by Daniel Huber
The Avè made a motion with his hand, and again Quade's head wrenched from the intrusion. In a blur, and in the matter of a few seconds, every moment of his life raced before his eyes, until the events of the past few months began to play out on the air between them. Everything he'd done, everything he'd seen, the emissaries, the dreams, the visions, the voices, all were replayed in fast forward, relived as they watched. It took only a few minutes, and when it was over, the Avè let go his lock on Quade's mind, and Quade slumped to the stone table, physically exhausted and emotionally drained. He kept his face buried in his folded arms for several minutes, recovering from the experience, and when he finally did have the strength to turn his head and look out from beneath his long hair which hung across his eyes, he saw that the Avè was sitting silently, lost in thought. The older man held his face in his hand as he leaned against the table, and Quade stared at the rings on his fingers, finding that to be an easy thing to do. After what seemed like a rather long silence, Quade finally willed his lips to speak.
"Can you… help me, Avè?" The effort for these few simple words was enormous and even the weight of his eyelids seemed a burden for him to lift. The Avè looked down to him with a cocked brow, then reached out and casually placed his palm on Quade's temple. He immediately felt his energy return, and straightened upright when the Avè removed his hand.
"Tell me something of the one who told you the riddle of P'cadia."
"That's Clea," Quade paused and frowned. "But you were inside my mind, pulled my thoughts out right before me with no effort at all, saw everything there was to see. Why do you need to ask me anything now?"
"Indeed I saw your mind, Quade, but I did not pause to examine it all." The Avè spoke slowly. "'Tis much living one does in twenty-four years. In a minute or two I've not the time to review your life, nor do I have the need. The thoughts most prevalent in your mind are the ones I see without trying. Kitrina's bedroom, Tal-Min Vista. They speak to me, without your knowing. I saw the events you've been experiencing… but not all the details surrounding them."
"I wouldn't even know where to begin telling you about Clea. I've known her since we were children, she's Trina's best friend. And when I spoke of P'cadia, from the urging of the emissaries, she told me a riddle. A riddle that she said would bring me here to you, and that I should be able to understand it, if I were 'truly who I appeared to be'. Hmm…" Quade thought for a moment, paused to recall. "I never thought about that part until just now. After a little thinking, the riddle did make sense. I've been to this planet before, years ago."
The Avè nodded, as though he knew this. "And where is Clea now?"
"I don't know, Avè. She left me behind even as I tried to pursue her. She told me the riddle and then she disappeared."
"'Tis no surprise. But you must find her, Quade. You must bring her here to P'cadia. She has much knowledge."
"I don't know how I'll do that." Quade shook his head. "It seems that I've got so much I have to do, and my time runs short. I have only three days."
"Perhaps four." A little startled, Quade looked up at the man who sat across from him, and the Avè leaned forward as he began to speak. "Our world is weaved intricately with legend and lore, Quade. Our history is defined by the stories that have been passed down as truths. 'Tis a deep burden you carry, and at the forefront I sense that you fear you cannot save the Keystone."
Quade looked down, feeling strangely relieved that there was finally someone with whom he could share this scenario. "Perhaps the life of one man seems trite considering the future of the entire galaxy is at stake. But he is the most noble man I know, has treated me with more kindness and respect than anyone in the world. And he is Trina's father." He looked down at Trina's amulet which he still held in his hands, squeezed it gently. "It's true that I fear I cannot save him. That no matter what I do, he is destined to die."
Here is where I offer my help, my young friend." The Avè held his hands cupped together and reached out toward Quade. "There is a legend among Avès that when this prophecy does come to pass, one will come seeking answers to a question he does not even know. You ask without asking if I can help you to save the Keystone and the answer Quade, is yes." He opened his hands, revealing what was within.
