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The Prophecy (Children of the River Book 1)

Page 43

by Ren Curylo


  Tonight, she decided, she would make some real effort since she was feeling better, more like her old self. She wanted to will away the discomfort this pregnancy was causing her. Now, she wanted to get back to her routine, and that included knowing who Ársa was with every minute she could.

  What will help me find him? She looked around her room and saw her collection of handmade dolls. Valuing the secrecy of them, she kept the shelf veiled so that no one entering would see them. To the casual visitor, they would see a shelf full of knickknacks and nothing more. Her scrying bowl and potions were well protected alongside the dolls. She was the only one who could see them as they truly were. Where is Ársa? She frowned at the dolls lined up on the shelf. They were all there, except Ársa. Chéile’s heart pounded in her throat and her ears. Her mind raced as she tried to place the last time she had seen it. Where could it be? It can’t be gone. I don’t even know when I saw it last.

  In a fevered panic, she tore through every pocket and box, desperately searching everywhere it might fit, frantically looking for her Ársa doll. In crushing defeat, she conceded its loss and went to her dressing table to sit in the chair and cry. How could you have lost it, you fool? Where could it be? When is the last time you had it?

  Oh, well, she thought at last, no help for it. I’ll just have to make another one.

  She dragged out her craft box and set to making another Ársa doll. It took her hours to accomplish and it was nowhere near as good as the first one she had created. She began casting her magic over it, linking it to Ársa. Each attempt ended in disappointment for she never felt the link connect. No wonder he’s been so independent lately. He’s been attentive to a degree, but not like before. I’ve lost control of him and something is blocking me from making a new charm of him. I have to find that damned doll.

  She returned to her scrying bowl and tried one last time to connect to Ársa. She succeeded this time. She found him, shirtless, in a dimly lit room that was no doubt on Lerien in some low-class human village, not unlike the one she had found Máel in when she had gone in search of lalin sik. It was squalid and the sight of it made her shudder. What is wrong with him to want to be with these horrible creatures in the horrible places they’ve created?

  As her vision cleared, she could see him better. His pants were unfastened and drooping at his narrow waist. He was in someone’s arms; someone who had her pale, white legs wrapped around him. The woman had a tumultuous tumble of raven hair that obscured her face. They were kissing and locked in a passionate embrace.

  Chéile’s stomach churned as a heated flush flooded from her chest into her neck and face as she watched him pick the woman up from the table where she sat and carry her to a ramshackle bed in the dim room.

  She screamed in rage and shook the bowl, spilling liquid onto the backs of her hands, clearing the vision completely. Erish. The first thought that entered her mind was the Lilitu queen, and it renewed her desire to find the bitch and bring her to justice.

  4 days later Nalin 17, 763

  Blackdale Province Cardosa, Lerien

  Ársa All morning, something had nagged at Ársa, and he couldn’t quite figure out what it was or why. He had been in Corath and suddenly had had an oppressive urge to Travel to Blackdale, the southernmost province on Cardosa. He Traveled there, immediately, not knowing exactly where he should go or whom he needed to focus on. He came solid in a wooded area, but the ground here was rocky and volcanic, and the forest was more shrub than tree.

  He looked around to get his bearings and maybe some idea of what to do next. Having no context clue to go on, save the poor excuse for a forest here, he focused on Moriko. Perhaps his feeling of unrest and distress came from her.

  He almost instantly felt himself drawn. He gave in to the feeling and allowed himself to Travel wherever it took him. The first thing he heard was voices, raised in anger. Female voices and he knew them both.

  “Why can’t you leave my husband alone?” Chéile said. “I haven’t touched your husband. I haven’t seen him for weeks,” Moriko replied. “It’s not my fault you can’t keep him at home.”

  “You lying, cheating little whore, I should tear you apart.”

  “You just come on and try,” came the irascible reply. “I’ll put an arrow between your shitty eyes.”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” Chéile said. “I’m going to burn your forests, each and every one.”

