Every day the crystals set into the mountains and beaming at Yadarius lost a little more power, and the SeaGod grew stronger. Ontarem became impatient with the need to provide her energy, becoming stingy with the power she desperately needed. The struggles of the SeaGod to free Himself, and the time spent in the furnace heat of the cavern, had whittled Pasinae’s body to gauntness and drained her othersense. She’d never been so exhausted. But she pushed herself to endure.
However, the fatigue made her more vulnerable to the hallucinations caused by the intense heat of the cavern. Her parents, whose faces she’d never remembered before, now appeared regularly. Kokam, too, looked as alive as when she’d last seen her brother. The first time she’d seen a vision of him, the sight had startled her into losing her balance. Only a quick grab from Vaptor had saved her from falling into a deep crack.
The hallucinations cracked open a trove of memories, locked away when Ontarem’s priests had seize the triplets from their parents. Pasinae remembered the love and closeness the family had shared; how Ontarem had to numb her feelings of loss before she could turn to Him and make him her everything. She’d wondered if her parents were still alive.
Her unsteady emotions ran the gamut from joy to grief. Sometimes she had to blink away tears to continue her search.
Today, despite the desperation pushing her to hurry, Pasinae knew better than to move recklessly. She eyed the slick surface of the cavern floor before she placed each step.
Movement from the corner of her eye made Pasinae turn her head to the left, where she saw Kokam beckoning her to follow him. She shook her head and turned toward the area she intended to explore, but the hallucination of her brother appeared directly before her, blocking the way. Sighing, she gave in and signaled to Vaptor the direction she intended to take.
Vaptor jerked his thumb, telling her he was leaving. Dorent, her next protector, stepped up to take his place.
Pasinae ducked under an angled column, then swerved around a clump of prisms, her breathing heavy.
Still, Kokam moved on toward the back left of the interior.
Pasinae had to climb between a V-shaped crystal, then over a smaller one, lying sideways across her path.
Vaptor touched her elbow and signaled it was time to return to the outside.
She nodded, but stopped to give one more sweeping glance over the area.
Kokam pointed to a cluster of three crystals with a single root.
Gasping for air, not daring to hope, Pasinae trudged closer, pulling on Ontarem’s othersense power to give her the energy to move.
The God grudgingly gave a small push.
Up close, each of the three crystals looked similar in size and shape, and weren’t too big to transport out of the cavern and up the mountains. More importantly, all three ended in a perfect point.
Please, please, please! Slowly, Pasinae reached out and laid her palm on the nearest one. Power pulsed from the crystal through her and to Ontarem, augmenting her failing energy.
I’ve found them!
She looked up and met Kokam’s eyes. “Thank you, brother. With these, we’ll keep Yadarius prisoner.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Philan let his anger propel him through the streets of Seagem toward the temple of Yadarius. In the months since the destruction, he’d never walked through the desolation of this once beautiful city without his body heating and vibrating with hate for Thaddis of Ocean’s Glory. Over and over, he’d vowed to kill the king, no matter if it meant his own death. Only the even stronger need to protect the small remnant of Seagem’s population had held him back from tracking down the destroyer when Thaddis had left to search for Princess Daria.
As Philan stalked through the streets, he wanted to explode from the rage and bitterness churning inside him. How could I not have recognized Thaddis? The boy he’d been, who’d hero-worshiped the older prince from Ocean’s Glory, would never have recognized the white-haired man who’d stood before him today.
He and Seagem’s princes, along with Daria, had ranked as the king’s elite fighters. He’d been honored to serve as King Iceros personal bodyguard. In a soft moment, Micfal had once commented that with practice and experience, Philan would become good enough to best even him, the weaponsmaster. But today, I failed him. His ears almost burned with the sound of his grandsire’s reproofs.
When he’d realized his enemy lay within his grasp, he’d lost his head. Fought like a novice. The shame of that reaction churned in his gut.
