walls.

  A glass vase on the table held flowers like those outside her door, filling the room with fragrance. The red petals were the only vivid hue in the room.

  Sadie glanced at the outside wall and visualized a window. Sure enough, the stone changed until it looked like glass, flooding the room with light and showing a view of a walled flower garden planted with more of the red flowers. Ginning at her accomplishment, she picked up her backpack and tossed it on the couch where the navy blue made a second splotch of color in the monochromatic room.

  Curious, Sadie walked through an open arch into a bedroom. Near a curved wall, beige fabric covered a narrow bed set on a raised stone platform. A round alabaster table stood next to it.

  A white gown lay across the bed. She walked over and picked up the soft material, holding the garment against her. It was long enough to reach to her feet and the cap sleeves and pale satin embroidery around the scooped neckline appealed to her. Different from the tank and shorts she usually slept in, but nice. She set the nightie back on the bed.

  Shelves opposite the bed and stone pegs next to them, made a simple wardrobe. One more arched doorway lead to a bathroom that, when Sadie poked her head in, looked surprisingly modern—tub, sink, toilet—all carved out of stone. A stack of fluffy towels rested on a shelf next to the tub.

  She walked back into the bedroom, sat on the bed, and thought about the sky. A panel over her head opened, flooding the room with sunlight. Feeling pleased with her ability, Sadie ran a hand over the soft covering of the bed. With all the stone, the suite should seem cold, but instead, the mellow hue of the opaque alabaster and the soft glow from the lavender sky gave the space a warmth that made Sadie feel right at home. Yet even as she thought the words, the strangeness of her situation hit her.

  Cheta dropped next to her and laid her head on Sadie’s knee.

  Sadie absently stroked the dog, thinking. She’d been coping with Bubby’s death and the subsequent adjustment of not having any living family, but now she was in a strange land in a different world, cut off from all she’d known.

  A wave of loneliness swept over her, lodging in her throat. Sadie swallowed hard, refusing to allow the emotions to well up. If she started crying, who knew when she’d stop?

  A knock sounded at the door.

  “Come in,” she called.

  The door slid aside to reveal a young girl in her teens, with a cute round face and thin white braids. Behind her stood another girl about the same age who had bony, interesting features. She wore her pale hair in a short, blunt cut.

  Cheta scooted forward to sniff around their legs. The dog must have judged the intruders harmless because she backed off to Sadie’s side.

  The cute girl smiled at Sadie and then at Cheta. “I’m Amily, and this is Merilyn. We’ve brought you and the dog some food.” She had the good manners not to stare, but her wide eyes and quick glances up and down Sadie showed her curiosity.

  Merilyn held up a big taupe cushion. “And I’ve brought your dog a bed.”

  Sadie dropped a hand to the dog’s head. “Cheta will appreciate your thoughtfulness.”

  The scent of food that smelled like stew preceded the girls into the room, making Sadie’s stomach growl.

  Cheta rushed toward Amily’s legs.

  Amily placed the tray on the table, unloaded the dishes and a metal carafe, and set the dog’s bowl on the floor. “Her food is pureed and nutritious but not so much to overload her stomach.” She placed an identical bowl of water next to it.

  As Cheta gobbled down her meal, Amily set the table and laid out the food.

  “How did you know what we needed?” Sadie asked

  “Guinheld bespoke us. She wanted us to see to the needs of both of you.”

  This belief of the goddess permeates their way of life. “Is that normal?”

  “Sometimes. She always has reasons for what She wants.”

  “Even animals?”

  “All are precious in Her sight. Yet She doesn’t usually interfere with the animals, so this one—” she touched Cheta’s shoulder “—must be special.”

  Sadie looked down at her new companion. “Cheta’s survived on her own after losing her family in the battle of Seagem and has remained sweet-tempered. So I’d say, yes, definitely special.”

  “I’ve never seen a dog like this. Ours are white and—” Amily made a round gesture with her hands. “Smaller, too.”

  “But we love them, and they love us,” Merilyn said in a loyal tone.

  Cheta finished eating, and gazed up at Sadie, devotion in her brown eyes.

  Just seeing her thinness, knowing what the animal had been through, made Sadie’s heart ache. She swallowed down a sudden lump in her throat. With an intuitive flash, somehow she knew the dog would play an important role in the coming war. Perhaps all she’s been through has made her stronger…prepared her for what she…we will face.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The group of four squeezed into the wheelhouse of the ship, staring at the ominous gray land of Louat. Jasmine cradled Shareef in her arms, stroking him for comfort. The monga had grown in the last days—both in his furry little body and in his ability to connect to her othersense bolstering her with small trickles.

  She could feel the stress radiating from each of them. Beside her, Indaran had taken the helm, although the pilot waited nearby on the lower deck, ready to aid if necessary. On Indaran’s other side, Daria and Khan held hands. The wind filled the sails, driving them ever closer to Penutar.

  After experiencing the relief of sailing away from Penutar into blue-green water free from Ontarem’s taint, a heavy feeling of oppression weighed Jasmine down, making her feel like she moved in slow motion. Ever since they’d crossed into the Evil God’s ocean, she’d struggled to maintain her connection with Arvintor. She had to balance sending enough energy to link with Him, yet also keep the power stream to a thread to avoid drawing more of Ontarem’s attention to them, thus alerting the Evil God to their plan.

  Once they’d sailed into Ontarem’s ocean, through her othersense, Jasmine could see a slimy black tentacle, about a foot in diameter, slither through the water and attach to the bow of the ship, locking them on course to the Evil One’s lair. She couldn’t look at the tether without shivering.

  The sailor aloft in the looko
ut shouted.

  Jasmine glanced up to see the man pointing toward the land. Although she couldn’t make out the sailor’s words, she knew he must have sighted the cove where they’d make a slight course correction to drop off the passengers and supplies, before the ship turned and fled to free waters. Pulse racing, she glanced over at her husband.

  Indaran clutched the wooden spokes of the wheel. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his skin looked pale under the tan he’d started to acquire since escaping the temple. He obviously hated returning to Louat.

  Jasmine wished she could send her husband some supportive energy, but she had all she could manage with maintaining the delicate contact with Arvintor.

  Indaran didn’t try to move the wheel to correct their course. The tether wouldn’t allow them to turn. When Ontarem had first taken hold of the ship, the pilot had tried to break free of His tow—not because they thought it possible, but because they knew the God would expect them to resist.

  Daria looked at her brother, obviously saw his struggle, and moved behind him to place a hand on his back, as if bolstering his strength.

  Indaran squared his shoulders and looked at Jasmine. “Now.”

  Focusing her attention, she opened the channel to Arvintor, reaching for the God’s energy to assist in breaking their ship free. Instead of the greeting she expected, followed by a flow of power to her, the energy in the conduit remained low. She extended her othersene for more but didn’t receive even a pulse from the God.

  Jasmine stretched her power. Still no aid. Her stomach clenched. What is wrong? What if He can’t help us?

  Arvintor! she yelled, putting her strength behind the mental call.

  The God didn’t answer.

  The ship sailed closer to the cove.

  Jasmine could see the distant edges of the cliff jutting into the ocean. Cold fear froze her body and must have shown on her face. She clutched Shareef to her chest, and he squeaked in protest.

  Khan, with big brother protectiveness, took two steps to her side and placed his hand on her shoulders. “What’s wrong?”