  “Like you did to the Lilitu Grove?” Moriko snarled.

  Chéile laughed. “That was a double score for me, wasn’t it? I got a forest and your precious Fae in one shot.”

  “If you keep attacking my Fae I’ll kill you, Chéile,” Moriko said. “It’s within my rights to do so and the only reason I haven’t is because of Ársa. For some reason, he won’t set you aside.” Ársa moved forward, alerting them both to his presence.

  Chéile was surprised to see him, though Moriko didn’t seem to be.

  “You two stop it,” he said. “Chéile, what are you doing here?”

  “I came to have it out with your mistress,” she said.

  Ársa said, “She isn’t my mistress,” at the same time that Moriko declared the same thing.

  “Ársa, get this crazy bitch out of here, I’ve had enough of her.”

  “Chéile, go home,” Ársa said.

  “No,” Chéile said stubbornly. “And leave you here with her? Are you crazy?”

  “If you don’t go of your own accord, I’ll send you there.”

  “And please tell her to leave my Fae alone, Ársa,” Moriko said coldly. “I will kill her if she keeps this up.”

  “She can’t kill me,” Chéile said, looking at Ársa. “I’m immortal just like you.”

  Ársa shook his head grimly. “I’m afraid she can. Even immortals can be killed. You won’t die of old age but you can be killed and you can die of illness or injury.”

  “What?” Chéile was clearly unhappy with this news.

  “It’s almost the same as when you were an ordinary old Elf,” Moriko said with a tiny bit of taunting and gloating in her tone. “Only slightly better. Elves live a long, long time, but they aren’t immortal like us or the Fae.” She pointed between herself and Ársa, making them a group that excluded Chéile, once again.

  Chéile narrowed her eyes at Moriko and lifted her hand to strike.

  Ársa stilled her attack with a quick motion of his hand. “Ah, Chéile, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  “Ársa,” Moriko said, turning to her commander with an arrogant expression, “she has twice attacked my Fae. I will abide no further transgressions from her on this score.”

  Chéile shook her head. “The first time I attacked them, they weren’t yet your domain.”

  “And she has at least twice burned my forests, Ársa,” Moriko said. “You had better find a way to put a stop to this behavior or I will have to kill her.” She turned to Chéile and said, “And you cannot use the excuse that they were not my forests when you burned them, you bitch, for they’ve been my forests, always.”

  Chéile lifted her chin defiantly and glared at her rival but said nothing.

  “Go home, Chéile,” Ársa said. “I forbid you to speak to Moriko again. She’s right, you have trespassed on her area more than anyone should tolerate and she would be well within her rights to kill you.”

  “You’re siding with her?” Chéile shrieked. “I cannot believe you’d go against your own wife for this…this…little…”

  Ársa interrupted her. “I go against you because you’re wrong. Who you are has nothing to do with it.”

  “You should side with me because I’m your wife.”

  “Never when you’re wrong,” Ársa said. “Now, go home. I’ll be along soon.”

  “After you’ve had a go at your mistress?” she snapped.

  Ársa rolled his eyes in exasperation.

  “Don’t think I didn’t see you the other night with Erish,” she said. “I saw you, fucking her in some dank, rundown human hovel.�
��

  “What?” Ársa asked, perplexed.

  Moriko laughed.

  Chéile lifted her hand to Moriko again, ready to strike. Before she could land a blow, Ársa waved his hand her way and sent her back to Na Réaltaí.

  He turned to Moriko and said, “I’m sorry, love.”

  Moriko glared at him and said, “Stuff it, Ársa.” She quickly Traveled away leaving Ársa standing alone on the rocky turf.

  After she vanished, Ársa shook his head lamenting how difficult his life felt these days. He could hardly wait until his unborn child was old enough to take over this ungrateful job he had.

  2.5 weeks later

  Tarakal 1, 763 Lilitu Grove

  Adamen

  “I can’t believe my mother picked up and left like she did,” Adamen said.

