The Prophecy (Children of the River Book 1)

by Ren Curylo

  Chéile dressed herself in her finest Eflin gown and straightened her hair. Standing in front of her nightstand to block Ársa’s view, she slid open the drawer and stuff her doll of him into the pocket of her voluminous skirt. Turning to him with a radiant smile that almost lit her icy eyes, she said with almost a purr, “Ársa, my darling, could you bring the box beneath my bed along with us?”

  “Sure,” he said. He quickly pulled the beautifully carved box out into view. “What’s in it?” he asked, starting to open the box.

  Chéile laid a slim hand on his, stalling his movement. “Come now, dearest, a girl has to have a few secrets, doesn’t she?”

  He held the box with one hand against his chest and offered her his other. “Are you ready, my queen?” he asked.

  “Absolutely,” she said, taking his hand and squeezing it for added effect.

  Nalin 4, 762 Na Réaltaí

  Chéile Ársa Traveled Chéile to Na Réaltaí, taking her to Infirmary 7, where she now sat, alone, while he was in the outer waiting area, talking to his chief medical officer, someone he called Grannus.

  Chéile felt jittery and nervous, but excited. She looked around the room, taking it all in, more as a way to distract herself than curiosity. She didn’t know what to expect from this process. Would it hurt? How long will it take? Would she be awake for the whole time? What kind of a goddess will I be?

  The room was cold, but she wondered if it only felt that way because it was so grey and austere. Everything seemed to be made out of metal or tile. The walls were covered in slick squares of shiny grey tiles as were the floors. There was a counter along one wall with a sink on one end. The counter and sink were both made of gleaming steel. There were steel cabinets above and below the counter for storage. I wonder what’s in there? She slid off the hard, tall bench she was sitting on and padded across the room, her soft leather slippers making no sound on the cold floor as she moved. Her fingers curled around the handle on the cabinet door over the small sink and she was about to pull it open when she spied a small object mounted on the wall in the corner. It was pointed right at her. She looked at it and noticed a red light blinking like a malevolent eye staring into her soul. It made her uncomfortable though she had no idea what it was. She put her hand down at her side and went back to the bench where she had been sitting.

  I have a lot to learn about this place, she thought as she looked around at the long strips in the ceiling that illuminated the room. She had never seen lights like those before either. At home, they used lamps fueled by scented oils.

  A raised voice outside the door caught her ear and she turned toward it, listening keenly. It was Ársa’s voice. While he wasn’t yelling, he had spoken more sharply than before. She strained to hear and could faintly pick up another man’s voice as well. She wished she had her scrying bowl with her. Can I scry from here? I’ve never been able to see into rooms here. I wonder if that will be the same if I initiate it from here. She cautiously moved closer to the door hoping to hear some of their conversation.

  She leaned against the wall pressing her ear to it, closing her eyes in concentration. Her fingers accidentally grazed a small button on the wall near the edge of the door. She peered intently at it for a moment before she realized it was now blinking. She pressed it and hoped that it wouldn’t sound buzzers and alarms that would bring Ársa’s entire crew here. Oh, well, if it does, I’ll plead ignorance. I have plenty of that when it comes to this place. There was a slight swooshing noise and the voices outside the door came through as clearly as if she were standing beside the speakers.

  She recognized Ársa’s voice readily enough. “I don’t see why you’ve an issue with it, Grannus. It’s not against our rules.”

  “We’ve not brought in an outsider in millennia, Ársa,” a man’s voice responded. He sounded older than Ársa. Chéile assumed he must be Grannus, the medical officer of Na Réaltaí.

  “I checked the rules before I called you,” Ársa said. His tone was stubborn.

  “And this isn’t something that needs to go to Council for a vote?”

  “No,” Ársa said. “Here, look.”

  There was a pause; Chéile assumed the older man was reading something.

  He sighed.

  “Will you run the tests? Or show me how to do it?”

