The Prophecy (Children of the River Book 1)

by Ren Curylo

  Erish quickly slipped into the crack and went invisible. Even if Chéile spotted the crack, which was unlikely, she wouldn’t be able to see too far into it, so Erish moved as far up and back in the small space as she could. She had lived in this cavern for at least a week before she discovered this slender crack; she didn’t think Chéile would notice it tonight.

  Erish held her breath as long as she could and let it out slowly and silently only when she had to. She inhaled quietly and held her breath again as Chéile’s light illuminated the cave she had seconds before vacated.

  “I know you’re here somewhere, you nasty bitch,” Chéile said. “You’re hiding with your stupid Fae invisibility.” A whizzing sound filtered faintly into the crack and Erish pressed her tiny self against the rough rock wall as the light strobed past.

  Erish knew, from past encounters with Chéile, that the goddess was swinging her lighted staff through the air around her, hoping to batter the invisible Lilitu with it and disclose her hiding place.

  After a few minutes of furious stick swinging, Erish could hear a hard thwacking sound and knew Chéile was beating the bedroll she had left behind.

  A hissing noise sounded and Erish realized Chéile had found the nest of raccoons. She hoped the woman wouldn’t hurt the creatures. They were wild animals but they weren’t aggressive to her and they hadn’t minded too much sharing their space with her. She had even shared her meager food with them.

  “You have to come out sometime,” Chéile snarled. “Whore.” She shouted. It echoed painfully in the cave and the raccoons answered with frantic chattering. They didn’t like being disturbed this way.

  Erish knew they were normally out at night, but the female had recently had a litter so she was spending more time inside. She wondered how aggressive the creature would be if Chéile went too near.

  “How sweet of you,” Chéile said with heavy sarcasm in her tone. “You’ve donated a shirt to the wildlife you’re living with. They’ve made a nest out of your clothing. Isn’t that precious?”

  Erish heard the mother raccoon growl and chatter a warning at Chéile. The animal’s chatter was followed by a thud, which Erish could only guess was Chéile attacking the nest. A loud growl rent the air again, quickly answered by a high, piercing shriek.

  Erish, unable to resist, moved forward in the slim crack until she could garner a peek into the cave. The light flashed into the opening of the fissure again, before the staff clattered to the floor, and rolled, making the light sway as it reflected against the dark ceiling of the cave.

  The Lilitu could pick out enough of the scene to understand what was happening as Chéile continued to shriek in agony. The woman turned around and around in the cavern, clawing upward toward her chest and face while the animal snarled and snapped at her. The mother raccoon was hanging off Chéile’s clothing and grappling with its human-like hands as it snapped and bit at the woman’s face. Blood was flying around the rock room, spattering on the walls and floor.

  Chéile grunted and finally thrust the animal from her as she disappeared from the cave. The raccoon, with bowed back and fur standing on end, lumbered its way back to its nest and climbed inside to survey the damage done to its litter. Erish could hear it making chattering and cooing sounds, and clicking noises as it settled back down.

  After a long time, Erish wiggled her way out of the passage and returned to her normal size. She hurriedly gathered her bedding up, leaving behind the covers that were spattered with Chéile’s blood. The staff the woman had hastily left behind still faintly lit the room. Erish briefly considered taking it with her but decided against it. She didn’t care to carry along anything that could give Chéile an easy connection to her in the future. If Chéile returned for it and found it gone, it would give her an easily exploitable link between them.

  Erish left the cave in darkness, preferring to feel her way down the tunnel rather than light her own cudgel again. She was worried that Chéile may still be nearby and she didn’t want to risk Traveling and ending up right in front of her.

  As much as I hate the idea, she thought, as she made her way across the tundra, leaving the cave behind, I will have to seek asylum closer to the humans to have any reasonable expectation of safety. Chéile hated humans and it would afford her a bit of protection, so Erish set off for more populated lands, looking over her shoulder as she made her way to a Fae portal nearby that would take her to Ceann’nathair.

  1 month, 2 weeks later Nonae 21, 763

  Belnesse Province Ceann’nathair

  Chéile Chéile stood on the rocky outcropping looking out across the choppy waters of the Sea of Paldor. She had not, in the last four months, become more adept at Traveling, but she had become an expert at locking in on Erish. She was consistently getting closer to her target every time. She felt she was much improved over the mostly miss of her hit-and-miss ability to locate her back in Imber. In the beginning, the advantage had gone to Erish, who always saw her first. Chéile had done little more than catch a quick glimpse of Erish, usually from behind. Her quarry knew exactly what she looked like—which had placed the odds firmly in Erish’s favor. Chéile wanted to even those a bit.

  She had gone into the weapons room and found a sword she thought would be useful since her newly acquired skills weren’t good enough yet and anyone could swing a sword. It was small enough to fit into her pocket, but when she held it in her hand and squeezed the hilt, it shifted to a full sized weapon. She kept it with her at all times. Another treasure from her weapons room plunder was a tiny nugget resting in her pants’ pocket. She smiled when she thought of it. It would be the thing that would get her close enough to strike. Erish wouldn’t see her coming this time.

