The Quest for the Heart Orb (The Orbs of Rathira)

by Laura Jo Phillips

  “Destroy her body if you can, Nikura,” Bredon said, just loud enough to be heard. Karma frowned, wondering how Bredon had known what Nikura said, then realized at almost the same moment that Nikura was speaking out loud. She was hearing him for the first time with her ears, and everyone else could hear him too.

  “This animal hasn’t the power to harm me,” Marene scoffed. Karma smiled tiredly. That had been a mistake.

  Nikura’s eyes narrowed, and Marene smirked as she waited to hear what he would say. For once, Nikura didn’t pause to argue. Instead, he attacked the Myrkur, moving so fast that he was no more than the bright, silvery blur that had come to Karma’s rescue so many times, if a bit larger. But Marene was just as fast. Everyone moved back out of the way as the two giant creatures slammed into each other, then began rolling around in a slashing, screeching ball of blurring teeth and claws. After several heart-stopping moments they broke apart, backed away from each other, and then leapt at each other again. The next time they broke apart they circled warily, each looking for an opening.

  “Nikura, love, isn’t it my turn yet?” Ankiru asked as she sauntered across the roof, weaving through the watching Hunters.

  “Are you trying to take away my fun, Anki?” Nikura asked, and every eye turned to the small cream and chocolate Sphin that, until Nikura spoke, no one but Karma had noticed since only she could hear her. Karma struggled to gather a little energy which she sent into the Ti-Ank, then out to Ankiru so everyone could hear her.

  Ankiru strolled right up to Nikura, the top of her head barely reaching as high as his knee. She rubbed her cheek against his leg, then turned her back to him. She sat down facing Marene, curling her long tail around her paws as though she hadn’t a care in the world. It was such an odd thing to do, given how tiny she was in comparison to the combatants, that even Marene stopped to frown down at her.

  “I know Lady Techu said you could have some fun, Niku, and I’m sure you deserve it, but I want some too,” she said. “Will you deny me?”

  “By no means,” Nikura said with a chuckle. Then he sat down behind his mate and wrapped his tail around his paws just as Ankiru had.

  Marene’s yellow eyes flashed red with fury, then she smiled and raised Zatroa again, this time aiming it at Ankiru. She started to laugh as she stared straight into the diminutive Sphin’s soft chocolate eyes and, just that fast, she was trapped.

  She could not pull her eyes away from Ankiru’s no matter how hard she tried. She called on her own power, but it did not respond. She reached for the power of Zatroa, but it was like slamming her hand into stone. She was so stunned at being cut off from her magic that it took her a few moments to realize that she couldn’t do anything at all.

  She couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t scream or growl. She couldn’t even breathe. She tried to shift back into her human form, tried to force the serpents on her head to spray their venom at the Sphin, tried to make her wings flap so they could carry her away from this place until she came up with an appropriate punishment for those who were witnessing this moment of weakness. But absolutely nothing worked. She was forced to watch helplessly as the Sphin’s eyes slowly changed. They went from rich chocolate to tan, to beige, to white, and then to silver. Instead of eyes, they were now twin mirrors that reflected the Myrkur’s image back to her in absolute, exquisite detail.

  “Cover your eyes, everyone,” Nikura warned as Ankiru’s eyes began to grow brighter and brighter. Within moments everyone on the rooftop was forced to not just close their eyes, but cover them with their arms or hands as well. Even then, everyone saw the blinding flash of light to some degree or another although, luckily, no one saw what Marene saw.

  When Karma was able to open her eyes again she could only gape at the sight before her. Where moments before Marene had stood in her green scaled Myrkur form, now sat what appeared to be a statue carved from some sort of dirty gray and pitted stone. It was complete in every detail down to the Djinn scepter still grasped in one clawed hand, and a string of venomous saliva hanging from her open mouth.

  “Well done, Anki,” Nikura said, resuming his normal appearance.

  “Is she dead?” Tiari asked.

  “That is a good question,” Ankiru said.

  “What do you mean?” Karma asked after extending the thread of energy to Nikura so all could hear him too.

