The Prophecy (Children of the River Book 1)

by Ren Curylo

  She felt herself grow solid again and opened her eyes. Another ragged cry escaped her lips when she realized she still sat in her bed, her Apple Fizz clutched in one hand and her silver bowl as still as glass, sitting on her lap, reflecting nothing at all.

  She screamed and hurled both bowl and glass across the room. The glass smashed against her door and shattered into razorsharp shards. The bowl clattered loudly enough to set her ears to ringing for several moments.

  1 day later

  Imber 14, 763

  Chéile Chéile stayed up all night making a fresh batch of scrying fluid to replace the bowlful she had flung against the door in outrage at finding her husband dancing with his forest guardian. She had used it as soon as it was completed, scrying on Moriko to see if she could pinpoint her location. Since she hadn’t been able to lock in on the house where Ársa was cheating on her with his lover, she hoped she could get to the bitch when she was in another place.

  She set the bowl down on the desk and focused on Moriko, hoping to Travel to her. Chéile was frustrated that her Traveling abilities were not coming along as well as some of the other talents she was developing. But this morning, she felt herself waver right away, which gave her hope that she could go straight to her rival.

  She felt herself become solid and she immediately opened her eyes. She didn’t want to give Moriko any advantage in their exchange. Chéile was managing to stay invisible for a few seconds after she Traveled. She wondered, though, if Moriko could see her even then.

  Moriko sighed and shook her head as soon as Chéile landed. “Why don’t you give it up, Chéile?”

  “I can’t give it up as long as you’re cavorting with my husband.”

  “I don’t ‘cavort’ with your husband, whatever that means.”

  “I see you two together. I know what you do.”

  Moriko laughed.

  “I want you to stay away from my husband,” Chéile spat. She clenched her jaw so tightly the muscles flexed visibly.

  “I haven’t sought your husband out, Chéile,” Moriko said. Her tone was maddeningly reasonable. “I do my job and I mind my own business. Any issues you have, you need to take up with your husband.”

  “While I’m here,” Chéile said with a distinctively catty tone, “I’d like to tell you something.” She turned a bit sideways toward Moriko, though her eyes never left her rival. She pressed her clothing against her stomach. “I thought you’d like to know about this.”

  “I know about that,” Moriko said. “I don’t care about it. It doesn’t affect my life at all, so why don’t you go home and gloat to someone else?”

  Chéile laughed. “I know it gets under your skin.”

  “Look, Chéile,” Moriko said, “I don’t have anything going on with your husband. We’ve been friends a long time. It’s nothing more than that.”

  “He’s in love with you,” Chéile said. Her tone was sharp and hot.

  Moriko shook her head. “He loves me as a friend, nothing more. We’ve never had a physical relationship. Now, go away. I’m busy.”

  Chéile narrowed her eyes at Moriko. She allowed her rage to fill her like spring runoff. “Don’t patronize me,” she snarled. “I’m not stupid.”

  “That’s debatable,” Moriko said.

  “I’ll find a way to keep you two apart if it takes me a million years,” Chéile snarled.

  “Why don’t you concentrate on what you can to do to improve your relationship with him, rather than what you can do to destroy mine?”

  Her reasonable, even tone infuriated Chéile. She wanted to smash Moriko’s face. She narrowed her eyes at the smaller woman and snapped, “You need to learn not to be impertinent to your betters.”

  Moriko laughed again. “Go away, Chéile,” she said, waving her hand as if she were waving away a gnat.

  Chéile stuck her hand out and balled it into a fist, drawing it sharply in front of her, from left to right. Moriko’s legs flew out from under her and she landed on her back with a solid thud.

  Moriko wheezed as the breath returned to her lungs. She shook her head and tried to rise from the unexpected blow. As she struggled to sit up, Chéile used her fist to punch in the air and Moriko flew backward a dozen or so feet, coming to a halt mere inches before striking a tree.

  Moriko growled and narrowed her eyes. Her expression was quite feral as she turned her attention to her attacker. She waved her hand casually through the air and Chéile’s head snapped to one side with an audible crack. The woman shrieked in pain and rage.

