Prophecy's Promise (Prophecy of the Edges Book 1)

by Lauren Amundson

  “I do apologize for yesterday. I am glad Rcanian stepped in.”

  “How long ago did your relationship end?”

  She jumped a little in surprise at the question. “A year ago.”

  “You still trust him?” I asked.

  “With my life, but not like that anymore,” she said slowly.

  “Then trust his judgment. Trust Desha’s. Don’t stir up trouble. Help us. The easier it is for us, the faster I will learn to read the book, and the sooner we will leave the Mitanni.”

  “If it will make you leave sooner, I will think on it,” she promised. We shook hands and I left, mildly surprised by how well the conversation had gone.

  Chapter 31

  We quickly settled into a routine. Despite Desha’s hesitation, Rcanian arranged for Bahlym to gain the Council non-voting seat. Duties associated with that took up most of Bahlym’s time. He took his obligations on the Council very seriously, learning and practicing the customs of the Mitanni and studying books on the law nearly as intensely as I studied Shezdon’s book.

  Each day, Adara and I studied the language of the book, often with Yammin’s assistance. Little by little, I learned more vocabulary and the words in the book began to make sense. But, it was not happening quickly enough.

  “What does k’araina cistea’a mean?” I asked.

  Adara set down her book. “There’s no good translation for cistea’a, but basically, is a Fortified without an object.”

  “What about k’araina?”

  “To wrench or twist,” Yammin responded, “But that is the god tense.”

  “We must ‘wrench or twist’ The Edges, one at a time, into cistea’a.”

  “Really?” Adara perked up. “That’s great information. Where are the cistea’a?”

  “But k’araina is in the god’s tense,” Yammin repeated. “There are no gods left.”

  “It seems as if another part of the book explains the location of the cistea’a and how to use them.” I sighed. “But it doesn’t refer to the page or the section.”

  “Okay. Well, how do you cleanse Azabin?” Adara asked.

  “It doesn’t say.” I slammed the book shut. I hadn’t done a very good job of cleansing the very little Mist Energy that I had absorbed. How could I possibly cleanse all of Azabin? I hoped the book held the answer. “I want to be able to understand all of this now.”

  “Be patient,” Yammin told me. “A sapling slowly matures to be the tallest tree.”

  I don’t think Yammin could have picked a better word than “slowly.” If I’d been able to focus solely on my studies, maybe the knowledge would come faster, but the more I, as the Promise, participated in the Mitanni’s culture, the easier it would be for Bahlym to be accepted. After everything he and his sister had done for me and everything he gave up, I had to go along with it.

  And so the days passed and turned into weeks. After our conversation, Vasani never directly spoke out against me again. She must have passed along my message to the other Mitanni, because I heard cited more than once, “The faster the Promise learns the book, the faster the outsiders will leave,” nearly word for word the argument I’d given Vasani. And thus the worst of the public displays of abhorrence stopped. Better yet, the Mitanni began to slowly adjust to our presence, which was significantly more comfortable than begrudged toleration. People no longer stopped to stare at us, but began to wave and smile instead. The movement to evict Adara, Bahlym, and me from the Mitanni lost momentum. However, according to Bahlym, Vasani and those closest to her still countered everything he said in the Council.

  Adara’s infatuation with Rcanian grew. A few weeks into our stay with him, Adara wanted to make dinner for him, as this was a common tradition in the Mitanni for a woman to indicate that she liked a man. I’d no idea how she heard about it, but once she did, she was anxious to make a perfect meal for him. Since she’d never cooked before, she enlisted me to help.

  At the meat-monger’s shop, we ran into Desha, Namje, and surprisingly, Embe. Upon seeing us, Embe immediately dropped the shopping basket she was holding. Eggs spilled and cracked, but she stood her ground even though her pale green eyes were opened in fright. I smiled at her, trying my best to look harmless.

  “I thought you’d be taller,” Embe whispered, tucking a coppery-red braid behind her ear. After a few more moments, she collected the items she spilled.