  “One might reasonably expect that a being turned to stone would be irrefutably dead,” she replied. “There is no blood, no heart, no flesh. How could such a thing live?”

  “And yet?” Karma asked.

  “And yet, I feel her,” Ankiru said. “Trapped within the stone, yes, but not dead. She is…suspended. For a time.”

  “She cannot die,” Bredon gasped weakly. “But she can be banished forever to the darkness.”

  Ankiru cocked her head sideways as she gazed at Bredon where he still laid, Kapia kneeling beside him. “Ah,” she said. “Myrkur means darkness. I hadn’t put that together. I suppose my head is still a bit muddled.”

  “It’s to be expected after a thousand years, Anki,” Nikura said.

  Ankiru purred as she rubbed her cheek on his shoulder. Under other circumstances, Karma thought she would have laughed at the oh-so-serious Sphin. But not now.

  “He is her fudaso?” Ankiru asked.

  “Yes,” Karma answered.

  Ankiru sighed, but said no more as she turned to rub her head against Nikura’s shoulder once more. Karma and Zakiel struggled to their feet and went to Bredon where they knelt again. Kapia sobbed at the sight of blood running from Bredon’s mouth. “You were getting better a moment ago,” Kapia said. “Why are you bleeding now?”

  “Marene’s magic was healing the damage caused by the poison almost as fast as it occurred,” he said weakly. “But her magic is silenced for the moment.”

  “What did you mean about her being banished?” Karma asked.

  “I am her fudaso,” Bredon said. “Her anchor in the light. She is Myrkur, a creature of utter darkness.”

  “I don’t understand, Bredon,” Zakiel said.

  “He who chooses to become cin sahib is evil, but it is, in some ways, a safe path. He binds his soul to the Djinn, and invites it into his body in exchange for the temporary strength and power he will enjoy while he lives. When his fudaso dies, or if his own body dies, whichever is first, his soul will return to Skiatos with his Djinn master where it remains forever.

  “The cin-sahib has limited power and little control in life, and will be forever slave to the Djinn in death. As you might easily guess, becoming cin-sahib held no appeal for Marene.”

  “Bredon, enough,” Kapia said. “You’re using too much of your strength. This can wait.” She looked around, spotting Ren not too far away. “Ren, please, come and use your spines on Bredon!”

  “No, surna, she can’t,” Bredon said on a gasp.

  “Why not?” Kapia demanded, still waving at Ren to come over.

  “Listen to me,” Bredon said. He waited until Kapia nodded reluctantly. “Unlike cin-sahib, the Myrkur is under no one’s control. But, while the Myrkur’s freedom and power are much greater than a cin sahib could ever hope to enjoy, so are the risks. Without a fudaso, the Myrkur will no longer have an anchor in the light. Nor will she have an anchor on Skiatos as cin sahib do. The black filth that is her soul will be claimed by the darkest and coldest of all possible hells, and there it will remain for all eternity.” Bredon gasped, then panted for a few moments. His voice was growing weak, but his green eyes shifted from Kapia to Zakiel and held steadily. “This is an absolute. There is no bargaining. No second chances. No escape. This was a choice she made of her own free will, knowing all the possible consequences of her decision. She was not tricked or lied to.”

  “How long have you known this?” Kapia asked.

  “Some of it just today, but most of it since yesterday,” Bredon said, his voice a whisper. “I should have figured it out sooner. It was right in front of me, in front of us
all, but I didn’t think of it until Marene told a lie, and I heard the truth. Only if I die will Marene be forced from the light, freeing Rathira from her forever.”

  “With her spirit trapped in the stone, you needn’t die,” Kapia said. “Ren can heal you.”

  “Anki?” Karma asked silently.

  “She will break free,” Ankiru said sadly. “In fact, I think she may do so rather soon.”

  Karma looked at Bredon, but he was already shaking his head.

  “She will escape, Kapia.”

  “You don’t know that,” she said.

  “I do know it,” Bredon said. “Each second I live gives her another second to grow stronger. She will escape, and when she does, this chance to be rid of her will be lost forever. She will take me somewhere out of your reach. I will suffer for all eternity, and never, ever be allowed to die. You must never imagine for a moment that there is a way around this, because I promise you, there isn’t.”