  “At least we’re getting started on the rebuild,” Skill said. “I’m glad to have you both as friends. I don’t think we could

  do this without your help,” Adamen said.

  “It’s nothing,” Moriko said. She stepped out from behind a

  newly constructed wall in the largest mound. “This one is being a

  bit of a bugger, though, isn’t it? What do you use such a big building

  for?”

  “It’s our stable,” Adamen said. “We keep our males here for

  breeding.”

  Skill laughed.

  Moriko said, “Maybe the world would be better off if we

  locked all the men up and never took them out except for mating.”

  Her tone was clearly disenchanted.

  “The system has good points and bad points,” Adamen said. “Not as many bad points as systems that let men run amok,”

  Moriko said.

  “Are you going to take over as queen in your mother’s

  absence?” Skill asked.

  Adamen shrugged. “I suppose I will when the time is right.

  It’s up to the grove, however, and things are moving forward for

  now. They haven’t mentioned declaring a new queen.”

  “That’s because you’ve stepped in to be their leader,

  Adamen,” Moriko said.

  “Yeah,” Skill said, “you’re the queen without the title.” “That’s all right with me,” Adamen said.

  “I think we should gather your Lilitu and as many other Fae

  races as we can, and join our abilities to protect this grove when it’s

  rebuilt,” Moriko said.

  “I think we should do it now to keep anything from ruining

  our progress.”

  “I agree,” Adamen said. “In fact, I have issued a decree that

  we’re to have a Barrier Party tomorrow. Skill has helped me spread

  the word, and we’d like you to be here, as well, Moriko. Will you

  help us?”

  “Of course I will.”

  “Can you invite others of your people to help us?” “I will. I know quite a few who will be happy to help us

  throw up a shield in this area. We don’t want to give Chéile the

  opportunity to come back and burn it out again.”

  “Who will you call?”

  “I will start with Anoba, and Oseyan and his sister Gealach,”

  Moriko said. “There are quite a few others who will come, too.” “I’ll get the troop to start work on a feast,” Adamen said, “so

  we can feed everyone after the barrier is in place. With that many

  folks pitching in, it should be as safe as we can possibly make it.”

  1 month later

  Agmen 5, 763

  Nur Province, Antus

  Erish A scritch-scratching noise awoke Erish in what, she assumed, was the middle of the night. Total darkness always blanketed this part of the cave, making it difficult to guess time. She sat up, listening, straining her eyes toward the mouth of the cave that, in daylight, was just as dark, due to the winding tunnel leading from this cavern to the entrance. There was nothing to indicate what conditions were outside. It had been dusk when she arrived, and she had been lying down a few hours, hoping to rest.

  Erish’s heart pounded in the darkness as she sat, in frozen stillness, holding her breath, listening for any sign she wasn’t alone. She softly inhaled, careful not to utter a sound as she did so, sniffing for any smells that didn’t belong.

  After minutes of being on guard and silently checking out her surroundings in the confines of the small cave, she relaxed. She gingerly, soundlessly felt the rock floor of the cave beside her bedroll for the cudgel she carried with her everywhere. She muttered a few words, softly, barely audible under her breath and the end of the cudgel lit with Faerie fire, bathing the softly rounded cavern in a faint purple glow. It was dim enough not to disturb the nest of raccoons who shared the space with her, but it was bright enough that, with her Fae vision, she could see if any intruders lurked within.

  She relaxed a little and lay back in her makeshift bed after long minutes seeing or hearing nothing. She left the light on the cudgel glowing for a few more minutes as she lay awake, thinking about her next course of action. For the last three months, she had lived life on the edge, always on the run, always hiding out. She awoke every morning wondering if today would be her last day alive. Wondering if today would be the day when Chéile finally caught up with her. And killed her. She had tried to reason with her attacker during their first few encounters, confrontations that Erish had barely escaped from with her life. Chéile wasn’t about to listen to anything Erish had to say. She was emotionally invested in the lie Muirgan had told her. She was convinced the Lilitu queen had had an affair with Ársa. In fact, she was convinced it was still going on.