  Chéile was almost six months pregnant and she felt better than she had in the beginning. Her gut-wrenching sickness was gone, though she was beginning to tire more easily. She was looking forward to the arrival of her first child, though she found that this stage of pregnancy wasn’t so bad. She was enjoying it, but she wasn’t about to let it stand in the way of her quest for revenge.

  Using her scrying bowl and an article of Erish’s clothing she had left behind a few days before, Chéile found her rival and watched her for a few moments. She decided, today, to take a different approach. Rather than try to Travel directly to the Lilitu woman, she would survey the area and pick a place to go. She would surprise her rival in a different way, this time. The straightforward approach hadn’t been as successful. Hopefully, a little subterfuge would prove more lucrative.

  Chéile Traveled here, to the rocky Belnesse shore, knowing Erish was nearby. Her search for her rival had gone on almost as long as her pregnancy had. Chéile had cultivated her rage and her thirst for revenge. She had nurtured it into a palpable, almost living thing. Nothing would slake the fire in her blood until Erish was dead. Erish running from her, hiding like a guilty dog made finding her that much more desirable. She wouldn’t run if she wasn’t guilty of all I have accused her of, would she?

  It wasn’t enough that she had stripped Erish of her crown and her role as queen of the Lilitu. It wasn’t enough that she had kept Erish on the run and homeless for months, living on the razor edge of terror. It wasn’t enough that she had taken all of Erish’s life except her heartbeat and the breath in her lungs. Chéile wanted those, too.

  She reached up and felt the scar on her lip. Even with the repairs available to her in Na Réaltaí, she still bore a scar from the animal attack nearly five weeks before when she had gone out in search of Erish. She had been so excited when she thought she had trapped her in a cave at last. The disappointment had been heavy when she found that the nasty Fae bitch had escaped her. Chéile had been so angry she had jabbed at that ugly, smelly animal sleeping in a nest made of Erish’s clothing. She had given it a vicious poke with her staff and had been rewarded with an even more vicious attack. That nasty creature went directly for my face, too, otherwise, I would never have retreated.

  Chéile remembered going straig
ht to the infirmary when she returned to Na Réaltaí, in hopes of escaping without a scar and a lot of explanations to make. She had managed to avoid the explanations by refusing to give any, though she felt sure the doctors had figured out what had happened. The wound was much better now, but it wasn’t completely gone. The scar was larger on the inside of her lip and she couldn’t keep her tongue off it when he was nervous. Every time she felt it, or thought about what happened that night, it renewed her anger and her hunger for revenge. She would defeat Erish no matter how long it took, she promised herself. And I have forever.

  Chéile closed her eyes and inhaled deeply the salty sea breeze that blew through her platinum hair and pushed her cloak out straight behind her. She channeled her focus onto Erish, and let it fill her, show her the way. After a few moments, she began to sway on the edge of the precipice. Her movement was mindless and seemingly out of control. She was dangerously close to the edge, a sheer drop that went down hundreds of feet to the sea.

  Suddenly, she stopped swaying and opened her eyes. They glittered with cold, calculating light as she turned and marched straight away from the cliff’s edge. She walked with dedication, never deviating from her path. Her steps were almost mechanical. When she reached the outskirts of a small town, she stopped and refocused her abilities before marching forward again.

  Chéile wanted to keep the element of surprise on her side, which made her grateful for the small treasure she had found in the equipment room in Na Réaltaí. She removed the tiny device, one of three she had found, from her pocket and gently rubbed it with her thumb. She had found out the hard way that the little black object that looked like a shiny rock was a one use only item. Now, she took care to save it for the right moment, knowing its effects wouldn’t last more than five or six hours, tops. When she was near enough to her destination, she ducked into a dingy alley and pressed the nearly hidden button on its shiny surface, transforming herself from her striking Elfish form into a frumpy, slightly overweight human woman with graying dark hair and a double chin. She now had bags under her eyes and sun-toughened skin. Her hands were gnarled and her nails were cracked, broken, and slightly yellow. She had a slight hump on her back and her shoulders slumped forward.

  She caught a glimpse of herself in the glass window of the bakery as she moved forward. She paused and gasped in surprise. She was a good foot shorter. Even Ársa wouldn’t recognize her, so she had no worries that Erish would know her.

  Chéile went straight away to a boarding house in the middle of the village. It was situated in the town square, across from the fountain that occupied most of the green. She looked at the white clapboard building and let the sensation fill her. She knew with certainty that her quarry was there. She had found her at last.

  Chéile fought down the desire to do a victory dance —there would be time for that later. She had learned hard lessons about celebrating too soon. She didn’t want to jeopardize her goal by being hasty. Once Erish lay dead at her feet, she would let herself enjoy the moment.

  She walked to the door of the house and let herself in. An old woman greeted her in the hallway. She was carrying a tray laden with food. “Good afternoon, Miss,” the old woman said. “If you’re wanting a place to stay, we’re all full up, but you can certainly share our dinner with us if you’d like.”