  Chéile snarled again and tried to send a bolt of force into Moriko once more, but the smaller woman blocked it easily.

  Before Chéile could prepare another punch at Moriko, the forest guardian rose to her feet and slammed her in the shoulder with a punch so hard it sent her reeling off balance. The tree limbs near her seemed to reach for her as she spun before flying through the air. She landed on her side in the sandy roadway.

  Chéile felt a twinge of pain in her stomach and her hand involuntarily went down to press on her abdomen. “I’m pregnant,” she said with a whine and an accusatory look at Moriko.

  Moriko shrugged. “You should have thought about that before you started this fight. I didn’t come to you, but I won’t back down from you either. You decide if that baby is important enough to you to leave me be or if you really want this fight.”

  Chéile struggled to her feet. Her head was reeling and her vision dimmed. She should Travel away but her pride rose in her chest like a swarm of bees. “You’ll pay for hurting me,” she snarled. “You’ll pay for not leaving my husband alone, you little bitch.”

  “Yeah,” Moriko said derisively. “You just come on back anytime you want your ass handed to you, Chéile. I’ll be happy to oblige.”

  Chéile raised her hand one last time and sent a stinging slap across Moriko’s face, making her jaw pop with the force of it.

  Moriko pushed with both her hands and sent Chéile flying through the air to land flat on her back in a patch of low grass and weeds. As she sailed backward, something small flew away from her body and arced through the air, landing in the brambles a few feet away from her. The briars seemed to reach forward to grab the falling object.

  Chéile cried out from physical pain as well as embarrassment. As she rose to her feet, she felt a driving, clenching pain shoot through her abdomen and fear clutched her heart. I can’t lose this baby. She completely forgot her rival in that moment as she focused on getting back to Na Réaltaí without suffering further damage.

  Moriko stood watching her go without advancing on her further. Her face was impassive as she stared at her until she vanished. Once Chéile was gone, Moriko looked at the spot where the object had landed when it flew from Chéile. She walked over and parted the limbs of the weeds and brambles. She was careful not to snag her flesh on the thorns of the briar as she moved them aside to peer into the bushes.

  There, there it is. It’s too far for me to reach. Moriko put her hand out as far as she could and wiggled her fingers as if beckoning the item to come to her. After a moment, it began to move in painfully slow increments toward her. At last, it was close enough that she could kneel and reach it if she stretched forward. She leaned into the briars a bit too far and felt the thorns pierce her cheeks and her chin. One of the sharp barbs scratched across the bridge of her nose as her fingertips closed around the object. It’s made of cloth.

  Moriko grunted with the effort as she pulled it out, being careful not to snag the fabric on the greedy bramble of thorns.

  What the fuck? It’s a doll. It’s a doll of Ársa.

  Moriko stared at it for some time, trying to decide what she should do with it. She held it in her hands, staring at it. It felt warm and soft and it looked uncannily like him. I have never seen anything quite like it, she thought, before the memory of a woman in the Spiorads came to her. She had met her once, quite some time ago. The woman was a Rootwork priestess. Could this woman still be alive? The overwhelming urge
to protect this doll swept through her. Moriko opened the small bag at her waist where she kept her tent and camping equipment. She placed the Ársa doll inside it.

  1 day later Imber 15, 763

  The Spiorads

  Devil’s Finger Isle

  Moriko Moriko landed on Devil’s Finger as dawn was breaking and the sun crested the water of the salty bay, surrounding the island with a red glow. Devil’s Finger Isle was an oddly shaped island on the north-western end of The Spiorads. Its northeastern shore faced the Afrona Sea. Dragon Isle’s rocky skyline was to the east. The western and southern sides accessed the Jeredian Ocean.

  Devil’s Finger was a large crook of land shaped a bit like a bent, thorny finger. Wide peninsulas jutted out into the Afrona, from above, always reminding Moriko of spikes on the backs of mythological reptiles. She looked around at the beauty of the place that was still so little changed even after all the years it had been since her last visit. She needed to spend more time here, she decided.

