The chains grew heavier, tugging her back towards the Earth. The light grew further and further away. She fought, trying to get free of the duty which kept her bound to the Earth. The tether pulled harder, calling her name. Nin-si-anna. No! She did not want to go back to that heavy place!
A sharp, sudden pain felt as though someone had just tried to tear out her heart. The darkness summoned her. She fought to be free of it, but it caught her through the tether and pulled.
"No!" she screamed. If one thing terrified her above all other things, it was the dark.
'It's not right … not right … not right … not right' the stars chittered. Their light faded and grew far away as darkness dragged her down its murky path, warning her to beware of something.
In the distance, a palace loomed out of the nothingness as large as a mountain and black as soot. She stood before a pair of enormous carved doors which opened to reveal an even blacker hall. She jutted her chin into the air. She was the Chosen of She-who-is! She was starlight. She could light her -own- way through the dark!
The entire palace hummed with power. She walked past an enormous golden chair, empty and dark. Black and white squares adorned the floor in a checkerboard pattern, each one large enough to swallow the galaxy which was displayed upon it. Ninsianna whispered a prayer to cast her light brighter, to illuminate this palace unto which she'd been summoned. Her footsteps were swallowed by the emptiness.
A terrible, dark vibration called to her from its walls and tempted her to become one with the void. A fearsome black man loomed over her, so enormous he dwarfed even his huge black throne. His face was stern, as though he had never known what it meant to smile, but his body was well-formed like a beautiful ebony statue. The power which shuddered off of him vibrated the particles of her very existence. Deadly wing-spikes rustled as he leaned forward to regard the insignificant creature he had summoned before him like the sound of Mikhail's sword scraping across a whetstone.
A distant voice whispered into her mind, the voice of She-who-is, naming the deity who had summoned her.
'-HIM-'
The hands which gripped the armrests were shaped like hers, but at the end of each finger jutted a claw not unlike those of a lion. Everything about HIM was a weapon, from the scorpion-like spike which dripped primordial nothingness to his leathery, spiked bat-wings, to the enormous horns which stabbed out of his head like the ones which had once gored Jamin. His hand moved towards her. Ninsianna realized how truly insignificant she really was.
'It's not right,' HIS voice rumbled with power.
HE touched the tether which bound her to the Earth. Velvet eyes swirled with hunger, so vast and empty it felt as though those eyes would swallow her alive. She had seen these eyes once before, but she could not remember where.
The shadows writhed around her, echoing the Dark Lord's words.
'It's not right not right not right not right' the shadows whirled around her like hungry cats. One slithered forward and coalesced around her legs. It lapped her ankles like a curious kitten.
"Get away from me!!!" She kicked the shadow which had gotten too close to the light. With a whimper, it moved back to its father and settled into his lap.
Black eyes glittered with disappointment as HE consoled his terrifying pet. The black man touched the tether which bound her to the Earth.
'How can you heal this wound if you fear the dark?'
'It's not right! It's not right! It's not right!' The shadows howled a grating cacophony.
Ninsianna covered her ears and turned, trying to escape this horrible place. She needed to find her way back into the light!
"You must heal this wound or my champion will fail," the black man's words rumbled through her with terrifying prophecy.
That stab of pain she had felt earlier returned once more. Darkness closed around her. The tether dragged her into the void like a rock tied around a measure of rope. Ninsianna clutched her chest. Pain! So much pain! She did not wish to follow him there!
Ninsianna screamed for help. "Mother!"
'Ninsianna … you must choose…'
The voice belonged neither to the black man, nor to her mistress, She-who-is. Whoever offered her the decision, Ninsianna knew there was only one answer, the one her mistress desired of her. Her hand reached down to touch the swell of her abdomen. She must protect her child!
Ninsianna ripped out the tether and watched it fall into the void. A mournful cry cut through the darkness and was silenced. Free. She was free! She ignored the pleas of the great, black man and ran away from him, he and his accursed pets! She thrust herself down the pathway she knew led back into the light of She-who-is.
