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War of the Raven Queen: The Goddess Prophecies Fantasy Series Book 6

Page 19

by Araya Evermore


  Issa nodded and lay down on the grass.

  When she awoke, it was night and the swamp beyond their dwindling torch pitch black.

  She looked at Ekem. The Saurian sat on his muscular haunches completely still as a statue, not even his huge, dilated eyes blinked. The night was filled with the sound of frogs warbling and the splash of fish jumping. Ata slept curled up on his side, hugging his tail that reached to his nose. She couldn’t feel Maggot’s presence and even Ehka was absent, probably out terrorising frogs, she thought.

  Issa tried closing her eyes again but all she could see was her mother’s lifeless face and still form. Giving up on sleep, she quietly walked down the hill to the water’s edge where a large toad jumped out of her way with a disgruntled croak.

  She squatted down, cupped her hands into the cool water and splashed it on her face. If only there was a bath… She’d build a house with her father and make sure it had a wetroom. She already missed him. At least he’ll be safe in the swamp, she hoped.

  She sat down cross-legged and drew out her raven talisman. Light shimmered across its surface as she stilled her mind and thought of Asaph.

  The swamp quietened with her mind, the waters becoming so perfectly still there was not even a ripple as they reflected the reeds above. A beautiful, perfect, serene world.

  Issa took a deep breath and a warm breeze blew, lifting her hair from her shoulders, but it did not touch the surface of the water. How strange, Issa thought. She heard a voice, soft and low, coming from somewhere. Her ears pricked, and her hand went to her sword, but she felt that was silly, rude even. The voice spoke again, a man’s voice carried on the wind. She didn’t understand the words, but the voice was filled with the wisdom and power of the natural world. In her mind she saw giant trees, a world of moss and ivy and earth so real she could smell the moist, dark soil. I am the wisdom of the Wild Wood, the voice seemed to say. She longed to hear the voice speak again.

  A hazy golden light gathered before her, hanging above the surface of the still water. Her hand slipped off her sword hilt and she put away her talisman. The light expanded into a six-foot-wide circle and opened into another realm, a realm of ancient, giant trees and moss and ivy. The deep voice came from within it, calling to her with sound more ancient than language, more sophisticated than words, and wholly male, making her think of her father, her grandfather, and all her male ancestors. The voice spoke of nothing but love, wisdom, and protection.

  Issa got up and walked towards the opening. In the hazy forest within, something moved in the trees, as large as a tree. Emerging from the oak trees, great antlers spread high into the air. Letting go of her breath, Issa stepped into the other realm.

  Warmth and diffuse golden and emerald light replaced the cool damp of the night swamp. Song birds fluttered between ancient boughs and deer moved unhurried and graceful through the glade. Tiny white flowers swayed between tall grasses and the tinkling of a river could be heard.

  A huge figure loomed in the trees, less solid than the world around it. The bright light coming from behind it, cast it in shadow. Issa blinked and marvelled at the enormous antlers as the figure stepped towards her and took solid form.

  Muscles rippled across his arms and chest and soft brown hair grew from his waist downwards, reminding her of the Karalanths—but this was no deer-man. Heat rose in her cheeks as she saw he was naked but then she felt more embarrassed herself for being clothed. They weren’t born with clothes, clothes were unnatural if worn to conceal, so her thoughts flowed in this place. The being did not have legs as such, his rippling thighs became solid wood, like tree trunks, and his feet were flowing roots that twisted and turned with each step.

  Powerful energy flowed from this being, like that which flowed from Zanufey, only different. This being’s power was one of raw physical strength, of confidence and bravery, of protection and assertiveness, of loyalty and fortitude. Male energy, she thought. The hairs on her arms rose and fell, and she understood a little of what the seers had said. Masculine energy is light and electrical in nature, like the lightning in storms. It pushes out from the One Light, seeking, exploring, creating. Female energy is sound and magnetics, like the thunder in storms and it returns to the One Light, creating the pathway back to the Source of All.

  Issa stared in awe up at the being and understood that she gazed upon the Guardian of Maioria. She thought about kneeling and bowing her head, but unspoken words told her this would be inappropriate. Instead she stared up with her mouth hanging open. Now she could see his face, she saw it kept changing. Sometimes it was a man with incredible eyes whose colours kept shifting. Other times, it was a bear’s or an eagle’s or a deer’s or any type of forest animal.