  “I understand, Bredon,” Zakiel said. Bredon relaxed a little, but his eyes remained on Kapia. It was she, more than anyone, who needed to understand and accept this. Finally, she lifted her chin and nodded once.

  “You honor the Blood of your fathers, Sir Bredon of the House of Bauron,” she said. “And I, Kapia, Princess of Isiben, shall forever honor your Blood.” Her voice shook, and the tears continued to fall, but Bredon relaxed in the knowledge that she understood. She would not harbor regrets, would not second guess this decision and most of all, she would not hate him for doing what he had to do.

  “What can we do to help you?” Zakiel asked.

  “A moment with Kapia, please,” Bredon gasped.

  Kapia watched Karma lean down and kiss Bredon on the forehead, then climb to her feet and walk away. Before Zakiel could follow her, she caught his arm and shook her head.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “Marry us, Brother,” she said. “Right here, right now.”

  “What?” Zakiel asked, startled.

  “Do it,” she insisted, then looked down into Bredon’s eyes. “Know that you will live on in our child, Bredon.”

  His eyes suddenly filled with a hope that sent a new flood of tears coursing down her cheeks, but she would not break down now. She would be strong for him. “You are certain?”

  “Yes, Tiari saw the light within me this morning,” she said, squeezing his hand. Then she looked up at Zakiel who nodded reluctantly.

  He’d read of this in ancient texts, from times of war and blood, so he knew what words to say. But this wouldn’t be the same as a regular wedding ceremony. This was short, quick, and cut straight to the heart of what a true marriage was meant to be, without benefit of years of companionship to nurture it along. He glanced over his shoulder at Karma, and then back to Bredon, putting himself in his friend’s place. Then he looked at Kapia, at the expression in her eyes as she watched the love of her life dying in front of her, even though a cure for the poison in his veins stood nearby. She honored their Blood, as she had so many times during their long and difficult journey. The time had come for him to honor her Blood.

  “Bredon of the House of Bauron, do you desire to tie your soul for all eternity to the soul of this woman?”

  Gathering all of his strength, Bredon looked into Kapia’s eyes and spoke clearly and without hesitation. “I do.”

  “Kapia, Princess of Isiben, do you desire to tie your soul for all eternity to the soul of this man?”

  “Yes, I do,” she said.

  “By my own eyes do I see, by my own ears do I hear, by my own oath do I attest to your solemn vows, one to the other.” Zakiel paused, swallowed hard, then completed the ritual. “According to these precepts do I, Prince Zakiel of Isiben, hereby pronounce you Bound, one to the other, in this life and the next. When your souls meet in the Beyond, you will know each other, remember each other, and be connected to each other, forevermore.”

  “Do you feel it, Bredon?” Kapia whispered, her eyes wide. “I feel your soul connected to mine. Do you feel me?” He smiled.

  “Yes, little flower, I do,” Bredon whispered. “I will never be alone again. I am content.”

  “Thank you, Brother,” Kapia said, her eyes never leaving Bredon’s. Zakiel got to his feet and walked away, leaving them alone in these final moments, unsure whether he’d done the right thing or not. He had a feeling he’d spend the rest of his life pondering that question.

  Bredon reached for the knife he’d kept hidden beneath his vest, but lacked the strength to remove it, so Kapia did it for him. “Mintaka Til,” she said in surprise. “But, how?”

  “Marene,” he said, his voice so weak she had to lean close to hear his whispered words. “Her magic will soon be null. Will you accept this?”

  “Yes, of course,” Kapia replied, taking the knife from him and holding it tightly. “I will pass it to our son or daughter, this I promise.” She paused, then swallowed hard. “Are you sure there isn’t some way…,” she asked, more tears streaming down her face.

  “No, my love,” he whispered. “This is the way it was meant to be from the moment Marene chose to make me her fudaso.” Using all of the strength he could gather, he raised one hand and caught a tear on his finger tip. “Do not look for Karma to give you messages from me, surna. As much as I love you, I will not have you waste your life waiting on words from me. Find something, or someone, who makes you happy and live your life to the fullest. When the time comes for you to cross over to the great Beyond, I will be there, waiting for you.”