A wind picked her up and carried her as though she were a leaf being carried on a stream. She drifted, unable to find the shore, her womb growing larger. She called for her husband, but when she reached for him, he was not there. At last the rustle of wings blew a gentle wind upon her hair.
"Mikhail?"
She turned to embrace him, but in his place stood a white-winged Angelic, brighter and even more beautiful than her husband, but inside her goddess-kissed eyes could see his spirit-light was contaminated with a seething hatred that turned all it touched into ash.
"Mikhail!!!" Ninsianna screamed for help.
"Nin-si-anna," the Evil One called her name, the light-featured shell he wore a mockery of the evil which dwelled within. "Take my hand and together we shall illuminate the heavens."
It was a lie! It was not -her- he sought, but the child she carried. The Evil One dragged her towards a sky canoe. It split open like an eggshell, spewing forth demons and vile, misshapen creatures that descended upon her village and razed it into the ground.
"Ninsianna?" Strong arms held her. She fought them, pounding against warm flesh and the softness of feathers.
The Evil One's face morphed into countless horrors. He leaned her back upon a sacrificial alter and pulled a blade. Ancient symbols burned along its length, so ancient that even her gift of tongues could not translate them. Ninsianna screamed as he splayed open her abdomen and stole her son from her womb.
"No!" she screamed, reaching for her child.
"Ninsianna, wake up!"
Her son cried in terror as the Evil One devoured him alive. The Earth burned as the Evil One razed it into dust. One by one, the stars which had sung to her began to die.
"Ninsianna!" The warmth of his torso pressed against hers finally pulled her out of the vision. Blue eyes, more brilliant that the desert sky, stared into her brown ones, clouded with worry.
Her heart galloping so fast it felt as though she were running in the midst of a herd of stampeding auroch, Ninsianna burst into tears. Their child! Each night the Evil One stole their child! Mikhail caressed her hair and kissed her forehead until her sobs turned into silent shudders and her tears lessened into hiccoughs.
"Your dreams grow worse, mo ghrá," Mikhail took one finger and pulled a strand of hair out of her mouth. "It worries me when I cannot pull you out of your vision."
Ninsianna shivered. The dream had become more urgent, as though something had changed to bring the Evil One closer. Her hands found their way down to her still-flat abdomen. Whenever the Evil One came in the dream, she was always heavy with child. They still had time.
"I tried to fight him," she said. "But it wasn't enough. You must finish teaching our people to fight."
"You saw more this time?" he asked.
She traced those features she had fallen in love with, her beautiful Angelic who had fallen from the sky.
"There was a black man this time." Ninsianna shuddered at the memory, willing it to go away. Oh! How she hated the dark!
"What did this black man do?" Mikhail asked.
"Oh, Mikhail! It was awful! I don't know who scared me more! The black man? Or the Evil One!" The darkness had already faded, leaving only the memory of his bottomless black eyes and how horrifying it had felt to be swallowed by the void. "When the demons come, they shall raze our vi
llage to the ground."
"You know I won't let that happen." Mikhail pulled her against his chest, one dark wing trembling as he moved it to cover her and share his warmth. "Even now we band together to fight them."
She stared into those unearthly blue eyes, so blue they shone bright against the darkness. Each night she called for her husband, and each night he did not come. Why would Mikhail not come to save her? Where were the armies he trained? The allies he banded together to stand at their back and fight this Evil One? Was it all for naught?
No! She-who-is would not keep giving her this vision if there something could not be done to change it! He was HER champion, and she appointed the Chosen One to give HER will a voice to help him lead the way. Perhaps that's what the black man meant? Pushing Mikhail to work harder would not solve the problem. She must become more powerful as well.
Her lips trembled as she understood what she must do. Mama would not approve of her learning this gift, but Papa knew. She would prevail upon him to teach her how to see into the dark.