  Desha smiled at her daughter then turned to me. “Your danger time is close to done, is it not?”

  “Danger time?” I repeated, uncertain.

  Desha looked shocked. “The child is nearly a third through its gestation. Don’t you have a similar celebration?”

  “When’s your party?” Namje asked.

  “Why would I have a party?”

  Desha said, “It’s a tradition. Twelve weeks into the pregnancy, we hold a celebration for the mother-to-be. Usually the families of the parents host the party.”

  “Since Hailey has no family here, perhaps you and I could plan the party for her,” Adara suggested. Both Embe and Namje piped in, excited at the prospect.

  “I wouldn’t want you to go through all that effort. It’s okay,” I insisted.

  I think that it was Embe’s interest that pushed Desha toward agreeing. “It ought to be family, but I suppose we could,” Desha said, ignoring my protests. She and Adara decided to meet the following afternoon to start planning my party. Desha and the children took their leave, and Adara and I finished our shopping.

  I suppose it shouldn’t have been surprising that Adara didn’t end up needing much help preparing the meal. She was unrelenting when she wanted something, and she wanted this dinner to go as flawlessly as possible. She’d been helping Rcanian cook on the nights that we did not go out to a restaurant or pub for dinner. On the nights we did go out, I’d seen her sneak back to the kitchens in the guise of helping the staff, a common custom in the Mitanni. I don’t think she would have suggested this if she wasn’t confident of success, at least in the culinary arena. I still couldn’t decide how I thought Rcanian would take it.

  Adara fussed over every last detail. Ensuring that each flower blossom was stuffed with the appropriate amount of cheese; each lamb chop was cooked to perfection; and the fruits were intermixed into the salad evenly. I set the table, mimicking the formal mountain style as best as I could. Adara arranged the extra flowers on the table.

  Bahlym completed his assigned task correctly; he and Rcanian arrived home on time, only a few moments after Adara had taken the lamb from the oven.

  “What’s going on?” Rcanian asked as he walked into the kitchen.

  Adara’s face turned as red as the flower blossoms. I’d never seen her at a loss for words before.

  “Adara made you dinner. Wow, it smells great,” said Bahlym. “Hailey and I will grab food at the Goat’s Pub.” Bahlym patted Rcanian on the back, but Rcanian and Adara both stood motionless and wide eyed, looking at each other.

  “Yeah, I think we’ll go now.” I grabbed my sweater and the book, retreating out the front door after Bahlym.

  I had hoped for an uneventful meal. When Bahlym and I entered the room, all eyes turned to us. Vasani, Esden, and a few of the other members of the Council were at the Goat. We made our way over to their table, whispers following in our wake.

  “Your sister and Rcanian are sharing a meal?” Esden asked as we sat down.

  Vasani picked at her food. “Bahlym is simply throwing his sister at the suitor with the most to offer him. I’d have expected nothing less from an Empirite.”

  “Adara is her own person and can do as she wishes.” Bahlym shrugged. “Besides, I am sharing a meal with the Promise. Is there something forbidden here?”

  Esden shook his head. “You and the Promise do not look at each other the same way that Adara and Rcanian do.”

  No one mentioned anything more on the subject. The conversation turned to matters of the Council, and I dove into my book. After dinner, we trudged the two blocks back to Rcanian�
��s home. I half expected Adara and Rcanian to still be locked in the same pose we’d left them in, but they were not. The dishes had been cleared from the table, and Adara and Rcanian sipped wine in between scrubbing the dishes Adara and I had used to make the dinner.

  “Went well I take it?” Bahlym poured himself a glass of wine. “I think I’ll make myself scarce,” he said and walked off toward his bedroom. Following suit, I took my book to the loft. I’d been focusing on the language study itself and hadn’t tried really reading the book much recently. I was amazed by the amount that I could now understand. Another word became another phrase became another realization.

