by Miya Kressin
Having witnessed my younger partner destroy our child, I stepped from behind the tree that hid me. “Your light is that of a dying star, fallen son of Aya. Forgive me.” I had no choice; Bas gave me no choice. The blade I held within my hands was released with a prayer. A summoned gust of air propelled the shining dagger across the clearing into his chest, and lightning arced from the sky to the pommel, exploding through his body. “Your poison has burned us all,” I whispered while taking slow steps to Stevanis as he fell. I leaned over his dying form and kissed the bloodied lips that still tingled with the electricity I summoned. I closed his hands around the symbol of his office and offered one last prayer. “Sleep well, my Consort.”
*
“No,” I murmured, coming out of Sesha’s memory.
“Yes. The Oracle cannot let her whims rule her actions. I loved him as Bas loves Aya, but I could not let him get away with his deeds. My Consort raped,” a wayward tear rolled down her cheek, “three women we were to care for. Asha was prevented that injustice, only to lose her life. Two sisters were killed by the priests who believed that vitriol he spewed. Asha took them to the mainland to be buried before bringing the last boat here.”
Looking down at the blood covering the ground and her lap, Sesha shook her head. “Lenai, the third priestess, turned a blade onto herself and crawled to the main temple before expiring. As you came through the Grotto to arrive, I know you saw what our High Priestess has done. She would not heed Bas’ orders, and to save face I said what I must. In response, we are all dying, Daughter.”
I watched dumfounded as the Oracle removed her silver circlet and handed it to me. “Great Mother—” I started before she stopped me with a bloodied finger upon my lips.
“Men’s lust took four priestesses from this world. In our false confidence we took all the men on the island. Yes, all,” she added as I gulped. “We let desire for revenge color an aisling in shades of rage. She demanded justice; we declared retribution. That which defiled our maidens, both in speech and physicality, was removed.”
Her words invoked memories of the bloodied men in the Grove, their tongues and manhoods cut from their bodies. “And now, Sesha?” I braved a question in the brightly lit chamber.
“Their ignorance and our pride have destroyed our magic. We have lost balance, Child. Bas and Aya have abandoned us, Roseen. They remain in the hearts of believers on the main land. She says we’ve destroyed ourselves, and we have. My blindness to my own heart allowed me to slaughter my sons and daughters, even if was not my hand that held the blade.”
Her hands folded over my heart, the coldness of her fingers shocking me. “She is still in you, Roseen. She keeps you as Her priestess still. You are not bloodied like we are.” If only she knew. “Our time has ended. Sheelin is fading from your realm. The last of our magic is taking us out of existence. You, though, my little dreamer, can carry on our works. You can begin again all that the first tried to.”
She gave me my tasks over the next several minutes, and in a final act of love, dry, velvety lips brushed across my forehead. “I give to you the knowledge of those who wore this crown before you. May you temper it with the wisdom you were born with and that you have gained in the world.” Sesha reached down beside her for the black leather book that belonged to every Oracle to walk Sheelin’s shores. “Bas, if You will hear my final prayer, I give to You the next Oracle. My service has ended.”
With a heavy heart and mind, I ran from Sesha. When she told me Sheelin was falling apart, she meant it. The throbbing I’d felt, the heartbeat of my home, was dying. Its heart was cramped with the black blood in which it had been drenched.
“Reinstate the Goddess,” she’d charged me with. The priestess I had been when I left here before groused at being given such a task. For Sheelin, for Bas, and for all the sisters who had raised me, I would bring back the priesthood. In Bas’ name I would find a way to live side by side with ministers of the new regime, or sway them to give us a peaceful refuge to worship in solitude. Pity the man, even Cade, who tries to stop me.
Sheelin was crumbling apart beneath my feet as I reached the Grove. The priestess continued her chants, her voice hoarse as she now gave magic to hold the land together long enough for me to flee.
“May Annwn bring you peace, Lady,” I called in hopes my words would reach the High Priestess within her prayers.
Thorny vines wrapped tight around the trees as I passed them, barring the way behind me. When I left, I could not return, even if Sheelin were visible to all who searched. Cresting the last ridge before commencing my descent to the beach, my heart stopped. Smoke rose from Madani. Even across the vast waters, I could see the fire rising.
Chapter Fourteen
If only I had been faster, Bas; if only I had answered the calling faster, perhaps I could have saved them. There are no words, Lady of the Shadows, for the darkness in my heart this day. To You and Aya I lift my voice in prayer for guidance.
Show me the way.
Grimoire of the Goddess, Forty-Eighth and possibly final Oracle of Bas
My ink smudged across the page from my tears. I refused to believe that I could be the final Oracle. I would start a new temple. I could do it. Cade, as a smith, could take on the mantle of a priest. We could do this together.
Liand would not win. I denied him.
“I deny you!” I yelled to the dark sky. My grief was still raw, and the misty rain stung where it touched.
While my heart and soul blazed with flames reaching the sky, my ritual fire’s embers were naught but cold ashes. My time on Sheelin had taken two, if not three days in Madani. While I was away, Liand’s men marched on my people.