* * * * *
She staggered in from the sun, her skin clammy despite the lingering, late-autumn heat. Although she made a brave show of hiding the morning sickness, truth was she felt woozy morning, noon-and night. Oh, why hadn't she thought of this before she'd gone and conceived Mikhail's child? Was this why Mama had only ever birthed just her? She dropped the basket of laundry she'd spent the past hour scrubbing in the river and sank down onto a bench.
"You are late," Papa scolded her. His prayer mat and the instruments of his trade were already scattered around him. This was the lesson before the lesson, the one neither one of them wanted Mama to know about or Papa would be in trouble for sure. And here she'd gone and mucked it up by getting home late. If Mama got home early…
She gave him a look that was a combination of sheepish admission and 'help!' If Papa knew she'd almost fainted, he'd make Mikhail quarantine her to the house. With not only She-who-is intruding into her dreams, but now also He-who's-not, the last thing she wanted was her overprotective husband hovering over her like some big, dark-winged broody hen.
"Oh, child," Papa sighed. "Your husband will be back from his labors and expecting supper within the hour, and then it will be time to train the archers. It does not leave us much time to expand your mind."
"I'm sorry," Ninsianna wiped her brow, wishing fervently she'd stopped at the well to draw a bucket of fresh water. "I didn't sleep well last night. Everything has gotten behind itself today."
"You must pace yourself to accommodate the strain your child places upon your body," Papa's cross look disappeared. "Have you asked your Mama for a tea?"
"The last time I asked Mama for help settling my stomach," Ninsianna said, "she scolded Mikhail for letting me train the archers. I need him to train the villagers, Papa! Not wait on me hand and foot!"
Papa laughed.
"You should let him do more for you," Papa said. "He wants to do more for you. I wouldn't let your mother lift a pinky finger when she was carrying you."
Remnants of last night's vision shuddered through her brain, a rude reminder that Mikhail had only been loaned to her as a favor while he completed the goddess's great mission. Her face must have betrayed her horror, because when she opened her eyes, Papa stood before her, his grey-streaked dark hair and bushy eyebrows sticking out all over the place as though he were a holy man who lived in a cave.
"Ninsianna," Papa's face was filled with concern. "Is everything all right between you two?"
"I must not distract him from his mission," Ninsianna smiled weakly. "The dreams become more urgent. I don't know how much longer we have until the Evil One arrives."
Papa guided her to sit upon the felted wool carpet he rolled out whenever he did a shamanic journey. Bowls were already set out in the four directions. Today he used an arrowhead to denote the east, some borage the south, a bowl of water the west, and tubers in the north, symbols of the four elements. Most shamans invoked the elements to help them perform their magic, but in Ninsianna's case, the ritual simply helped her focus her energies. In the middle of the carpet sat a woven reed cage containing a small, black mouse.
"When the Evil One arrives," Papa said. "Mikhail will stay and help us fight. You know he will."
Her heart rate increased, reminding her of the goddess's urgency. Her hand slid down to touch her abdomen, only the thickening of her waist and engorged breasts betraying the child which grew within. No one outside of this family, with the exception of the Chief, knew her prophecy showed the Evil One would be one of Mikhail's own people, not just the lizard demons who would accompany him when he came to raze their village.
Perhaps it was time she confided in her Papa what the real problem was? How could he guide her if she did not tell him the truth?
"Every night when I call for Mikhail to save me from the Evil One," Ninsianna cried out with dismay, " he does not come! Why would my own husband not come to save me?"
Papa gave her a hug. She felt as though she was living on borrowed time.
"I have searched the dreamtime for HER purpose, child," Papa told her. "But it feels as though I stare at a great, dark wall."
"What does it mean?"
"It means when you come to that crossroads," Papa said, "there will be some sort of terrible choice."
'You must choose…'
The whisper of the vision came back to her. Whoever spoke those words, it was not She-who-is.