  Erish shook her head in disbelief. She had met Ársa less than half a dozen times, all on business. She hadn’t seen him in quite some time—not since he had agreed to appoint a guardian to watch over the Fae. She had considered contacting Moriko for help with this matter, but she had, at last, decided against it. After the first month, she determined it would be pointless, because if there was anyone Chéile hated more than she did Erish herself, it was Moriko.

  Another scuffling sound drew Erish’s attention from her thoughts and brought her crashing back into reality. Footsteps—she heard footsteps, she was certain. It was definitely someone walking through the puddle that collected drips from the tunnel’s ceiling. She doused the light on her cudgel, curled her fingers around the smooth, polished wood, and pulled it onto her lap. She felt around in the darkness for her boots and hastily slipped them on.

  T here wasn’t time to gather her bedroll and escape so she settled for merely snagging the strap on her backpack and slinging it over her shoulder. If she survived, she decided, she’d come back in and gather her things later.

  The backpack was the most important thing she owned, aside from the cudgel. It had the little bit of money she had left, money she had stolen from the last town she passed through.

  Erish crawled toward the back of the cavern, in the opposite direction from the tunnel, until she bumped into the rough, rock wall. The noise in the front tunnel was growing closer. It was faint, but she could smell the creature now and she was certain it was Chéile.

  She briefly thought about trying to Travel out, but she had, far too many times, failed at that when Chéile was nearby. Had Chéile cast a spell or something to stop her? I don’t know what the extent of her power is, but she always seems to find me easily enough. Once, when Erish had tried to Travel away, she had landed close behind Chéile and it had nearly cost her her life. Now, she was overly cautious about using that ability when Chéile was present.

  The former queen of the Lilitu put her hand out to feel along the wall at the floor of the cave while she crawled on her knees, using her other hand for support and balance. She suppressed the urge to whine in fear.

  Erish’s chest heaved with her terror, though she tried to steady her breath. She could feel the muscles in her legs start to shake and her stomach roiled
from the tension. Her mouth thinned into a line, downturned at the corners and a twitch started in her right cheek. She felt the whine rise in her chest again, as she hurriedly tried to find the crack at the back of the cave that marked the hidden passageway leading to a smaller chamber. She knew that even if Chéile found it, she wouldn’t be able to get inside it. It was her only hope to avoid being found by her adversary.

  Her fingers found the spot at last, as a faint glow illuminated the wider mouth of the main entrance to the cave. Erish’s enemy was no more than a bend or two down the tunnel. She could smell Chéile better as she approached.

  A sing-song voice echoed down the tunnel making Erish’s heart thud hard in her chest. “Where are you, little Queen?” Chéile sang.

  Erish stuck her fingers in the crack at floor level and channeled her focus into making herself small—the smaller the better. If she could have gone microscopic, it would have pleased and relieved her. The fissure was barely bigger than her fingers and it grew smaller as it rose toward the ceiling of the cave.

  “I know you’re in here, Erish,” Chéile said. “No point in running from me. I’ve got you cornered now.”

  Erish redoubled her efforts to focus on her Fae ability to shrink her size. She was never overly good at that particular talent. She could render herself invisible but if someone touched her, they would feel her and she knew that Chéile wouldn’t leave without exploring every inch of the cave. Her only hope was to squeeze herself down small enough to hide in this crack and wait until the goddess left.

  “Save us both a lot of trouble, Erish and come out and face your punishment.”

  Erish’s chin quivered as she closed her eyes and tried again to shrink herself. She could see, through her closed eyelids, the light in the passageway growing brighter and closer. Chéile’s voice echoed more loudly in the tunnel as she neared the cave.

  The former Lilitu queen felt a pop in the air around her and she knew she had finally made herself smaller. She only hoped she could maintain it until Chéile left the cave. On second thought, if I resume size in that crack, it has to kill me quick. That might be better than living in fear of Chéile forever.

 

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