But Micfal’s sharpest criticism couldn’t cut more than the realization he’d failed to kill Thaddis when he had a chance—the man would have lain dead at his feet if Philan had fought with all his skill. And then to be stopped by an unknown Goddess….
I’ll have another opportunity. As soon as I’m finished with this Goddess, I’ll hunt him down.
As he strode up the hill to the temple, Philan’s calves burned, another feeling that made him angry. In these last months, he should have pushed himself harder. In the old days, he regularly sprinted up this hill as a way to keep in top form.
He reached the temple and didn’t stop to look at the view of the city. His appreciation for the vista had shattered the day the invaders sailed unscathed through the rocky girdle surrounding Seagem.
He entered the courtyard and paused, seeing the activity centered around the pool, as people attempted to right the statue of Yadarius. Most wore white robes, citizens from Zacatlan, he supposed. Some black-clad soldiers, wearing in the uniform of Ocean’s Glory and hauling on the chains, made him clench his fists.
The sight flashed Philan back to when the seascum had sailed away from the city, taking his people as slaves and leaving behind only ruins. Only days after the battle, despite the protest of his healer, Philan had risen from his sickbed and climbed the hill to the temple in search of survivors and in a faint hope that somehow he’d find the SeaGod’s presence.
He’d been crazy with grief and still in pain from his wound, couldn’t see right with only one eye, kept tripping and falling. But he clawed the determination from within to do the duty that remained to him. But he’d found only bodies—pitiful remains of the priests and priestesses and the people who’d sought refuge in the temple. He couldn’t execute the sea ceremony for the slain, so Philan had built and lit a fire in the vast pit in the mourning place on the ocean side edge of the hill and said the words that would accompany the souls of the dead to the Halls of Yadarius. He’d never returned to the temple…nor had anyone else—all were unable to bear the pain of the empty building.
A touch on his arm brought him back to the present, and he looked down, blinking to focus his eye. “Wenda?” The priestess was a friend since childhood when they’d been part of a group that included the princess. The children would race through the halls of the palace playing hide and tag—looked upon, for the most part, with indulgence by the king, although the servants often swatted them out of the way with a broom or wooden spoon or cleaning rag. Even Daria hadn’t been immune. “Wenda,” he said again. “Have you been in Zacatlan all this time?”
Wenda gazed at him with tears in her eyes. She nodded, evidently too overcome to speak.
Philan remembered how her blue eyes had always sparkled with mischief, although she’d become somewhat more staid when she became a priestess. “I never thought to ask Zacatlan for help. Didn’t remember the country existed.”
Wenda reached up and gently touched the scar on his face. “My dear friend.” Her whisper vibrated with emotion. “I rejoice that you are alive. But your eye…” her voice faltered.
“I’m alive, Wenda.” He caught her hand and squeezed. “But more importantly, so are you, friend of my childhood. You are well?”
One tear dripped down her face. “My body is well. My heart....” She shook her head.
“Our hearts will never be well.” Philan hardened his voice. “Thaddis is here, Wenda. I just fought him. The girl with him stopped me from killing him. But I would have. I still w
ill.”
She gripped his arm. “I know. Guinheld healed Thaddis. Freed him from Ontarem’s chains. We are forbidden to harm him.”
“Ontarem? What chains?” Philan ground out. “Why would the Goddess side with the destroyer of Seagem?”
“There’s more to our world than we ever knew, Philan. First of all, we have six Gods and Goddess.”
“Six?”
Wenda briefly filled him in on the Deities, then told him the story of Ontarem and Thaddis.
Even though Philan heard her words, their meaning couldn’t sink into his mind. The idea of Thaddis as the evil destroyer was too deeply imbedded in his brain. He impatiently shrugged off her words. “That girl with him said I was summoned to Withea.”
Wenda lifted that determined chin of hers. “Then you must obey.” She waved a graceful hand to a far wall, tiled in iridescent mosaics, which he’d never paid attention to before, and saw the faint outline of an arched door. “That leads to Withea’s shrine. Go,” she said. “I’ll see you when you return.”
