The Prophecy (Children of the River Book 1)

by Ren Curylo

  “All right,” Aindréas said. He was impressed with his wife’s strength and courage. He turned to go, keeping the precious skin clutched tightly and closely to his body.

  Muirgan stood holding Erish’s hair firmly in her hand pulling her head back until her neck drew taut. She wasn’t about to give the woman a chance to turn the tables. Queen Erish was treacherous and not to be trusted.

  After a long time, Erish said, “Please, can you relax my neck a bit?”

  “No,” Muirgan said, shaking her head. “I can’t allow you any comfort until I’m gone.” She looked around the room and spotted a straight-backed chair near Erish’s dressing table. She led the queen to it and forced her to sit. She tied the woman’s braid to the back of the chair before stepping away. Muirgan stepped to the bed, stripped off one of the silken sheets, and used it to tie Erish to the chair.

  As she secured the woman’s hands, feet, and body to the chair, a knock sounded on the window. Muirgan moved to the window and peeked out in time to see Aindréas disappearing into the woods with her pelt secured to his body along with his own.

  “I’ll be going now, Erish,” Muirgan said. “Think twice before you double cross anyone else. I’ll send an alert to all the Selkies in this world to beware of you and to tell stories far and wide of your duplicity.”

  With Erish securely tied, Muirgan tried the window, thinking that too, had been a lie. When the window did not readily slide open, she picked up the large conch shell sitting on dresser nearby and smashed out the window. She knocked the jagged edges of glass out, climbed out, and headed in the direction she had watched her husband go.

  It took Muirgan more than half an hour to find Aindréas in the woods outside the Lilitu colony. She regretted returning Adamen to her mother, and she felt terribly guilty for the evil about to befall this child. She took her skin from Aindréas as soon as she reached him. She didn’t trust anyone else to look after it, not even her Selkie mate.

  “I think there’s a lake with an underground sea inlet up ahead, maybe an hour’s walk through the woods,” Muirgan said, turning eastward.

  “I think you’re right, Muirgan,” Aindréas said softly. “But I’m not sure we can make it that long underwater. It’s quite a distance. We may drown.”

  “If we can’t make it, it will be a long, long walk to the coast and it’s dangerous. Some of the Fae creatures here are more treacherous than the humans are. I think swimming is worth the risk.”

  “I’m worried we can’t stay underwater for such a long time; it’s a good two-hour swim through the channel to the sea,” Aindréas said.

  “And it’s a four-hour walk at least, over dangerous ground among even more dangerous animals. Besides, there’s a cavernous area in the tunnel where we can get air. It’s about halfway, so all we have to do is swim underwater an hour. We’ll take a break, and get our breath before swimming the rest of the way.”

  “It’s risky.”

  Muirgan sighed, exasperated. “Aindréas, you do as you please. I’m going to take the tunnel. If I don’t make it, I don’t make it. I won’t allow myself to be enslaved by one more of these bastardly land creatures and this is my best chance to avoid it.”

  “All right, Muirgan, I’ll go with you. Better that we die together,” he said.

  Muirgan turned to him with a snarl. “I don’t intend to die today,” she snapped. She glared him into silence before she turned eastward and started her long walk through the hushed and solitary forest.

  He stayed silent as he walked through the woods behind her. After a long time, he said, “What’s that you have clutched in your hand, Muirgan? You’ve have had your fist clenched almost the entire time we’ve been out here.”

  Muirgan stopped. Up ahead she could see the last fading light of day and she knew they were almost to the lake where they could dive to find the tunnel to the sea and freedom. “I almost forgot about it,” she said, opening her hand to look at her palm. She stared at the button she held. “Adamen gave me this,” she said, looking at it. “She said I was to use it to call Ársa to come help her. But how? How does it work?”

  “I don’t know,” Aindréas said, stepping up beside his wife. He gingerly touched it with the tip of his index finger.