  But, as much as I learned, there were too many words that I didn’t understand yet. There was more about the poles, but even more important, there were cistea’a at the poles. And these cistea’a were the key. Key to what, I still was not sure, but it was a start. And for once, a piece of good news. The destruction of one edge would cause Azabin pain. And this pain would take time for him to recover from. So, fixing Gryshelm’s Edge could buy me some time to recover before moving onto the other ones.

  Adara tiptoed into the room. “You still awake?” she asked.

  “Had a couple breakthroughs.”

  “Me, too.” She grinned as she lay down on the bed beside me.

  For the next several weeks, whispers about Adara and Rcanian’s scandalous courtship filled the streets of the mountain city. They were both careful to follow the mountain’s rules of decorum. Adara continued to sleep in the loft with me, but there were a few times when I woke up in the middle of the night and she was not there. I did not ask her about it, figuring if she wanted to talk about it, she’d broach the subject.

  Eventually, the book began to make more sense. There were more weak points between our worlds besides that one that I’d passed through a few weeks prior. From what I understood, some might even be weak enough for me to pull others through. But where? The translation was eluding me. I needed to find it so that I could get back to my Slice and heal the break. This was the last piece of information that I needed so that I could get back home, back to Gryshelm. I would confront Nazarie, destroy Azabin, and open a university in Dybreakea.

  It might not have been my original dream, but it was a new one, and this path felt right. My daughter and I would find happiness. A name floated into my thoughts, Sara Heather. The Empire’s habit of using two names seemed very appropriate. Sara Heather. I repeated the name a few times. I would fulfill the whole mess about the Prophecy and then return to my studies, living a happy and peaceful existence, just Sara Heather and me.

  I was sure of it.

  Chapter 32

  On the day of my party, most of the Council members and leaders of the priesthood crowded into Desha’s house. Everyone brought a colored paper lantern inscribed with a wish for my baby. We strung them up, one by one outside the house before each person entered. The street seemed to blossom with wish-lanterns.

  “Desha!” Ripping through the happy ambiance, a young man’s voice called out. “Desha!” he called again, floating to the ground before us. “The Empire approaches. You are needed at the gates.”

  Vasani dropped her plate, figs and winter flowers raining to the ground. She grabbed Bahlym by his shirt and pulled him from the house. She hurled him against the fence, crushing a purple wish-lantern. “Tell us what they want,” she demanded.

  “Vasani,” Rcanian said calmly from the threshold. “You and Bahlym are beyond this. He’s not of the Empire anymore and hasn’t had any contact with them.”

  Vasani’s lip curled, but she released Bahlym. “You say that because you’ve been tainted by that one.” She nodded to Adara. “At least put them under custody for their own protection while we sort this out.”

  “I will do nothing of the sort,” Desha said. “They have done nothing wrong. They are under Mitanni protection.”

  “And you might need a translator,” Bahlym pointed out.

  “I’m coming, too,” I announced.

  Vasani shrugged. “I’ve no problem with the Promise.”

  “You weren’t asked,” Desha replied dryly.

  Adara decided to stay with Yammin and the children, but most of the guests accompanied us across town to the militia sergeant who waited for us at the gate. “They are still a long ways off,” the sergeant informed us, pointing to the Empire’s envoy approaching on foot.

  “Abandoning their flying monstrosities is a gesture of good will,” Desha pronounced.

  “It’s a gesture of ‘please don’t kill us,’” Vasani retorted.

  “Mayhap a little of both,” Desha agreed.

  “They’ve realized that they cannot replace the Promise and have come to figure out how to regain some control of the situation,” Kirta announced.

  “I think it is time to go forth and meet them. I don’t want to wait for them to hike up the path,” Desha said. “The militia should come. The Promise, too. Someone can carry you through the air. Vasani, I leave you in control.”

  Vasani nodded. “Yes, of course.”

  “You need a translator,” Bahlym insisted.

  “I trust they had the prudence to bring their own translator. You’ll stay here,” Desha said.

  The sergeant began handing out the same purple capes the militia had worn the day I’d first come to the mountains. The men and women of the mountains tied the cloaks around their necks, whispering prayers as they did so. I was not given a cloak. Rcanian scooped me up and took to the sky with the rest of the militia.