  “I love you, Bredon,” she whispered, then bent to press her lips to his, her tears wetting his face.

  “I will always love you,” he whispered, giving her his last breath.

  Five Years Later

  Kapia sat on the balcony of her private apartments and gazed down at the garden her mother had created, and her father had tended after her death. She and Karma now shared the joy and responsibility of caring for the garden together, a task they both greatly enjoyed.

  She slipped Mintaka Til from its sheath and laid it on the railing. She always felt Bredon now, thanks to the ritual Zakiel had performed for them, but she seemed to feel him more strongly when she touched the blade. Sometimes that was good, but just as often it brought her grief too close, so she was careful not to do it too often.

  Today was special though. A day when feeling Bredon was important. This was the fifth anniversary of the end of the Eschaton, and, of course, Bredon’s death. She’d done a lot in the past five years, with Zakiel’s and Karma’s help and unending support. She’d worked tirelessly to help the families who’d lost so much when the demons overran Ka-Teru and Ausar. She’d helped rebuild homes and businesses, and created distribution centers stocked with food and clothing for those who’d lost everything. She’d used her own money to build orphanages and personally oversaw each one, making sure that the children had all that they needed from food and clothing, to schooling.

  There was little need for her efforts now, though. People had recovered, gotten back on their feet and moved on with their lives, as was right. She just didn’t know what she was supposed to do next, and that left her feeling at a loss.

  The sound of little running footsteps had her smiling even before she left the balcony and went inside. “Aunty, Aunty,” little Rhoby called, his black curls bouncing as he trotted toward her. Her own son, Bredon, was just behind Rhoby even though he was seven months younger than his cousin, and a bit shorter in the legs. “We have a visitor!”

  “You do?” Kapia asked, kneeling down to pick up both children in her arms and swing them around in circles until they squealed in delight.

  “Yes, Mama, we do!” Bredon crowed, pointing back the way he’d come. Kapia set both boys back on their feet, running her fingers through her son’s red curls before looking toward the doorway.

  Joanne, Rhobar’s twin sister who was a tiny copy of Karma, just as Rhoby was a tiny copy of Zakiel, entered the room with a girl of about ten or eleven years. She had l
ong black hair and dark blue eyes that seemed to dance with some inner light when she looked from Joanne to Kapia.

  “Good morning, Joanie,” Kapia said. “Who’s your friend?”

  “Her name’s Nica,” Joanie said. “She asked to meet you, Aunty Pia, so we brought her. She’s very nice.”

  “I’m sure she is,” Kapia said, smiling at her niece before turning her attention her guest. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nica. Welcome to Rathira.”

  “Thank you, Highness,” Nica said. “I hope you don’t mind, but when I heard that Aisling Gryphon was coming to visit Queen Karma, I asked if I could come too. I wanted to meet you.”

  “I don’t mind at all,” Kapia said. “I hope you don’t think I’m rude for asking, but is there a particular reason you wanted to meet me?” Nica glanced down at the smaller children, then back at Kapia uncertainly. “Children,” Kapia said, “I believe you are about to be late for breakfast, and you know how King Zakiel feels about tardiness.”

  Rhoby and Bredon looked at her wide-eyed for a moment, then ran from the room, their laughter ringing up and down the halls. Joanie curtsied politely and asked to be excused first, then ran after them, her laughter joining the boys’. Kapia grinned, then turned back to Nica. “Would you like to sit?”

  “No, thank you,” Nica said. “May we go out on your balcony? I feel like I can never get enough fresh air again after two weeks on a ship.”

  Kapia wrinkled her nose as she led Nica out to the balcony. “I can’t imagine and don’t think I want to.” She watched as Nica gazed up at the sky, then down at the garden, closing her eyes for a moment as she breathed deeply. Kapia waited patiently for the girl to speak in her own time, noting that there was something about her that made her seem much older than her years.

  “Aisling told me that you’re familiar with people who have extra…senses,” Nica said carefully.