  Muirgan felt it grow warmer in her palm. She held it between her thumb and forefinger and concentrated on Adamen. She had no idea if it was what she was supposed to do or not. She closed her eyes and focused her thoughts on Adamen and Ársa. She tried to link them together. She didn’t understand why but it felt right so she continued to think of the two of them while concentrating. She felt all the muscles in her body tremble and shake. Her body temperature rose and she felt hot, sweaty, sticky, and uncomfortable. She began to feel nauseated but she continued to hold the button tightly, thinking of the two lovers.

  After a while, the button grew so hot it began to burn her flesh and she cried out. Smoke rose between her skin and the button but she didn’t let go. How long does it take? Can Ársa hear me?

  The pain grew unbearable and Muirgan cried out, her concentration broken. She opened her fingers and dropped it on the palm of her other hand. The button was glowing red, and smoldering hot as she flipped her hand over, letting the smoking disc slide to the ground. It landed on the dry leaves of the forest floor.

  Afraid it would start a fire, Aindréas stomped on it, hoping to crush out any sparks before they started to burn. The forest floor was dry tinder. He ground his foot over it, and gradually the heat subsided. He moved his foot and the button went from red back to white before it crumbled into grey ash and dust.

  Aindréas and Muirgan frowned at the dust that was once the button for a long moment before speaking. He looked up at her and asked, “Do you think it worked?”

  She shrugged. “I hope so. We can do nothing more for her. We’d better hurry so we can get in the water. It’s almost dark.”

  “It won’t matter if it’s dark out or not, Muirgan,” Aindréas said. “The tunnel will be black as pitch anyway.”

  Muirgan nodded and started for the lakeshore without another word.

  A few hours later

  Nalin 26, 762 Na Réaltaí

  Ársa Spring, in the seven hundred sixty-second year after the end of The Nascence of Lerien, was cold in places and balmy in others. It was blustery everywhere. However, on Na Réaltaí, there was no weather and never had been. It was always the same, neither hot nor cold, nor wet. Na Réaltaí wasn’t the kind of place where one awoke from thunderstorms or ground quakes, for none of those things existed there. No wind, no sun, no rain ever disrupted the quiet filtered hallways and rooms. To maintain a constant, optimal climate, the temperature and lighting were artificial, and machine controlled.

  When Ársa awoke in his bed minutes after midnight with a panicked feeling that made his heart tighten in his chest, he had to wonder why. Had he been on Lerien, his first reaction would have been to listen to outdoor sounds for clues, but here, there were none of those. As he sought to calm himself and direct his attention to why he had awakened, he assessed his condition. His breath rasped in his throat as his eyes came open with a start. His arm was trapped beneath something, but he couldn’t remember what in Ifreann would be in his bed. He knew he was in Na Réaltaí even though it was pitch dark in his chamber.

  He could hear the low hum that permeated every room. His night vision always took a moment to kick in, and while it wasn’t as clear as in lighted areas, he could see well enough to identify objects and people. It was clear sight, though not as acute as his daytime vision.

  His eyes adjusted and he looked to see what trapped him. His wife’s silver hair seemed to glow in the dark. What the fuck have I done? It was a question he asked himself every morning when he awoke with Chéile. Why did I do that? He had a keen sense of buyer’s remorse every morning when he awakened and found her still in his bed, found himself still married to her. She always woke and fondled him until he lost the idea from his head and he took pleasure in her body. The
n, he remembered why he had done what he did and brought her here, made her a goddess, made her his wife, but he felt no less remorseful about it after he was done with her body.

  He checked the time —daylight was still hours away. Lying here in his darkened room, he felt a particularly mournful aspect to his panic. Why is that? He sighed in the darkness as Chéile snuggled closer to him in her sleep. Something isn’t right. I have to find out what. Ársa closed his eyes to clear his mind and focused in on the panic and grief and—what else was there? Fear and terror. Someone he cared for was in danger. But who? His thoughts first leaped to Moriko, and he instantly knew she was fine, wherever she was.

  His mind suddenly filled with Adamen. She was in danger. He keenly felt every emotion she was feeling. It was as if he became her and he had to struggle to maintain himself in his own mind. He had to get to her quickly. Time was valuable and he didn’t have a moment to waste. Ársa started to pop out of Na Réaltaí and go directly to her, but he thought better of it as he remembered he was completely naked. He might find himself at a considerable disadvantage depending on the circumstances he may pop into.