  “I’ll do it Ársa, you’re my commander. I have to do it, don’t I?”

  “I’m not ordering you, Grannus. I’m asking you, as my friend.”

  “Ársa, this seems pretty spur of the moment to me. Don’t you think you should think it over?”

  “I’m sure, Grannus,” he said.

  Chéile smiled. She reached her hand into her dress pocket and stroked the little doll hidden there. Her heartbeat quickened.

  Another sigh. “I will do it, as I said. But, Ársa, when you find out this was a big mistake you’re going to have to deal with the consequences. This process is so hard to reverse that it’s considered impossible. The side effects from any attempt at reversal could be devastating.”

  “I don’t see reversal in the future,” Ársa said.

  “I have an uneasy feeling about this.”

  “Duly noted,” Ársa said. “It’s not like it will be for her how it was for us, old man. We went through this a long time ago.”

  “It won’t be the same for her because our capabilities aren’t the same as they were before we left the old world.”

  “And our technology has improved since we went through The Alteration.”

  “I assume you can run the preliminary tests on your own, Ársa. You are familiar with the machines in there. Do you need help with the blood test?”

  “No, I can do all this part. I’ll call you when we’re ready for the final portion of The Alteration. Which infirmary shall I take her to?”

  “Infirmary 1,” Grannus said. “I’ll meet you there when you’re finished here.”

  “Thank you, Grannus,” Ársa said.

  Chéile heard a movement and panicked. She didn’t want to be caught eavesdropping. She slapped the button on the wall and ran back to the bench. She slid to a stop and flopped into the seat just as the door slid open, framing Ársa’s broad shoulders. He smiled at her. She returned the gesture nervously.

  Her hand trembled as Ársa took it in his. “Are you nervous?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Yes. I don’t know what to expect. Is it going to hurt?”

  “Not much,” he said. “I’ll go over the process with you before we begin.”

  “Good,” she said.

  “First, I’ll need some of your blood to do tests, cultures—to make sure you don’t have any infections or parasites or anything that will degrade The Alteration. It doesn’t hurt, maybe just a sting when I prick your finger.”

  “Just a prick? That’s a relief. I was afraid you’d have to cut me open or something.”

  Ársa laughed. “It doesn’t take much to run the tests we need, so there’s no need for that. Back many, many decades ago, it took a couple of teaspoons for these tests. Our technology has advanced a great deal since those times. Now, it only takes a few smears to get all that information and more.”

  “Is this to see if I’m ill?”

  “Yes, it tests for illnesses, bacteria, and other infections. It will only take a few moments. Are you ready to begin?”

  Chéile nodded. “I’ve been ready a long time,” she said.

  Ársa looked at her sharply. “What?” he asked.

  Chéile drew her breath in with an audible gasp. “I mean it feels like I’ve been in here alone for an eternity,” she said hastily. She stuck her hand into her pocket and fondled the small doll hidden there.

  Ársa stepped over to the silver sink and pressed a button. Water gushed from the faucet. Chéile’s eyes widened as she watched the water flow. “Oh,” she breathed. “It’s like magic.”

  Ársa glanced over his shoulder at her. “I forget that you don’t have running water like this on Lerien.”

  Chéile
looked around the room. “You have a lot of things here we don’t have on Lerien,” she said.

  Ársa nodded and lathered his hands with soap from a tiny spout sticking out of the wall. “A lot of us wanted to give Lerien a more modern way of life,” he said, “but unfortunately, that didn’t happen. At any rate, I’m sure you’ll find the accommodations here to your liking once you get accustomed to them.”

  Chéile smiled charmingly at him. “I already like it here,” she said.

  Ársa dried his hands with small squares of paper. He stuffed the used papers into a hole in the counter that she hadn’t noticed before. He opened a cabinet door beneath the sink and pulled out some thin gloves. They were deep, bright purple. Chéile watched him put them on, popping them slightly to adjust the fit.