He clasped her hand, before striding toward the door, determined to make this interview with the Goddess as brief as possible. As he raised a hand to touch the tile, the entrance slid aside. He peered inside but couldn’t seem to make his eye focus enough to see what was there.
Come to me, Philan.
Shivers raced down his spine. As if pulled by an unseen force, he stepped inside. The door shut behind him, blocking out the sound of people. In the sudden silence, he could hear the tinkling of a fountain, and he cautiously walked in that direction. The room brightened, or maybe his eyesight focused, he didn’t know which. A hint of desert breeze, smelling of sunbaked sand, whirled around him, hot and dry, only to dissipate in the cool room.
Philan found himself near the edge of a circular pool. A draped figure of a woman stood on a pedestal in the middle. Droplets like fat tears dripped from her outstretched palm onto the surface of the water. He couldn’t see her face beneath the veil, but her eyes compelled him to come closer.
Philan moved until he reached the edge of the pool and blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Why didn’t you help us?”
Ontarem destroyed my city long ago. Without the energy given me by my people, I was helpless to prevent him from doing it again. And withdrawn Guinheld ever took the position of neutrality. I think my sister Goddess regrets that she didn’t do more than accept the refugees from Seagem into her land. But they, in turn, have given her more power, brought the reality of the wider world into her isolated realm. Their pain has made it difficult for Guinheld to turn her face from Ontarem’s ever-growing evil.
Philan inhaled a ragged breath. “My grandfather, my family? Are they in Zacatlan?” Even as he asked the question, he knew the answer. Had always known the answer. His warrior family would have fought to their deaths.
Princess Daria and your grandsire fled into the desert. The moment your grandsire crossed into my land, he became one of my own. He died in defense of your princess, who is now my priestess, and I guided him when he passed to the Halls of Yadarius. Daria and her mate made the rites for him.
“Then Daria truly is alive?” For the first time in months, he felt a surge of hope...of gratitude.
Thanks mostly to your grandsire.
Something hard and tight loosened in Philan’s chest. “Thank you.”
I have called you, Philan. I will mark you as mine. Will you answer my call?
The words reverberated through his mind and body, and he longed to answer her with a “yes.” But his hate and desire for revenge burned stronger. He shook his head and turned to head to the door to find Thaddis.
I can take your anger from you, Philan. You must not let it control you. You will need to work with Thaddis.
“No longer Tharon?” he spat out.
That was Guinheld’s doing. The change name worked as it was meant to. Now he is Thaddis again, and so must redeem his name.
“I will carve it into his forehead.”
He felt, rather than saw, the statue release a sigh.
To vanquish my old foe Ontarem has been my entire desire since my city lay in ruins.
“Then you must understand how I feel about Thaddis.”
I’ve had centuries to plan vengeance against Ontarem and free all the people of Kimtair from his dominion. But I knew I didn’t have the strength. Not all of us combined had the strength to bind Him. But Khan came from another world, followed by Jasmine, and now Sadie. Their presence has tipped the balance of Ontarem’s power in our favor just enough that we have the slightest chance to prevail.
Philan relaxed the fists he hadn’t realized he’d clenched. “You give me hope. But I’m still going to kill Thaddis.”
Philan, my called one, Thaddis is needed. He is the key to unlocking Ontarem’s vulnerability. Without that small weakness within the Evil One, we cannot prevail.
As if She’d just sucked all the blood from him, Philan’s knees weakened. Folding to the ground, he propped his elbows on his knees and brought his hands together. He pressed them against his face, shutting out the sight of the Goddess. Two forces warred within him—the burning need for revenge and the calm words of hope the Goddess offered.