  He, instead, Traveled from his bed into his bathroom. He picked a clean uniform up from the counter where he’d left it. Chéile had joined him in his shower and it had lain there, forgotten after she proved quite a distraction. He slipped it on and went in search of his boots.

  Being able to see in complete darkness was definitely to his advantage, and he went straight to them where they lay on the floor beside the bed. He slipped them on quickly and stood from his seat, ready to find Adamen.

  “Ársa,” Chéile whispered, “what are you doing?” “I’m sorry, Chéile,” he said, “I have an emergency. I have to go.”

  “But…” she protested.

  Not staying to explain, he left instantly, leaving her alone in their bed to wonder what he was doing.

  He heard her call his name even as he wavered, thinned, and vanished.

  He Traveled, being careful to keep his guard up. He was prepared to face anything when he landed. He came solid in a small, low-ceilinged room with a narrow bed in the middle. It was dark in the room, but far lighter than his own had been. He had to shrink his size considerably so he didn’t hit his head on the ceiling. He was careful to Travel while invisible so he could take in his surroundings, assess what was going on and who was here without anyone seeing him.

  “Bring in the midwife,” Erish said. “Also, alert the stable that they’ll receive a newborn within the next four hours. This one is to be terminated immediately.”

  A strangled cry from the bed drew Ársa’s attention and his eyes widened as he recognized a bruised and disheveled Adamen, tied hands and feet to the narrow bed frame. A gag covered her mouth but she railed against her bonds with as much noise and struggle as she could muster.

  Ársa waited while the servant Erish had commanded left the room, and he watched the queen move away from Adamen and walk around the foot toward the doorway leaving him a clear view of the bed. He could see that the thin sheet covering Adamen’s legs was wet and spotted with blood. She was breathing hard and tears streaked her face. Even from across the room, he could see her belly contract with a hard labor pain.

  He didn’t want to start any problems with the Fae by having a confrontation with the Queen of the Lilitu, and he hoped she’d leave the room long enough to allow him to remove Adamen. He held his breath and waited, but he kept a close eye on her. If he had to do this roughly, he would, but he preferred not to. He didn’t know how much time he had, and Adamen didn’t look too good from his vantage point.

  Ársa decided to give Erish a little mental nudge, pushing a thought into her head along with a fierce sense of urgency. The most benign thing he could think to do with her was send her to the toilet. It was a call few could ignore, especially once it reached a critical point. He planted the thought and pushed it a little bit.

  Erish reacted with surprise. She clamped her legs together instinctively and stopped stone still before hurrying toward the door. She stopped at the door and turned back toward her daughter. “If you’d behave I could untie you, Adamen. I simply can’t have you clawing at me and punching people. Your behavior is scandalous. No other female Lilitu has put up such a fuss about giving up her male child. I am ashamed that my daughter is acting like such a fool.” The queen stepped through the door and closed it firmly behind her. A loud click echoed through the chamber as she locked Adamen inside.

  Anger gripped him at Erish’s words to her daughter. He nudged her thought only a little more, just enough for her bowel to relax. The strangled, gasping noise from down the hall made him smile.

  Ársa wasted no further time moving forward to rescue his lover from her bonds. He touched them with a heat that burned the thick ropes through, popping her hands and feet free quickly. He didn’t pause to remove the gag as he scooped her from the bed in his strong arms and instantly vanished from the room.

  He came solid in his house by the sea, standing beside his bed with her clasped tightly in his arms. He laid her gently down and removed the gag. She threw her arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder. He held her silently and patted her comfortingly, though his mind raced with worry about her condition.

  She cried out and clasped her belly with her hands. “This is the most awful thing I’ve ever felt, Ársa,” she said.

  He fetched a glass of water for her and brought a damp cloth to cool her brow. “I’ll call for help,” he said. “I confess I am not much for baby delivery, and you don’t look so good.”

  “I don’t think I am so good,” Adamen said.