"This is a lararium, Quade. Do you know what that means?" Quade shook his head as he stared at the item in Avè's open palms. "By definition, a lararium is a shrine and they come in many forms. Some are buildings, some are rooms. This lararium is an ancient sphere. The greatest and most important larariums are given a name, a title. And this particular object is a most important shrine, one that is unique unto itself, and unlike any other thing ever created in the world." The Avè paused for a moment as he held the object, examined it with a particular interest and his voice lowered just a bit as though what he was saying were of great value and mystery. "This lararium is called the Shrine of Animus, and it was created for the one who comes bearing the riddle of P'cadia, which has been given to him by one of the Chosen. It dates back farther than recorded time, before any written history, it is older than any man-made creation and in our galaxy predates man himself." The lararium fit in the palm of the Avè's hand, was round and hollow, and fashioned of thick, cut crystal. "The Avès have been the keepers of this lararium which has been passed down through the ages, whose creation was deemed by the gods themselves. The purpose of the Avè is largely based on its safekeeping. And now, Quade Decairus, I bestow it upon you, because it is yours."
Quade stared in wondrous amazement as he reached toward the object. "Shrine of Animus?" he asked. "It doesn't look much like a shrine." With great purpose, the Avè placed the sphere in his hand. Quade's voice caught the minute that he held it. "Oh… but it is." His fingers wrapped lightly around it, and he began to smile then chuckle quietly.
"What is it, Quade?"
"It sings to me." Quade rolled the sphere over in his palm and stared at it, marveling at the exquisitely cut surface, the prism of light that played off its perfectly clear diamond designs. Nothing he'd ever held in his hand had felt quite so right.
"It does not sing to me, nor has it ever sung before this day."
"No," said Quade, "it sings just to me." He continued to stare at it fondly, held it up between them as the humming coo sounded in his – and only his – ears. "Tell me please, how it works, Avè. How can I use this to save the Keystone? What will it do?"
"It will cleanse the body of all things ethereal, natural and unnatural. The extent of its true power has never been discerned. And it is a powerful object, Quade. Your wish to save the Keystone is merely a fraction of what it can do. It was made for you and you alone, only you can harness the magic it contains." Quade continued to examine the lararium and then the Avè handed him something new. "This you will need as a conduit to aid in what you must do." The new object held out to him was also made of crystal, though it was smooth and the surface was dull. It consisted of two parallel rods that were joined at the top by a platinum bracket and at the bottom by a circular cap. As the Avè held it out, the sphere floated toward it, positioned itself directly below the platinum cap and hovered there, its calming trill still sounding in Quade's ears. It was more narrow than the sphere was wide, and was perhaps twice as long.
The Avè pointed to its two mounted brackets, and Quade noticed that they were affixed with identical saucer shaped altars at the top . "For this deed you will need two personal objects that belong to the Keystone, one that is pure of the taint…"
"…and one from after the taint." Quade finished the sentence, and looked to the Avè, smiled when the older man nodded his head with some surprise.
"You will bring the Keystone into the view of this object, holding it in front of you until he is directly center in the sights." Quade reached to grasp the conduit and held the device out in front of him, lining up random spots in the sights of the object. "Then you will see it do its work." The sphere followed every move of the crystal conduit, maintaining its position beneath the platinum
cap.
"However…there are risks, Quade, and of these you must beware. It is essential that the Keystone not see that you are doing this. Possessed as he is, he must not be allowed to know what you are attempting to do. After you have used the lararium to cleanse him, you must bring it back to me, back to P'cadia, where I will finish this deed. Here in P'cadia is only where it can be completed. Bring it back to me, Quade, and there is hope that the Keystone can be saved."
Two pouches appeared in the Avè's hand, one purple silk and one of black suede, and the Avè touched each one with his palm, and as he did it shimmered with iridescent light. "These bags are now protected, Quade. The one which will harbor the tainted object shall be this." He held up the suede pouch. "And the bag which will contain the object that is clean shall be this." The shiny silk of the purple pouch seemed appropriate for this task. "Now then," the Avè continued, placing the bags both in Quade's hands. "The protection spell that I've imbued in these pouches will allow you to carry the tainted object close to you without harm, and keep harm away from that which is pure. They must both be acquired to make this deed work, Quade. And you must be absolutely sure of their condition." Quade nodded, stowed the little pouches inside his jacket pocket.