  “What is that for?” she asked.

  “These are to make sure I don’t contaminate your test results by adding any foreign particles of my own.” Ársa stepped over to the shiny metal counter and opened a cabinet door above the sink. A small box sat inside with a slit at the bottom. Chéile could see some little packets inside. Ársa took one and closed the door again. From the next door over, he pulled out a similar packet, just as flat as the first one but overall larger. From a door beneath the sink, he pulled out a tray of the same substance as the countertops. He placed both packets on the tray, which he picked up and carried to her.

  Ársa set it on a small stand near the wall and opened the smaller of the two. “Are you left or right handed?” he asked.

  “Right,” she said. “Does it matter?”

  “No, but we generally take the blood from your off hand so there won’t be any issues in case it gets a little tender. It bothers some folks more than others.”

  “Oh,” she said. She offered him her left hand.

  He rubbed her middle finger with the small square he removed from the open packet.

  “It’s cold,” she commented.

  “Yes, but it dries quickly.”

  She watched with interest as he dropped the used wipe onto the tray. He picked up the other packet and drew out its contents. It wasn’t much bigger than the wipe, but was made of more substantial stuff. It was small and oval shaped, less than an eighth of an inch thick, with two small buttons on it. He pressed a button on it and a tiny metal needle popped out.

  “What’s that?” Chéile asked, her eyes widening.

  “This is what I’ll take your blood with.”

  “Have you done this before?”

  “Yes, many times,” he said. “It really won’t hurt.” He gave her a moment before continuing. “Are you ready?”

  She nodded and presented her hand to him once again.

  He took her finger as he had before but this time, he pressed the tiny needle into the area where he had wiped. He pressed the second little button on it and the object blinked and then beeped, barely three seconds later. Ársa pulled the small needle out of her finger and pressed the moist wipe onto it. He pressed the first button again and the needle drew back inside the small device he held.

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it for this part,” he said with a smile.

  “What’s next?”

  He walked over to the counter again and pressed another button. A round cylinder rose with a low hum from inside the countertop. It was silver metal like everything else in the room, Chéile noted. She watched Ársa press some buttons on the top of it.

  “What are you doing?” Chéile asked, moving to stand beside him so she would see better.

  “I’m tying in your name so when Grannus gets the test results in about five minutes, he’ll know who they’re for.”

  “That’s fast.”

  “Yes,” he said. “Just as we once required more blood for these tests, it used to take weeks sometimes to get the results. Now, it’s a matter of minutes.”

  He pressed another button on the top. When the door slid open, Ársa dropped the blood collection tool inside it and closed the lid. Pressing a third button retracted the device into the countertop with a soft whirring sound. Chéile could hear the whirring even after it disappeared from sight.

  “I hope there’s some way I can learn about all this, Ársa,” she said, looking at him, her eyes lit with excitement. “There’s so much to learn.”

  “I’ll make sure you have access to what you need to learn about our history and our life.”

  “What about the next part?”

  “Now,” he said, taking her hand and leading her across the room. “You’ll go stand in here for a few minutes while the machine scans you.” He pressed a button from a small panel, opening a wide door to reveal a dark room. It was small enough that Chéile could have touched the wall on either side of her just by stretching her arms out. The ceiling was a foot above her head, but no more.

  “What happens here?”

  “This is a scanner. It will look at every part of you to make sure you’re healthy and can withstand The Alteration. It doesn’t hurt. Nothing will touch you.”

  “What if I’m sick?”

  “We cannot proceed if you’re ill. You’d have to be treated and cured of any diseases or disorders first.”

  “What becomes of those who weren’t cured first?”

  “That doesn’t happen anymore,” he said. “Early on in our process of alteration, we had a lot of problems and side effects. Now, we don’t have them. We still use this procedure to make sure nothing has gone wrong with anyone in The Envoy and repair any damage that may have been inflicted by injuries or contact with diseases from Lerien.”