  ‘Doon,’ she breathed.

  Maioria’s male guardian held out an enormous hand towards her. When she touched it he either began to shrink, or she grew. Images, thoughts and words flooded into her mind, too fast to process and understand. The forest around them faded into golden light.

  She looked up at Doon. He was still large but not impossibly so. His face no longer changed, and he was indescribably handsome in a way in which Zanufey was beautiful, though the guardian deities were beyond these qualities.

  ‘Raven Queen,’ he said. There was music in his voice and it made her think of her father. She looked at him again and saw Thanon. There were even green tattoos upon Doon’s body though the tattoos moved. She blinked and now she saw Coronos' familiar features, the only man she’d thought of as her grandfather. Doon was all things. Doon was father, brother, lover, all. Things were different in the calm of spirit.

  He spoke in words deep and rich and nourishing, she could listen to him speak forever. ‘You have the power to see and understand.’

  Issa shook her head. ‘To see and understand what?’

  But he didn’t reply and instead took her hand in a warm, strong grasp and led her into the golden light. They descended, and the light became thicker, darker and colder. She shivered. Death and mortality hung in the air, sharply contrasted to the world of light and life they had just left. Even Doon by her side was greyer, his face ashen and aged. She looked at her hands and gasped. They were mottled with age spots and wrinkles.

  ‘Do not fear what you will see,’ said Doon. His beautiful voice still strong and reassuring yet filled with sadness—sadness that no guardian should have. If a guardian was sad it spoke of hopelessness. If a guardian was hopeless, what was she?

  The scenery became all shades of grey and black, like the Shadowlands only there were no trees or ghosts or objects of any kind. There were only grey and black somethings.

  Her breath was a cold cloud in front of her face and in the distance, a white shape appeared. Doon gripped her hand a little tighter. As they neared she saw the shape was a giant statue, a female figure prone, her body swathed in white cloth. Entwining around her marble body were thick, black vines. Issa stared at the woman’s face and the whole scene reminded her of her mother lying there dead, trapped in a world she could not leave.

  Fear clasped cold hands around her heart and Issa drew back, not wanting to see or go further. Doon looked down at her, his eyes green emeralds, all faceted and shining, the only colour in this place.

  ‘Yes,’ he breathed to her unspoken questions. ‘They are bound by the same thing.’

  Issa dropped her eyes trying to understand. She let him draw her onwards and knelt before the statue as he did. A guardian kneeling…it made her heart race. The thick ugly vines had thorns that cut into the figure. They wound around her neck and over her head, barely leaving her face revealed.

  Issa swallowed and trembled as she stared at the statue’s face. The woman looked uncannily like her mother. ‘It cannot be,’ she breathed.

  The woman gripped an arrow in one hand, and the other, hanging over the side of her stone bed, held a bow. The bow was broken.

  Issa touched an ugly vine wrapped around her wrist and jumped. It moved and hissed, tightening around the woman like a
snake.

  ‘Who is it? Who is the statue of? Those things are alive! What are they?’

  Doon did not look at her but instead reached a giant hand to stroke the statue’s face. The motion was so tender and loving, Issa swallowed, then her eyes widened for where his hand touched, the cold marble became peach, her lips turned pink and her eyelashes long and black.

  Issa could barely breathe as the woman’s face came to life. ‘Why does she look like my mother? Where are we?’

  Doon looked at her, his eye’s gleaming amber. He spoke to her like Zanufey, with direct cognition.

  ‘She is that which is female in all things,’ Doon said without speaking. ‘All are bound to her.’

  ‘The Orb of Life is bound to her,’ Issa spoke aloud the understanding flooding into her.

  Doon spoke again. ‘When the darkness came from the Dark Rift, so did death and the fall of the female power, that which sustains and nourishes. That which gives life. When the Ancients split the magic and the Orb of Life was taken, Woetala fell into darkness.’

  ‘If we take the orb back, she will be free? Will my mother be free also? But where is this place?’ Issa asked breathlessly.

  Doon spoke aloud. ‘The life force of all things draws into the Dark Rift. This is a place between Maioria and the rift. Soon, all will pass through it.’