Liand’s Divide was no more.
The last city standing against the new regime had fallen. Five days travel by horse cart would take me to the first village outside his control. Those Madani natives loyal to the old ways could restart there.
No! Bas cried within me. Save them here where their blood has been shed. This is their home. Your home. Do not run, Oracle. Heed My voice. I speak through you now. You are Goddess-voice, and the Goddess says Madani will rise again under the old banner.
I would resurrect my people like the mythical phoenix from its ashes. The ashes of Aya’s forge would nestle the ember of our heart’s fire for years. My sweat, tears, and blood would bring new life to their veins. Together, we would purge Madani of the intruders.
I just had to get to Cade first.
My mind was still reeling from watching Sheelin simultaneously dissolve into sea foam and sink beneath the waves, a shimmer of its magic catching in the moonlight. In Heartspace, that place one sees the world from when wishing, I could still feel Sheelin’s thrum of magic. She was still there but gone all the same.
Not gone, however, were the whispers. “I do not recall that rock.” “Feel the real sun.” “The best time to attack is at moonset.” The moment I reached my cove, needing to catch my breath before attempting to infiltrate the military controlled town, Sesha’s memories overwhelmed me. I saw everyone’s lives. It was as if the Oracles compressed the entire holy library into one living compendium. My brain was full and had to somehow recompartmentalize my own memories, ones that were now trivial in comparison to the knowledge and wisdom I held.
Forty-seven women’s combined memories called out in greeting as I snuck to the edge of town. Old conceptions blurred as they were overlaid with what my eyes took in, like a map being rewritten. Where a line of oaks and ash once stood, a stone wall crumbled and smoldered from war. I was the librarian of vast tomes of knowledge, and my books needed new scribes to correct passages no longer valid. I was the first Oracle to leave Sheelin once crowned.
“Can you feel my fire?” Tristynce cooed in the back of my head. She was a priestess of both Aya and Bas, doubly marked. I knew her from the histories. “I know you’ve called down my fire before. Now do it with my knowledge.”
Her daughter, her true flesh and blood, sung in my veins. “New Oracle, f
eel us. I walked the other realm unlike any other. Let us show you. Open your thoughts to us.”
I opened and a new world appeared. Shades of black and white overtook my vision. Black space where I could not walk, gray where I could, white for sleeping minds. If I focused, I could see inside their thoughts. Awake people showed in shades of pink, the healthy shade of a baby’s cheeks. Their thoughts were harder to perceive, but with a moment of intent I could bypass their protections.
It was a skill long forgotten by the clergy, but dreamwalkers had been able to do it before, and now I knew how. No pink lights flared within my mind, and I used the emptiness to walk into the city unafraid of what awaited. No living person could surprise me now as I walked the realm between both worlds.
I was rounding the marketplace when my heart broke. The breadmaker’s wife lay across the display table, loaves of bread bloodied beneath her. Avarin, beside her on the ground, held a sack of wheat to his chest, blood frothing upon his lips. A white mind turned to the softest pink glow; he had not long in this world. Seeing me, his eyes went wide with relief.
Lips parted, trying to speak, and I slid between the two tables to kneel beside him. Prying off the sack, I saw his front was covered in blood. Too much had been broken.
“Rest, and I can heal you.” I was not sure I could, but I had to try.
“No, little Rose. Too late. Just make it stop hurting.” Our tears mingled on his bloody cheeks as his cold fingers tightened on mine. “I-I-was wrong. Save us.”
I focused on his words as I reached inside him with my magic. His heart labored to keep his chest rising and falling with fresh blood. “Rest well, Avarin, baker of Madani’s finest bread.” I closed off his ability to feel any pain.
“Not rising properly, Little Rose.” His hand fell away from mine, leaving the two coins I had given for my breakfast just days ago. “Live well, Priestess.”
I sat there as his eyes closed, held onto his arm long after he stopped breathing and had chilled to my touch. When I could finally drag myself from Avarin’s side, I was numb with terror. If they could do this to the breadmaker, what would I find when I arrived at the forge?
Step by step, I dodged down streets where no one walked. I felt out the empty spaces and stayed to them. Finding no awake mind near the forge, I was unsurprised to find it empty. Praying he had been selfish, I ran for the curing house and pried open the cold cellar door. Swords lined the walls surrounding the ladder, and a note sat upon the table beside a metal rose and handful of wilted petals.
*
They’re coming, Roseen. Liand has ordered me to be taken to Lorilindo to make the sun sword. Save Madani. If anyone can, it’s you. Until we meet again, in this life or in the next.
Yours,
Cade
My scream was inhuman. I felt Bas calling out for Her fallen priestesses, Aya for His priests, and the world crying for the deaths about to occur. Lightning crackled in response to my pain. Dead. I wanted any of Liand’s men inside Madani dead.
“For your mate, Daughter.” Bas’ voice mingled with that of Tristynce’s.
Seventeen bolts of lightning dropped from the clouds, brilliant purple light filling my sight as seventeen minds stopped existing. I would rain destruction down on any who stopped me.
I was going to win this war, and they would need asylum from me.