  “What do I do?”

  “Stand in the center there. See the mark on the floor? Put your toes even with that, but first, you’ll need to remove your gown and your jewelry.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him.

  “Chéile, you’ve already shown me how you look naked, so don’t get shy now.”

  “I wouldn’t want you to take advantage of me,” she said, but she was more worried that he would look through her pockets and find her Ársa doll than anything he would physically do to her. She moved to the bench where she had been sitting and removed her gown and carefully laid it on the bench, making sure to fold it so that the pocket was on bottom. Worried that the doll would show through as a lump in the soft fabric, she bunched it up a bit over it to disguise its presence. She lifted her hair for Ársa to unclasp the finely wrought, delicate Elfin silver chain from her neck. The pendant at the end was a heart shaped diamond encircled by sapphires and rubies. It had been Caolán’s mother’s. He had given it to her as a wedding gift, but after the way his people had stripped her of her tiara, she had no doubt he would have done the same with the necklace. She held it in her hand for a moment as deep anger brought by humiliation welled in her breast. She turned to Ársa and pressed it into his hand. “Is there a safe place we can lock this away?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he said. “I have a safe in my office. No one has access to it but me.”

  She nodded. “Is there anything special I need to do in there?” she asked, indicating the small room.

  “Just stand in the middle, love,” he said. “Stand still. The scanners will hum and vibrate a little, but they are harmless. The whole process will take about five minutes. It will scan you from all angles, even the souls of your feet. It’s important that you stand as still as you can.”

  “All right,” she said. She kicked off her soft slippers and strode into the room. She placed her feet on the indicated strip and nodded at Ársa. He pressed a button and closed the door, sealing her inside.

  It wasn’t as dark as Chéile had expected it to be. She closed her eyes as the hum of the machine started, but moments later she opened them. There was faint light emanating from obscure areas on the walls. It shifted and changed, moved around her like a living thing given flight. She didn’t find it in the least unpleasant or uncomfortable and it was quickly over. The instant the door slid open, her eyes immediately went to her clothing. She breathed a sigh of rel
ief for it looked as if they had not been touched.

  “You can get dressed,” Ársa said. “The results are being formulated and they will be sent to Grannus is a few minutes.”

  “What will we do in the meantime?” she asked, as she slipped her gown on.

  “We could go to my quarters,” he said.

  “All right,” she agreed. “But we can’t do anything until we’re married. I am not about to let you out of the bargain now. The trap must be set before you get any part of what you want.

  “We’ll Travel there,” he said, taking her hand.

  She shook her head. “No,” she said hastily. “Let’s just wait here.”

  He looked at her, puzzled. “All right, but why?”

  She shrugged.

  “You don’t trust me?”

  She smiled. “I don’t have a lot of faith the word of men right now,” she said.

  “Ah, I can see why. That’s fine. We can stay here.” He snapped his fingers and a chair appeared behind him. He sat in it and indicated that she could take a seat on the bench.

  She looked at him questioningly but didn’t speak.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “Are you ashamed of me?”

  “No,” he said. “Why should I be?”

  “You wanted to Travel to your quarters rather than walking. I wondered if perhaps you didn’t want your crew to see me.”

  “My Envoy will see plenty of you as soon we’re done here. They’ll all be welcome to see us wed, Chéile. I just don’t need any unnecessary questions or opinions ahead of time.”

  “I’m sure they’ll think you’re acting too quickly,” she remarked, remembering Grannus’ comments.

  “They may,” Ársa said noncommittally. “Do you have any questions about the process?”

  “How does it work?”

  “It changes you on a genetic level,” he said. “It’s a complicated process. I don’t think I can make you understand it.”

  “Is it painful?”

  “No, not anymore. I think it used to be, back before I went through it. I know there were some real disasters in the early stages of development, but it’s been a sound process for quite some time.”