Sower of Dreams (The Gods' Dream Trilogy)

by Debra Holland

  Then blue energy from another direction swirled to join with hers. Khan’s help.

  Thaddis yelled, dropping his hand, but not losing his hold on his pendant.

  Taking advantage of Khan’s lapse of concentration, his opponent stepped forward on his good leg, raising his sword.

  Khan, look out! She screamed through her othersense.

  He leaped backward, but tripped over a corpse, falling to the ground.

  The soldier lifted his weapon over his head in a two-handed grip.

  Khan rolled away, trying to escape his pursuer. At the same time, he threw his energy at Thaddis’s pendant.

  Daria joined with him, but even with their increased efforts, they couldn’t break the evil curse of the medallion. And if Khan continued his concentration, in only seconds he’d be murdered.

  Goddess, help us, Daria pleaded. Please. I know I’ve turned my back on You. But please, at least, save Khan.

  A burst of orange light sparked in the soldier’s face, blinding him. He cried out, raising an arm to screen his eyes, his body freezing, statue-still.

  A second amber flash curled around the entwined energy of their othersense. The silver-and-blue power braided with amber, exploding the medallion.

  Thaddis screamed shrill and long, dropping his sword.

  With her othersense, Daria could see the tricolored energy drill up his arm to his head, burning away the evil gray miasma twisted throughout his brain.

  His body spasmed, as if undergoing a seizure. Under the lash of power, Thaddis’s strong muscles withered, and his bright auburn hair bleached to white.

  When her bonds melted, Daria raised her sword, preparing to strike, but the invisible hand of the Goddess stopped her.

  Look my daughter and truly see him.

  Daria studied her enemy. The feral look had vanished from Thaddis’s face, replaced by the vacant features of a senile old man. His body had atrophied and aged to only a husk of his former self, and no evil energy emanated from him. His puckered lips opened; drool trickled down the side of his mouth. He’d aged sixty years in minutes.

  Daria released her breath in a long shuddering sigh.

  We’ve won!

  ~ ~ ~

  Ignoring the carnage around them, Khan grabbed Daria in a tight embrace, kissing her with a fierceness born from having danced with death on the edge of a sword blade and survived. No more enemies, no more killing.

  Slipping a hand around his neck, Daria returned his kisses.

  He could feel her opening her heart and soul to him like a flower unfolding to the warmth of the sun. His othersense reached out and joined with hers, a connection more intimate than he’d ever dreamed possible.

  Daria trailed her fingers across his jaw. “We’ve done it, Khan. We’ve survived!”

  He turned his head to kiss her fingers. “We have indeed.”

  A movement from the wounded warrior brought Khan back to an awareness of their surroundings, but he couldn’t resist one more quick brush of his lips across Daria’s. When he pulled back, his gaze fell upon the bloody slashes on the side of her neck, and a pulse of fear shivered through him. “You’re still bleeding. We have to get you to the shrine.”

  In his mind, the Goddess laughed. You’re my Tanmargis, Khan, she said, her voice warm with approval. The true heir to my land. Call upon Me.

  “Will you heal her?”

  Amber light with green flickers pulsed around Daria’s neck in a collar of transforming energy. Before his eyes, her wounds closed up.

  The Goddess’s light blinked out. But a glow kindled within him. Gratitude? Yes. Oh, definitely gratitude, a falling to his knees, dancing for joy, being quiet in prayer, kind of gratitude. He sent the Lady the feelings in his heart, too full of emotion to voice them.

  With a gentle finger, he touched the unscarred skin the Goddess had restored. “Seeing Thaddis hold that sword to your throat took forty years off my life,” he said. He ran his other hand through his hair. “I bet I’m completely gray.”

  She brushed a lock from his forehead. “Nary a bit.”

  He caught her hand, bringing her palm to his lips, then leaned over and kissed her neck. “There. All better.”

  She laughed. “The final touch.” Her features sobered. “I have so much to thank the Goddess for.”

  He ran his finger over her lips. “She knows.”

  “We’d better….”