  When I’d flown in hovercrafts, I had been blocked from the rushing air. The ground had only been visible through panes of glass. Now the cold air surrounded me, and the only solid force I could feel was Rcanian. The Mist that wrapped around us felt as solid as a cloud, but we remained in the air. I tried to focus on the tapestry that Rcanian wove with the Mist as I clung to him. The cottages and fields spread out below us like a patchwork quilt.

  As we approached the throng of Empirites, they stopped. We were low enough to the ground to see the expressions of fear and wonder stamped on the men’s faces. General Kadir spurred his horse forward. He held his golden diadem over his head, and it shook slightly in his grasp.

  “He is the leader of the Empire,” I whispered to Desha, who floated to Rcanian’s left.

  Kadir threw his diadem on the ground beneath us. “Promise, we have come to seek your aid,” he said in Cuneiform.

  “My aid?” I shouted down to him. “What of my husband? Isn’t he your new Promise?”

  “Drahwan tried, but something happened. He walked up to the place that you had walked through. As he got closer, our Edge started to glow bright red. He stepped into our Edge and it… exploded… Azabin devoured all of those within leagues. The event was televised. Azabin’s power was so great that when the recording devices were absorbed, all televisions tuned to the event exploded. Tens of thousands are dead. It seems as if the Mist power of those who were at our Edge has been… absorbed into Azabin, and he is now… hungry. That Edge grows at an alarming rate and it is possible that the other Edges are doing the same. If it continues, our scientists believe that the outskirts of the city will be destroyed within the month.”

  “So what you are trying to say is that you need our help,” Desha said. “But we are of the mountains. It doesn’t matter what happens outside of them.”

  “Desha, both the Empire and the Mitanni need our help,” Kirta said calmly. “Or more correctly, we all need Hailey’s help. If absorbing people makes it accelerate, the number of souls in that city could cause it to detonate. That Edge and the eastern Edge will rush to meet each other, destroying the whole world, including the mountains.”

  “Our calculations, while light on data points, suggest that could occur before summer fully ascends upon us,” said Kadir.

  Less than two months, and our entire world would be destroyed. But, if the rate of growth was on both sides of Gryshelm’s Edge. My old town of River’s End, my father, and everyone I
knew in my recently remembered childhood, had maybe a week until they would be dissolved into nothingness.

  “So, that’s bad, obviously, but what can the Mitanni do? The Promise is the only one who can help,” Desha stated.

  “True,” I said, hesitantly, trying to collect my words so that they would come out correctly. “I don’t fully understand, but I think I know enough. I have to get back to my Slice. It’s only from that side that I can heal The Edges and destroy Azabin. But, there is a page missing from the book.”

  Kirta’s eyes rolled back in her head. “Your aunt,” she said. “She has the missing page. She won’t give it up without a fight. And with a fight, there will be horrendous bloodshed.”

  Rcanian frowned. “It will be Hailey against a nation. Maybe against a full Slice. How could there be a battle of this magnitude.”

  “Because I don’t have to return to my Slice alone,” I responded. “There is weak spot. I could take others, but obviously, it will dangerous.”

  Kadir stepped forward. “Promise, we will send an army with you.”

  “Really?” I asked dryly. “Things didn’t go so well last time I turned to you for help.”

  “Promise, we’ve been waiting for you for a millennium. I’m sorry we didn’t recognize you when you stood before us. Don’t punish the world for our shortcomings.”

  A politician’s speech.

  But true nonetheless. And, despite the fact that I had no idea how to cleanse the evil energy, I needed to do it. Even if it killed me.

  “Your Slice has lived in a tenuous peace for generations. Can you really fight?” I asked.

  “I am your vassal, if you will have me,” Kadir vowed.

  “Drahwan’s titles are mine again, correct?” I asked and Kadir nodded assent. “Then I give them all to Adara Zayad. Do you agree?”

  “A woman?” Kadir snarled.

  “I am a woman,” I said, “and you pledged loyalty, do you recant?”