"What kind of choice?"
"I don't know," Papa said. He held her hand the way he had when she'd been a frightened little girl. "When the goddess hides the future, it usually means there will be no good choices. Only bad ones."
Ninsianna touched her belly, able to sense the glow of light even though her child had not yet quickened. She could feel this life which grew within her own, so bright she suspected her son's light would one day dwarf her own. The feeling of having won a large wager surged through her veins, lifting the wooziness which had clung to her the moment she had stood upright this morning and stepped away from the shelter of her husband's wings. Her child. Whatever else happened, the goddess wanted her to protect this child.
Words welled to her throat that were not her own.
"It means, son of Lugalbanda, that you must teach your daughter the lessons you abandoned so she is not handicapped by what you, yourself, refused to learn."
Papa, her Papa who she loved more than anyone in the world, looked as though he'd been struck, made worse by the spirit-light he swirled around his heart to protect it from She-who-is. Papa loved the goddess, but he loved her Mama more.
Lugalbanda had been her grandfather, reportedly the most powerful shaman the Ubaid had ever seen, though he had died shortly after Ninsianna had been born. It was said he was so powerful he could stop the heart of his enemies with a single thought, but it was also said that his power had cost him his wife. Papa was a powerful shaman, but sometimes the village elders whispered he wasn't as good as Lugalbanda had been because, at some point, Papa had refused to keep paying the user-price.
"I'm sorry," Ninsianna said. "That wasn't me."
"I know." Papa's hand shook as he picked up his rattles. "I had a choice to make, and it wasn't HER." The glint in Papa's eyes indicated whatever his choice had been, he did not regret it. "All I can do I is make sure my life choices don't leave you too weak to fight this enemy the goddess foresees will come."
She would never let the goddess down thus! If the Evil One intended to cut it her child out of her womb, then she would make sure Mikhail trained her people so that it was not just him who stood between them and the destruction she foresaw, but an entire army! She took a deep breath and steadied her resolve. Dark magic. This was not a lesson she wished to learn, but the black man had indicated she must.
"What lesson do you wish to teach me today?"
Papa pointed to the mouse.
"Today I will teach you how to reach into the mind of another and make them obey you."
"Obey … me?" Ninsianna laughed. "Why would anybody want to obey me?"
Papa's eyes crinkled in a bemused expression that made his eyebrows look even bushier. "If you made people any more willing to obey you, they'd line up before the house each morning to perform a dance for you."
"I don't make people obey me!" Ninsianna huffed, insulted at the insinuation she was a sorceress. She always followed the light! Not the kinds of dark magic whispered about by frightened villagers. The kind that required animal hearts, sacrificed children and blood.
"You don't intentionally make people obey you," Papa laughed, "but you get your way every single time. Even with me, who knows what you are up to."
"I do not!"
Papa shot her that same patient smile he had given when she'd been a little girl, always earning Mama's displeasure because she'd chased a pretty butterfly or sat down to share some little boy's honey-cake rather than help her Mama grind the einkorn. Everyone else understood why the butterfly was more important, but not her Mama!
"Any time you influence someone to do something without first giving them the choice," Papa said, "you dabble in the forbidden arts. Magic comes with a user-price. It is your intent which decides whether that price will be a benevolent one, some benefit which comes to both you and the person you influenced, or results in some cause of action set in motion that you may not have foreseen."
Papa pointed to the mouse.
"The highest level of making your quarry obey you is to intuit their deepest desire and guide them towards it," Papa said. "That is an ability you inherited from your Mama, which is why she is immune to your gift. But now I must teach you to compel creatures to do what they do not want to do because it is contrary to their interests, or their deepest desire compels them to act against you, such as hatred, anger, or fear."
"But isn't compelling others always wrong?" Ninsianna asked.
Sword of the Gods: Prince of Tyre (Sword of the Gods Saga) Page 38