  “Yes.” He took her hand, looking around, really seeing for the first time the toll they’d taken on the enemy. Dead bodies sprawled in the sand, the bloody wounds already attracting biter flies. Loose horses wandered aimlessly. A brown mare nuzzled the silent face of her rider.

  He swallowed down a feeling of regret. What a waste of life. He remembered the feeling of killing. His stomach tightened, and a sour taste rose in his mouth. He hoped he’d never again have to raise a weapon to a fellow human.

  Both monkey-bats let out a joyous screech, Khan held out an arm.

  Shad pointed a tail at him.

  Khan smiled. “Come on, old boy.”

  Shad landed, scrambling up Khan’s arm to cling to his shoulder. Tails fluttered in a happy dance.

  Shir hovered in front of Daria. The smaller monkey-bat echoed Shad’s tail movement, only this time pointing toward Daria.

  Daria winked at Khan. “I think I’m being rewarded with Shir’s trust.” She fisted her hand, extending her arm.

  Shir landed. Chittering and scolding, she crawled to perch next to Daria’s head.

  Daria reached up and stroked the moneky-bat’s head. “I think she just gave me strict instructions on taking care of her.”

  Khan wished they could just ignore the rest of their responsibilities and play with the monkey-bats. But the remainder of their duties needed to be taken care of.

  The one wounded fighter remained standing statue-still with an arm covering his eyes, his sword dropped into the dirt by his boots. Blood streamed from his cut hamstring, dripping down his leg, shining wet against the black of his trousers.

  Amber light blinked in front of his face. This time, green sparks blazed in their midst.

  Startled, the soldier lowered his arm, gazing around with the look of one emerging from a trance. When the man saw his master, he started to hobble toward him, only to realize Thaddis’s flaccid features lacked any sign of intelligence, while his body showed the soft muscles and stooped posture of an elderly man.

  A look of horror crossed his harsh face. He glanced at Khan and Daria. His gray eyes widened in fear, and he shuffled backward.

  Something needed to be done about his wound. “Wait.” Khan held up his palm. “We won’t hurt you.”

  The man gaze skittered away from Khan. He inclined his head toward Daria, keeping his eyes lowered. “Princess, I am your prisoner.”

  Princess? Thaddis had also called her a princess. The realization burst on him. Suddenly, he understood why Thaddis had been after Daria…how the man had the resources to wage war against Seagem. With her family dead, she would have a royal duty to return to her homeland and rule. A shiver of fear ran through him, and the hope that Daria would stay with him drained onto the sand at his feet.

  Daria stepped forward. “What is your name?”

  “Boerk, Your Highness.”

  “Boerk, you’re not a prisoner, but I do order you to take him—” she indicated Thaddis with a toss of her chin “—back to Ocean’s Glory. I’m sure when the people see his condition, they will take steps to find a new ruler.”

  Khan didn’t completely trust the man. Surely, he wouldn’t be motivated to continue Thaddis’s evil quest. However, Daria was a princess and would have hostage value. Boerk must realize he was alone, and his ruler had been reduced to a shell of himself.

  But just in case the soldier tried anything, Khan held himself in readiness, his hand hovering near the curved knife tucked in his belt.

  Boerk raised his head. He took a step toward Thaddis and grimaced in pain. “I don’t think I’m in an
y condition to travel, your highness.”

  At the man’s words, Khan relaxed. He walked closer, examining the wound. “We know someone who can fix that.”

  Daria touched her throat. “Our—” she glanced at Khan and smiled “—Goddess.” Looking back at Boerk, she ran her fingers over the unflawed skin of her neck. “I’m sure if you call upon Her for aid, She will heal you.”

  Boerk glanced at Daria’s neck. His gray eyes widened when he saw no trace of her wounds. He swallowed. “What do ya want me to do? By what name do I call Her?”

  Daria raised an eyebrow toward Khan.

  Her name? Never occurred to him to ask. He was Her Tanmargis and didn’t even know Her name. He’d have to remedy that lapse as soon as he had a few moments. “Keep things simple,” Khan said. “Just say, ‘Goddess, please heal me.’”

  “That’s all?”

  Khan shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out.”