  Unfathomable sadness descended upon Issa and she wanted to run from this place. In the distance something drummed.

  ‘I’ll get the orb. We’ll get them all back.’ Issa wrung her hands.

  ‘Time is short,’ said Doon, rising to his full height. ‘The last of the Ancients are falling. That which was done can only be undone by those who did it.’

  ‘Only they can combine the orbs?’ Issa asked.

  ‘If they do not do this soon, Maioria’s magic will be forever broken,’ said Doon.

  Something screamed in the darkness far away. Issa’s heart began to pound, and Doon looked into the black.

  ‘What is that?’ asked Issa.

  ‘That which you fear most,’ said Doon, turning his gaze upon her.

  The drumming grew louder. Not drums, but hooves!

  ‘The horsemen? The Light Eaters? I cannot fight them, any of them!’ she drew her sword uselessly, horror clenching her stomach.

  ‘One day you must,’ Doon said.

  ‘How? How can I possibly fight them!’ Issa shouted over the growing thunder. A blood-red light grew in the blackness.

  ‘You must enter the darkness and make your stand,’ Doon said. ‘Until that time, you must run.’

  A giant raven landed on Doon’s shoulder. It stared at her, cawed noisily, then spread its wings and flew over her head.

  ‘Until then, run Raven Queen. Follow the raven.’

  A horse screamed and something not human howled. Issa turned and ran after the giant raven. What about Doon? She couldn’t stop to think about the guardian, all she knew was to run. Black wings fluttered ahead and beyond them an orb of light, within the light, a torchlit swamp. Increasing her pace, she threw herself into it.

  17

  Fear of the Dark

  Asaph scanned the endless swamps.

  His excellent dragon eyesight searching the layers of water between clumps of swamp trees, tall reeds, swarms of flies and flocks of long-necked birds. Cloaked in dragon magic and invisible to all, he was still wary of the enemy. Harpies lived here, and they could also hide their presence with magic. Every time he saw a crocodile he grimaced for Issa’s safety, it wasn’t just the undead and those in league with Baelthrom who were a threat.

  In the Flow, he hunted for the flame ring on Issa’s finger. There, to the west, came the faintest pull, just enough for him to angle his wings towards the setting sun.

  He spotted movement amongst the reeds. A bird squawked and Ehka darted in front of him, his black feathers glinting gold in the sunset. Though Asaph was cloaked, the clever bird had detected his presence.

  He followed the bird and slowed before a strange sight. Talking to two giant, upright lizards on a patch of grass, was Issa dressed in her Dread Dragon armour. He blinked at his distant lizard cousins who clearly meant her no harm.

  She’s made friends with Saurians? Relief washed over him.

  The Saurians paused to sniff the air and Issa scanned the skies. With a deep chuckle Asaph hovered, dropped his magic cloak and revealed himself, the waving reeds and billowing wind already announcing his presence. The Saurians hissed and howled and bounded away. Issa turned pale and sunk to her knees. Asaph abruptly stopped laughing and dropped himself into the swamp with a splash.

  He let go of his dragon form and strode towards Issa. This seemed to dissipate the dragon fear and she stood up. A nervous smile spread across her face and then she was running into his arms. He swept her up.

  ‘Asaph, thank the goddess. I found him, I’ve found my father!’

  ‘How? Where? What happened? Where have you been? How did you get here? I’ve been worried sick about you.’ He hugged her tight.

  Issa stared up at the handsome, fair-haired man with gleaming blue eyes.

  ‘And I you! So much has happened,’ Issa rushed on. ‘I went to the Wizards’ Circle, and Yisufalni and I combined the orbs. Asaph, it was amazing. But then Freydel came and he was…he was furious.’ Issa rushed on. She remembered Ayeth and the memory sent her heart racing.

  ‘I saw him, Asaph. I saw Ayeth—beautiful, powerful, regal—everything Freydel said he was. But I realised I could never kill him, or any innocent being.’

  She drew away from Asaph and stared at the ground, emotions conflicting. ‘Freydel’s translocation alerted Baelthrom. He came, Asaph, Baelthrom physically arrived. I’ve never seen anything so terrifying, so… He was huge, grotesque and the power he wielded… He destroyed the Wizards’ Circle and I couldn’t do anything! My power was nothing.