  She made up her mind to tour all the islands in the Spiorad chain, due to the early hour of her arrival. She was aware that most folks living in this archipelago operated on ‘island time’, which meant they were never in a hurry to get about their day. Everything happened at a slower pace here than anywhere else on Lerien— except perhaps in her swamp, so she took her time looking around. It was almost mid-morning before she returned to the island that housed her destination.

  Devil’s Finger was the home of a clan of dark skinned women and their few and carefully selected menfolk. Moriko noted that in the two or three decades since she had been here, the village had grown. Groups of scantily clad children played in the open center around which all the huts and houses sat in a widely arcing circle. There had been no children before, and Moriko guessed this would be the third or fourth generation of them since she was here last.

  The children seemed to take no notice of her as she stood and watched them from the shadow of the forest. The banana, papaya, and mango trees would provide big leafed shade from the island sun in mid-day, but now, in the early morning hours, they provided a dark place to hide in solitude. She didn’t render herself invisible, but she didn’t readily reveal herself either as she stood watching the children play, and tried to remember which hut would have belonged to Anahera.

  A child broke free of the group and walked right up to Moriko, not the least intimidated by the presence of a stranger. “Are you Moriko?” the young boy asked.

  “Yes,” Moriko said with a nod. “Granny Anahera is expecting you. She say I bring you to her righ’way.”

  “All right,” Moriko said with a nod. “Where is she?”

  The boy couldn’t have been more than thirteen, but he was already taller than Moriko, who stood right at five feet tall. His skin was as black as Moriko remembered Anahera’s to be. His hair was longish, forming a tightly curled cap for his head. He had a wide smile and dark, lively eyes.

  “She’s expecting me?” Moriko asked with surprise.

  “Granny Anahera always knows when company come,” he said.

  Moriko nodded. “Thank you for showing me the way.”

  He turned and trotted across the village center and took a path through the forest on the opposite side from where Moriko had arrived. The guardian of the forest followed him with no trepidation. She was safe here, far safer than anywhere else and she had no fear anywhere in the world. The only thing plaguing her was Chéile’s incessant popping in to confront her.

  “Has your Granny Anahera moved?” Moriko asked as they wove their way down the trail.

  “She lived in the same hut all mah life,” the boy said. “But me mama say she used to live in town.”

  “Town? You mean your village back there?”

  “Aye,” he said, “that be the biggest thing on the island.”

  “Of course it is, but the last time I was here, it’s where Anahera lived. Of course,” Moriko said, “there were only four other huts here at the time.”

  The boy laughed. “That be long ago, indeed, ma’am,” he said.

  “I guess I should visit more often, eh?”

  “Aye, ma’am,” he said. “We have forests here, too, ya know?”

  Moriko smiled. She was a bit surprised that he knew who she was. “You are right, and I have been neglectful of my duties in this area. I will make sure to rectify that in the future. May I ask your name?”

  “I’m Sunder, ma’am,” the boy said.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Sunder,” Moriko said. “Thank you for escorting me.”

  “It’s me pleasure, ma’am,” he said. “It isn’t every day we get visitors, especially one as important as you. Granny Anahera said you will watch over our forests and they keep us safe. So we should all t’ank ye, ma’am.”

  Moriko smiled. “You’re welcome, Sunder. I think your island is lovely. None of the others are as forested as this one is, for sure.”

  “Aye,” he said with a nod. A proud glow shone on his face as he said, “We careful to always replace any trees we use. We plant trees every year. We want to keep our island foresty. We got plenty of beach, too, so it’s the best of both worl’, my Granny say.”

  “I think she’s right,” Moriko said. She could hear the waves rolling in to shore up ahead, and she could smell the salt in the air as the breeze blew in from the ocean. The waves were seldom as large here as on other islands, though, she knew that in storms they would still be fierce. As they turned a curve in the path, she could see a small grass shack up ahead, close to the edge of the forest. “Is that her place?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Sunder, it’s beautiful here. And food grows everywhere,” Moriko said.