  Boerk shifted his weight nervously and scrunched his face in pain. The hurt seemed to act as a spur. “Merciful Goddess,” he intoned. “Please grant this undeserving one the grace of Your healing.”

  So much for simple, Khan thought. He sounds like a preacher on American television.

  An amber balloon of light popped into existence in front of Boerk. Green sparkles swirled through the sphere, darting out to touch the man’s face. He gasped and flinched back, but the luminescent ball moved faster, streaking behind him. The amber-green rays beamed into the man’s leg, penetrating deeply to heal the severed tendons, then mending the muscle, and knitting the skin together until no trace of the wound appeared. Even the bloodstains disappeared.

  Awe transfigured Boerk’s harsh-featured face into something approaching innocence.

  Khan relaxed his ready stance. The purity of the soldier’s formerly hardened countenance was a greater miracle than healing the physical wound in his leg.

  Boerk fell to his knees, lifting up his arms in adoration to the power of the Goddess. “I thank You, Merciful Goddess. In gratitude for Your benevolence, I pledge my life to Your will.”

  Khan almost believed the transformation might come to pass, the man looked so carried away.

  Another soft laugh from the Goddess echoed through Khan’s mind, and from the expression on Boerk’s face, the man heard her too.

  In the next moment, the Goddess sent a message to the warrior that they all received: Go. Tanmargis Boerk. Take Thaddis home. Let the people see the consequences of evil. Live a life of peace.

  With a feeling of relief, Khan realized he’d no longer be Withea’s only Tanmargis. He wondered what that meant for the future.

  Boerk jumped to his feet. “It will be as Ya’ve ordered, Merciful Goddess.” He looked at Khan and Daria. “What about Pasinae?”

  Her power is temporarily depleted. She will flee to her country.

  Boerk spat into the sand. “Good riddance. Things started changin’ for the worse when the king brought home that witch.” A brown horse stepped close, nudging the man’s shoulder. He absently patted the dusty neck. “Will you allow us horses?”

  Khan strode to the golden horse, running his hands over its dusty neck and sides, inspecting the wound on the muscular flank. The slash was deep enough to concern him, and he thought they’d take the horse when they went to the shrine. Drinking and washing in the healing waters might help the stallion’s condition. “Not this one. Take your own mount. One for Thaddis, and one to use as a packhorse. You may take the supplies you need for your journey. Leave the rest. But first, you need to help us build a funeral pyre.”

  “Yes, m’lord. It shall be done.”

  “I’m not a lord.” Khan said. “But see to it, will you?”

  Boerk moved to obey.

  Khan knew he had to join Boerk in his work, but he glanced over to the head of Iceros half buried in the sand next to the dead man who’d carried the pole. First, there was a more difficult job to take care of.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  As Boerk gathered provisions and horses, Daria looked around the ruined walls of their trap, and then up at the barricade from which she’d killed several men. She sighed and shuddered at the memory. Too much death. Maybe now there’d finally be an end.

  With lagging footsteps, Daria approached her father’s severed head. Thaddis’s gruesome trophy lay unmoved from where she’d last seen it.

  She sensed Khan’s presence behind her, but he did not try to keep her from her grim task.

  Daria blinked, hoping to see the vision of her father’s living face imposed upon the gruesome remains. Father. Father, can you hear me?

  A breeze stirred, whispering across her face in a gentle touch, carrying a hint of spicy ectan scent.

  Moisture sprang to her eyes, blurring her sight. Kneeling, she reached for the pole with a trembling hand, picking it up and bringing Iceros’s face level with hers. Through her tears, the features seemed to change, the empty eye-sockets glowing green, finally looking familiar. Find Yadarius, Daughter.

  Why, Father? He abandoned us.

  No. Seek the truth. Her father’s eyes filled with love. Again the beeeze feathered her cheek. A kiss?

  Daria waited, but he spoke no more. She wanted to reach out again with her othersense, feel the warmth of her father’s love, but she really didn’t need that tangible reminder of his presence, did she? The remembrance of his love lodged in her heart, and that memory would stay with her always.

  Amber-green light sent from the Goddess glowed at the bottom of the pole, ribboning up the wood until it reached Iceros’s bearded chin.