Philan wrestled with himself for what seemed a long time. Then one side won the fight. The other didn’t surrender with good grace, and he was forced to temporarily imprison his desire for vengeance, promising to kill Thaddis after vanquishing Ontarem. Best not to communicate that fact to Withea. Not that he thought it would bother Her. He sensed this Goddess had a ruthless streak when it came to Ontarem, and he wondered if She’d been that way before the Evil God destroyed her city, or if bitterness and pain had changed Her character like it had changed his.
He released a long breath, dropped his hands, and stood. He swept the statue a bow. “Goddess, behold Your servant.”
The statue glowed with an inner light.
Remove all your weapons, your boots, your clothing. Step into the water.
Mesmerized, all his protests died. After stripping, Philan waded in the warm knee-high water until he reached her pedestal.
Withea’s hand moved to touch his face. The eye patch dissolved, and Her finger probed where his eye should be. Heat shot through the socket, almost enough to hurt. Lie down in the water, She commanded, releasing him.
Philan knelt in the balmy water, then leaned forward, dropping facedown and floating. His weight slowly settled to the bottom of the pool, but he seemed to have grown gills like a fish, for he never ran out of air. The temperature in his eye socket intensified, and the heat spread to scald his whole face.
As time stretched, he drifted, mindless, aware only of his body and the searing warmth on his face. Abruptly the sensation ended.
Rise, Tanmargis.
Philan obeyed, aware that his body felt renewed. He flexed his muscles, looking at his right bicep. Then he realized that he’d barely turned his head, but could clearly view his arm. Excitement and hope shot through him. “I can see!” He patted his face, wincing as he poked his newly-formed eye. In disbelief, he covered his good eye and could still see. He fingered the smooth skin on his face. The scar was gone.
A sob rumbled from deep within him and erupted as a gasp. “You’ve healed me!” His chest couldn’t contain all his gratitude. He wanted to whoop with joy, sink to his knees, and cry like a baby. He settled for mumbling, “Thank you! Oh, thank you, Goddess Withea.”
Go to Zacatlan, Tanmargis.
“Why are you calling me Tanmargis?”
Because you are now my priest.
Philan felt his eyes, both eyes, bulge in shock. But he couldn’t protest…didn’t want to protest. He was too full of gratitude for his healing. But even as he thought about it, he realized that his othersense swirled within him, more strong and powerful than before.
In Zacatlan, you must join with Thaddis in preparing for the upcoming battle. He will need your skills and your experience.
The hatred he’d carried
for so many months had ebbed, not vanished. No, never vanished, he told himself. But for the first time, Philan thought he could work with King Thaddis.
Withea must have read his mind. King no longer. Ocean’s Glory is governed by Counselor Ogan.
“I will…” He had to force out the words. “Observe a truce until Ontarem is bound and powerless.”
That will suffice.
Philan thought of the others from Seagem who carried tremendous wounds. “Will You heal the rest?” For the first time he noticed the statue’s glow had dimmed. With his words, the light within the statue flickered.
Healing takes much power, Tanmargis. Between Guinheld and I, perhaps we can spare some energy for the soldiers. But not the rest. However… She held up one hand. If we win the battle against Ontarem, if we Goddesses and Gods have any reserves within us or can restore them, then we will heal all in need.
Philan felt a weight settle around his shoulders. He’d do anything to help the people he’d come to regard as his, even if that meant playing nice with Thaddis. He had a sudden vision of a cat toying with a mouse before putting an end to the creature. I’m the cat. Not liking the idea, he dressed in silence.
Go, Tanmargis. Thaddis requires your assistance.
A different portal open, one that looked into a temple filled with people. Zacatlan?
Reluctantly, Philan eyed the throng.
Hurry! The word was accompanied by a push to his back.
Philan drew his sword, loped around the pool, and leapt through the window.
~ ~ ~
Trying to outrun her hurt and anger, Sadie sprinted up the hill to the temple. Her breath came in gasps, and her chest burned. With each stride, Ganawen’s sword in the scabbard thumped her leg. But she wouldn’t stop, couldn’t stop. She raced until she reached the courtyard and had to stop or she’d plunge into the pool.
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