  “You’ll never go hungry when you visit here, miss,” he said.

  “I see that. Look,” she said, “you even have avocado trees.”

  “Oh, those are my favorites.”

  “Hmm,” she said, “mine, too.”

  Sunder grinned at her, displaying big white teeth. He knocked on the door and didn’t wait for a response. He opened it, calling, “Granny? She here.”

  “Come in, Sunder, bring her in.”

  Sunder stepped aside and let Moriko pass. “I’ll be out here to lead you back to the village,” he said.

  “No need, Sunder, but thank you,” Moriko said. “I will be leaving straight from here.”

  “Go gather Miss Moriko some fruits, Sunder. Take my basket there by the door.”

  “Thank you, both,” Moriko said. “That’s thoughtful of you.”

  “Come in, dear,” Anahera said. “It’s been a long time since I saw you. What? Near thirty year?”

  “Every bit of that, Anahera,” she said. “How have you been?” “I couldn’t be better,” the woman said. “Please, sit down.”

  Moriko sat down and watched Anahera prepare a pot of coffee.

  “You look exactly the same, Anahera,” she said.

  The woman was tall and thin. Her skin was ebony, as were her eyes. She had a broad flat nose, a wide full mouth with thick lips. She smiled easily and her face was warm and friendly. Her hair, still ebony, grew in a circle around her head, much as Sunder’s did. Anahera’s was much longer and framed her face with soft, tight, wiry curls.

  “Well, that’s certainly flattering,” Anahera said, bringing two cups of coffee to the table. She set them down and took the seat at the table opposite Moriko. She pulled a flask out of her apron pocket and uncorked it. She poured a healthy draught of amber liquid into each cup. “This is some homemade cherry brandy, Moriko,” she said. “It will warm you nicely.”

  Moriko laughed. “I thank you, Anahera, but it’s not cold out.”

  Anahera laughed with her. “No, but we can always use a little warming for our innards, can’t we?”

  “I suppose we can.” She sipped her coffee and brandy. “Hmm, it’s delicious, Anahera,” she said.

  “As much as I love the company and I’m happy to see you, Moriko, I know you didn’t come all
this way to share a cup of coffee. What’s wrong?”

  “You seemed to know I was coming,” she said.

  Anahera nodded. “I did, but I don’t know why. I do sense there’s something unsavory going on.”

  Moriko briefly explained her relationship with Chéile, without going into too many details.

  Anahera nodded. She was satisfied with Moriko’s story and seemed to notice the intent and emotion of the situation without many words. “That’s unsettling,” she said. “You must always be on your guard with this one. She’s a viper.”

  Moriko smiled with little mirth. “That’s what Anoba calls her, too.”

  “Oh, she’s a nasty one, to be sure, and as time passes, she will have helpers and cohorts. You all should be on your guard against them.”

  “Have you heard of The Prophecy?”

  Anahera nodded. “I have spoken to Pádraigín myself,” she said.

  “Have you?” Moriko asked in surprise.

  “Oh yes, but I have sworn to her not to divulge what I know until the time is right. But I can tell you that you have to watch out for Chéile. If she can find a way to alter your life, she will do it with malicious glee, Moriko.”

  “I have no doubts that you’re right on that score.”

  “But why did you want to see me?”

  “I found this,” Moriko said. She opened her bag and reached inside. After a moment of feeling around, she withdrew the Ársa doll and laid it on the table in front of Anahera.

  The woman’s dark eyes grew round as she looked at it. “May I pick it up?”

  “I assume so,” Moriko said. “I did. I’m still alive.”

  “Where did you get it?” Anahera asked. She picked the doll up tenderly, almost reverently, and looked it over carefully but with an air of respect.

  “It flew off of Chéile in the last fight we had. I slugged her good and sent her backward. I saw it fly through the air to land in a briar patch. It must have been in her pocket. I guess she didn’t notice she’d lost it since she didn’t look for it. She fled and I retrieved it.”

  “This is, who?” Anahera asked, looking at Moriko.