  ‘But then something incredible happened. For a moment, for one brief moment, Ayeth and Baelthrom stood there before me, both in the same time and place. How is that possible if they are the same being? I don’t understand it. Then Baelthrom attacked and I tried to fight back but I couldn’t. Light and dark magic struck me and then I was falling.’

  Asaph listened, his eyes wide as Issa explained all. When she spoke about Morhork, he frowned. ‘Gone there to kill a wizard and take an orb’ Asaph echoed.

  Issa nodded. ‘But in the end, he saved my life and brought me here. You see, when he tried to take the Orb of Earth, his human form was forced into his dragon form and he said all forgotten memories returned to him. It’s a long story but he remembered old gossip from long ago about a musicman and a seer living with Saurians. He brought me here, safe from Baelthrom, and to where my father might be. And he is here, Asaph.’

  Her eyes misted over, and she paused to catch her breath. She hadn’t even mentioned her mother yet, but even thinking about her brought a lump to her throat. In the corner of her eye she saw Ekem and Ata peering through the reeds.

  ‘I’m so pleased you found your father, Issa, after all the years you’ve spent without one,’ said Asaph. ‘I cannot imagine having lived without Coronos, even though he wasn’t my blood father.

  ‘Other things have happened too, back at the camp.’ His voice softened, and he looked pained. ‘Drumblodd is gone, and the Orb of Fire lost.’

  Issa inhaled sharply and steadied herself on his arm. ‘No.’ She shook her head. Another orb lost? It couldn’t be. ‘Baelthrom was with us, not you.’

  Asaph smoothed back his hair and looked into the middle distance as he recalled events. ‘The Dark Rift and the Under Flow came into our midst. We ran to Drumblodd’s tent, Haelgon, Luren, Naksu, me—all of us—but we were too late. There was a black vortex, an evil bloody hole, opening right into his tent! A whole passage to another dimension ripped into our reality. The one you told me about was there, the alien woman with the black eyes.’

  ‘Lona,’ Issa gasped, and looked up into his eyes. ‘Lona the Yurgha.’

  Asaph n
odded sombrely.

  The Saurians emerged fully out of the reeds. They kept their distance and stood silent several paces behind Asaph, silently watching and listening.

  Issa tried to make sense of what Asaph had said. ‘It all happened at the same time; Baelthrom, Ayeth, Freydel, the Wizards’ Circle, Lona and the orb. And, oh Great Goddess, Yisufalni!’ Surely she got away, surely Murlonius had come for her. She could easily evade anything in the Ethereal Planes. But nothing can escape the four horsemen, they go where they will!

  ‘Listen,’ said Asaph, taking her fingers out of her mouth when she began chewing them. ‘We can do nothing about what has happened, there’s so much happening, we must protect ourselves and return to the others. There’s also unconfirmed news of a massive invasion into Lans Himay with Draxians being targeted.’

  Issa inhaled sharply. ‘By Baelthrom?’

  ‘Yes. We must formulate new plans. Whilst you’ve been gone, the armies of the Free Peoples have pushed towards Diredrull. As we speak, border strongholds are being attacked. If we’re lucky the city will fall to us.

  ‘I never knew dwarves had such strength and ferocity within them. They fight for their ancient homeland with little rest and great drive. Only the Karalanths match their bravery and stamina. There’s even a new respect growing between the two. After everything, who’d have thought Karalanth’s and dwarves would ever fight on the same side again?’

  The thought brought a little warmth to the cold that chilled her bones.

  Asaph looked into the distance. ‘But something calls me away from these battles. My place is in the North, fighting for Drax—and it absolutely cannot wait. If Baelthrom really is killing Draxians, he’s doing it to quell the uprising. He knows I’ll rally them and invade Drax—and I must do it now.’

  Issa thought about what he said. Was their place really on the battlefield beside the Feylint Halanoi? It didn’t feel like it. The leaders could always use their magic, but who was going to take the fight directly to Baelthrom? ‘You’re right, I don’t think my place is here either. I was the catalyst to get things moving, the inspiration behind it. Now our destinies call us elsewhere, where we are needed most. Besides, by striking other places, we can distract Baelthrom’s attention from our take-over of Venosia.’

 

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