"I can do this," Quade said, clutching the Shrine, reaching into another pocket and depositing it there. "Finally! Something I can do! And by doing this, will it help to save our world? Will the SanFear be destroyed? What else do you know of this legend?"
"Ah, I see now all the questions begin. Of the legend, I know all that you know now, Quade. And I know that the Shrine of Animus can capture the SanFear. Soon, I will know all there is to know but there is only so much I can tell you at this moment. I've questions of my own, and a higher power to whom I must pose them. You will wait here, while I get answers to what I will be able to reveal."
"Oh, I can't wait any longer, Avè." Quade stood as the Avè did, gathering Trina's amulet and putting around his neck. "I've not much time… the Keystone is in seclusion…what if he doesn't appear until tomorrow night at Twilight Bloom? How can I do this deed without him knowing what I'm up to? Once its done then, I'll come back to you, but there's still two more of this entity that I have to find! I wasted so much time, Avè! Wasted time thinking that I was insane!"
Suddenly, the emissaries appeared. Right before his eyes, both of them, and Mimic's voice was chiding and shrill as Quade looked at them in shock.
"At last he finally admits the time he has squandered! So stubborn he was, as—"
The Avè scowled and with a brush of his hand commanded, "Be gone from P'cadia!" and the emissaries blew away and disappeared. Quade laughed.
"How did you do that?" He leaned in toward the Avè. "And furthermore, can you teach me? You can't imagine how many times I've wished for the power to do what you just did."
"P'cadia is my place." The Avè smiled, tapped the side of his head. "With a key, one may enter but no one, no thing, will stay without my consent."
"You can see now, my dilemma. Why I thought I was going mad."
"Hearing voices in your head, having mythical creatures appear before your very eyes…'tis no wonder that you thought you were insane."
"I never knew such creatures existed."
"Nor did I until I saw your mind today."
Quade puzzled. "But here in P'cadia… there were fairies. Fairies that brought me here, to you. They were not so unlike the ones we've seen in our books of myth-ridden history, not so unlike the ones I'd seen in my dreams."
"P'cadia is a manifestation of all we know from what we've learned, Quade. I can conjure at will anything you might wish to see by what our imaginations have made it into. You saw the fairies as you would see them. Perhaps you would choose to see a Greshier beast?"
"No! No… that's quite all right. No proof is required of your conjuring powers, Avè." Quade ran his hand over the spot where the Shrine of Animus and its crystal conduit were nestled inside his jacket. The Avè stood, turned and waved for Quade to follow. As they walked their surroundings changed from the standing stones from where they'd been into a labyrinth of narrow corridors lit by flaming stakes that were mounted in iron scones along the walls, and finally opened into a very large and comfortably furnished room.
"For now Quade, rest. You need your strength and you need to take care of yourself, so that you might later take care of others. Eat and drink your fill of all that I've to offer, and then doze as you might. I'll see that you're properly attended to."
"I've a problem, Avè, with resting while I don't even know where Clea is, or my other missing Chosen. Or how I will ever find them, for that matter."
"Many things are now a mystery, Quade. But I've a feeling that events you set in motion will bring your Chosen to you."
The Avè turned and walked away, disappearing after a few steps and Quade paused to look around. He was in a bedchamber, quiet, dimly lit, with ornate and beautiful furniture all around. Priceless, exquisite tapestries adorned the tables and chairs, across the floor, thick brocade curtains covered what Quade assumed to be windows. The ceiling was draped loosely with more tapestries and gold and black tassels, and the sweet scent of incense lightly perfumed the air. The bed was within an alcove and within the wall that enclosed it was a tiny waterfall, its trickling water creating a soothing background noise to sleep beside. Painted sheer silk curtains surrounded the bed, which was richly piled with large, fluffy pillows, a thick, downy comforter, the coverlet weaved from hairfeather, a thread that was rare and widely known as being the softest fiber in the galaxy.
Quade sank into a settee sofa, leaned back into the cradling softness and put his feet up on the tasseled hassock in front of him. Suddenly a light voice sounded from behind.