  “How did you end up tied up in your mother’s house? I thought you were staying here until the birth.”

  Another pain gripped her body and she couldn’t answer. Ársa turned and walked out of the room. He searched through several pockets looking for his gan-sreang. Finding it at last, he pulled it from his pocket and unfolded it. The device was folded into a square hardly an inch on any side. Once unfolded, it was nearly the size of the palm of his hand and was slightly thicker than a sheet of paper or thin leather. He swiped his hand over the front of it. When it lit up, he tapped and swiped with his finger several more times before finding what he sought. He pressed the surface lightly with his finger and waited.

  After a moment, the screen lit again and man’s face appeared. A male voice said, “Ársa, my friend, what’s up?”

  “If I send you my coordinates, Grannus, can you come to me and deliver a baby?”

  “Certainly, Ársa,” he said agreeably. “I’ll be right there. I need time to get my kit from the infirmary.”

  “Great, I’ll send the coordinates.” Ársa disconnected his gansreang and flipped to another screen where he pressed a teardropshaped icon, which made a series of numbers appear on his screen. He pressed another button and sent them to Grannus before he hurried back to Adamen’s side.

  Moments after taking Adamen’s hand and sitting beside her on the bed, a man’s voice from the other room called to him. “Ársa?”

  “There’s Grannus,” he said to Adamen. “In here, through the door, Grannus,” he called to his visitor.

  The door opened and Grannus entered, looking every bit as disheveled as Adamen did. His white hair stuck out from his head at wild angles before it drooped down to his shoulders. He had a long white, tangled beard that was as wild and untamed as his hair. His mustache was coal black and curled at the ends, growing long and completely covering his mouth. “Get out of here, Ársa,” he barked as he entered the room.

  Ársa stood up, still holding Adamen’s hand. “I’ll be right outside, Adamen,” he said. “Grannus will take good care of you.”

  Ársa closed the door behind him and breathed a sigh of relief. He had never wanted children, and this whole episode made him nervous and slightly sick. He trusted Grannus explicitly and wasn’t terribly worried about the outcome, but the noises from inside his bedchamber began to wear on his nerves. He
paced the floor and his emotional state began to affect the Seirbhíseach staff that lived here with him. Several of them would pass in the hallway to glance in his direction, but he was caught up in his own thoughts and didn’t see their looks of concern.

  It was full daylight and the day was warming as Ársa paced the room. He never noticed when Lessie, his housekeeper came into the room and opened the windows to allow the ocean breezes to cool the house. He didn’t notice when she went into his bedroom and opened the windows in there, either.

  It was not more than an hour later when Grannus opened the bedroom door to signal him to enter, but to Ársa it seemed as if it had been all day.

  “I Healed her so she’s doing well, Ársa,” Grannus said when Ársa stepped inside the bedroom. “The infant is fine, too. I hope you don’t mind if they stay here for at least two weeks. I’d prefer it was a little longer, but she is a strong, healthy Fae and she should be back to normal in no time.”

  “She can stay as long as she likes,” Ársa said. He smiled and waved at Adamen who lay on his bed in utter exhaustion.

  Adamen waved back and gave him a weak smile.

  “I think you should let her rest for an hour or two; she’s apparently been through a terrible ordeal, judging from her condition. I think you should get her to fill you in on how she got wherever it was you found her. Someone is responsible for this. She’s obviously been shackled. She labored for quite some time before I got here. I have instructed Lessie to watch over the baby and care for him. She is to bring him in only for feedings until Adamen is stronger.”

  “All right,” Ársa said, wondering when Grannus had spoken to Lessie.

  “However, I’m going to leave this nursing kit here,” he said, taking a package out of his medical bag. He set it on the side table. “Let’s step out into the other room to talk, Ársa and let her get some rest.”

  “Sure,” Ársa said, looking at the nursing kit. He recognized it as one commonly used on Na Réaltaí, but they weren’t among the things allowed for the inhabitants on Lerien. It was another battle he and Anoba had fought and lost among his Envoy members. There was a strong faction who didn’t want to give the dwellers here any advantages at all.