  Daria gasped. The illumination haloed around his head. Then with a poof, the remains and staff dusted into a tiny pile of ashes cupped in the palm of her hand.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, her vision misted by tears of gratitude and of loss. “I’ll bury his ashes with Micfal’s and plant one of Khan’s rose bushes over it.”

  Raising her damp gaze to the lavender sky, she said out loud, “You’re free to go on to the Hall of the Dead, Father. I’ll be all right now. Give Mother and my brothers my dearest love.”

  A brush like a benediction on her forehead, and his spirit faded away.

  Daria touched her fingers to her lips and tossed a kiss into the breeze. Goodbye, Father. She glanced around at Khan.

  He’d been watching her, ready to step in if she needed his support. Understanding showed in his brown eyes.

  She held out her hand.

  He stepped forward. As their fingers touched, the othersense connection blazed between them.

  Yes, this was right.

  ~ ~ ~

  Hand in hand with Daria, Khan walked down the corridor to the center of the Goddess’s shrine. In his other hand, he held the reins of Thaddis’s mount, while Daria led Nika and Teifa. They’d removed the packs and gear from the golden stallion, but he was badly depleted, his head held low, his gait unsteady. The horses’ hooves echoed on the marble tiles, almost obscuring the distant sound of trickling water.

  Apparently scenting dampness in the air, the animal raised his head and nickered. Eager to reach the heart of the Goddess’s sanctuary, Khan quickened his pace, and the golden stallion moved with them.

  “Do you think the Goddess will heal an animal?”

  “I hope so.” Khan petted the stallion’s neck. “Especially one as magnificent as this one. At least being in the pool—drinking the water—should benefit him.”

  Hopefully, being in the Goddess’s actual presence and washing in the healing pool would also help Khan’s unsettled feelings about Daria.

  Up ahead, the opalescent light of the Goddess beckoned, and they stepped into the circular room. A familiar peace stole over Khan, sparkling in his heart just as the flecks in the marble glinted back gold light.

  The monkey-bats chittered with excitement and zoomed straight toward the pool, plopping into the water, splashing and squealing.

  At the edge of the pool, they unsaddled the horses, dropping the equipment on the floor. Nika
clopped into the water and drank, Teifa followed.

  The golden horse snuffled at the surface, then waded in, sinking his muzzle into the cool depths and sucking in the water.

  Khan allowed the horses a brief drink. With their cupped hands, Khan and Daria scooped water and dribbled the liquid over the stallion’s oozing gash. Blood and dust ran off the horse’s hide, the grimy moisture beads clarifying to crystal purity before they dropped back into the pool.

  But the animal was too depleted. He stood with his muzzle inches above the water, his body quivering.

  Khan felt a moment of helplessness.

  Making a sound of impatience in their minds, the Goddess waved at them to step back. She’d fix everything.

  Relieved, Khan lifted one eyebrow toward the statue and gave her a mock bow. With a smile, he moved away from the horse.

  As if greeted by the Goddess, the stallion nickered and tossed his head.

  He tells me his true name is Windchaser.

  “Windchaser,” Khan repeated, grinning at the Goddess. “Thanks for the information. Will you talk to Nika too whenever I need a translator?”

  The statue seemed to return the grin, the marble around her eyes crinkling.

  With a puffing snort, Windchaser lowered to his knees and rolled over, bloody side down. After a few minutes, he rolled to his other side.

  The horse rose to his feet and shook himself; water shivered off his gleaming hide. No trace of the wound remained. He thrust one hoof forward, and, like a courtier at a ball, inclined his head in an almost human bow.

  Khan smacked the stallion on the rump, urging him out of the way.

  With a snort of apparent indignation, Windchaser splashed off a few steps.

  Khan flashed a quick smile at Daria, lifting her into his arms.

  She giggled, trying to wiggle away.

  Rejoicing to see the playful glow in her green eyes, Khan spun, then lowered her until her toes touched the bottom of the pool.

  They both took a quick dip, sitting in the water, fully clothed, laughing and splashing each other. Shad and Shir joined in the water fight, but after a few minutes swam off to float on their backs.