"You are of Bethel, Quade… are you not?"
He looked up, startled, to see a young girl, surely not yet into her teens standing behind the end of the sofa.
"Yes," he answered.
"Feast well, then," she replied, and from behind her she motioned with her hand and a burnished gold serving cart rolled toward him, stopped in front of where Quade sat. The large cart was strewn with fresh cut flowers and ivy, and a candelabra sat at the top. With a snap of her fingers, the young girl lit all six candles. The tray was filled with heaping plates of food, assorted breads and rich, buttery crackers, complete with creamy spreads and dipping sauces, tender cheeses and ripe melon and peaches, piquant smelling nutted rice and lentil pilaf, stewed pears and apple sauces and baked vegetable and yam hash. A brewing kettle of sweet comfrey tea hung suspended over a tiny flame, its steam whistling gently as the calming perfume of its leaves wafted over the cart. It was a feast to behold, and Quade didn't even know where to begin.
"Thank you," he said, reaching for a braided loaf of bread, breaking off a piece and dipping it into the hashed yams. "I didn't even realize I was hungry until just now."
"Is there anything else that you require?"
"Surely, no. This is already more than I require." He studied the girl for a moment. "You seem real enough. Will you join me to dine?"
She giggled shortly in response. "Real enough I am, indeed, Quade Decairus. Thank you, but no. I shall however, hear if you call for anything you may need." The girl turned to leave, her dark, floor length cloak dragging behind her, her blonde hair in a long braid, twisted elaborately with glittering ribbon. Quade ate until he could eat no more, then climbed onto the bed. He relaxed; perhaps just a short nap would be an allowable luxury. The softness of the bed beneath him, the effect of the meal, the dimming light in the room all worked together to persuade his eyes shut and before he knew it he had succumbed to the lure of sleep.
CHAPTER 23
"Aazrio, isn't my father coming to dinner?" Trina stared over her goblet of peach juice, let a frozen slice of the fruit that was floating near the top slip into her mouth. "The soup's getting cold. I know he likes his soup to be blazing hot, especially when we have fresh najah bread. It's his favorite." Aazrio stopped in the hallway
outside of the dining room, leaned in to briefly examine the table from a distance. "Did this loaf come from baker Latouri? He always makes such wonderful breads."
"Yes Kitrina he was here this evening, just before you came in from the stables. The bread was still hot when he dropped it off."
"Come join me, Aazrio." Trina drew her knee up to her chest and pulled a hunk of the warm, yeasty loaf and dunked it in her bowl. The guard glanced down the hallway dutifully before he entered the dining room where Trina sat in a chair next to the head of the table where Aushlin should have been sitting, but wasn't. "It's so good because he puts beer in the dough. It's his own brew too. He makes it himself then adds it right in the mix." She sucked the broth of the soup from the saturated bread then devoured what remained. Tearing off a smaller, more bite sized piece, she repeated the dipping ritual and offered it to the guard.
"Here," she said, leaning over to him, "try it."
Aazrio took the offering, letting the combined flavors of bread and soup mingle on his palate, picking out and identifying each separate spice and herb. "The water he uses for his brew is from the White Springs of the North." Aazrio took a chair next to Trina, watching her as she ate. "That is the taste you find so appealing in his bread."
"So that's what it is? He was always quite guarded with his recipe, even when Clea begged him for it, back when she thought she'd try her hand at baking. That's funny." Trina smiled, tore off another piece of bread. "An ingredient within an ingredient! Even the best kept secrets aren't safe from your expert palate are they Aazrio?"
"And how do you know so much about this baker's secrets Daughter Keystone? His bakery is down in the Marketplace. He opens only on Seventh Day."
Trina looked back to her bowl again, then to her father's, ignoring Aazrio's question. "Perhaps father has lost track of the time. I suppose I'm going to have to go get him myself."
As she moved to get up from her chair, the guard reached for her wrist. "Your father has requested to be in seclusion, Kitrina. He asked that no one disturb him until tomorrow night."