  Chéile looked the old woman over silently before she nodded. She always felt awkward among mortals when she had to deal with them on a social level. She avoided it when possible, but she realized that today if she wanted to reach her target, she would have to play along. “I’d like to have dinner with you, thank you,” Chéile said, keeping her tone level and managing a stiff smile. She was surprised at the harsh, croaking quality in her voice.

  “Come on in then,” the old woman said jovially, turning toward the dining room. “I’ll introduce you to our regulars.” The woman swished into the room, set the tray down, and started placing the dishes of food on the table.

  “What’s your name, Miss?” the woman ask ed her. She pointed to an empty chair. “Sit there,” she said.

  Chéile walked around the table and took the proffered seat. Her heart pounded as she looked at the woman seated to her left. Black hair. Long, black hair. The woman looked up at her as she took her seat. Chéile managed a smile. She glanced at the old woman and said, “Rosa, ma’am, my name is Rosa.” It was her mother’s name. It was the first name she could think of. She had never given anyone a false name before.

  “Howdy do, Rosa,” the woman said. “My name is Verdie, and it’s a pleasure to have you with us.” She took her seat at the head of the table. “You all take turns introducing yourselves to Rosa and we’ll commence eating.”

  The person to Verdie’s left started the introductions off, and each person took a turn right up to, then past Chéile.

  “I’m Robert.”

  “Damian.”

  “Bessie.”

  “I’m Jim.”

  The person at the end of the table, an old man, smiled and said, “I’m Lyle. I’m Verdie’s husband.”

  “I’m Lizzie, their daughter.”

  “Betty,” said the woman next to Chéile.

  The black haired beauty on the other side of Chéile gave her a shy, nervous smile and said, “I’m Erish.” That finished off the introductions and Chéile struggled to make small talk while sharing a meal with people she could smell and thought were revolting. Except Erish. She didn’t smell like the others and it was clear that she was not one of them. It was enough to convince her she had the right person. I can’t believe that Erish wouldn’t even try to come up with a fake name. Idiot.

  Chéile said little but she kept a vigilant eye out for any opportunity. She had never been among so many creatures she viewed as her enemies before. It threw her off, making her cautious. She wanted to strike at exactly the right time.

  After dinner, the men excused themselves and the women rose to clear the table. Chéile stood up but wasn’t about to lower herself to help like a common servant. She cleared her throat. “Excuse me, Erish,” she said. “I wonder if I could have a word with you about a private matter. I am in a bit of a hurry. You see, I have an appointment in a little bit.”

  Erish gave her a puzzled frown. “Of course,” she said. Her tone was somewhat reluctant but the house was full, so surely she was safe. “Where do you want to go?”

  “Anywhere is fine. Your choice.”

  “Let’s step out on the back porch,” Erish said.

  After the door closed behind them, Erish turned to her and

  said, “Do I know you? Why would you possibly want to see me?” “You know my husband,” Chéile said.

  Erish squinted one eye at her and shook her head slowly,

  with deliberation. “I can’t imagine that I do,” she said.

  “Oh, but I know you do. I have it on good authority that

  you’re having an affair with him and I’ve come to put a stop to it.” Erish laughed, but it was nervous and jittery. “I’m sure

  you’ve got the wrong person, ma’am,” she said with more bravado

  than she felt. “I am not having an affair with anyone.”

  Chéile smiled, but it didn’t warm the cold glow in her eyes.

  “My name isn’t Rosa,” she said. “My name is Chéile. Do you know

  me now?”

  Erish’s eyes widened and fear flooded face. She started to

  turn to run, but Chéile flicked a finger her way and she found her

  feet locked to the floor, unable to move.

  “It has taken me a while to catch you, so don’t think I’m

  going to let you get away so fast.”

  “Muirgan lied to you,” Erish said, speaking quickly and

  breathlessly. “I have never had an affair with Ársa.”

  Chéile shook her head. “I saw you with him myself no more

  than three months ago and it’s time for you pay for what you’ve

  done.”

&nbs
p; “Please, I haven’t done anything. I hardly know Ársa,” she

  pleaded. “I only met him a few times when we bargained for a

  goddess for the Fae.”

  Chéile walked around the woman who was still held fast to

  the floor. As she moved behind her, Erish wriggled and twisted,

  trying to get free or to at least keep her adversary in her line of sight. “Oh, I know all about that,” Chéile said. “I know everything

  there is to know about you.”

  “What do you know about Muirgan?” Erish asked, hoping to

  buy some time and find a way to escape. She tried to use her Fae

  powers of Travel or Invisibility but she found them blocked.

  Whatever spell Chéile cast on her rendered her powerless. “I know all I need to know about Muirgan, too,” she said. “I

  know she had reason to seek revenge on you. So don’t try to

  convince me she’s lied to me. It won’t work.”

  Erish fought back tears. “I am not lying to you, Chéile, I

  swear. Muirgan wants revenge so badly she is lying to you to get it.” “I’ve had enough of this,” Chéile snapped, stepping back in

  front of Erish once more. She had walked behind her to double

  check that she was the woman she had seen in Ársa’s arms. She had

  not seen her face in that scrying bowl, their hair was the same color,

  and it was long like that.

  “I think you should look for Ársa’s child,” Erish said, hoping

  to stall long enough to escape, though she could see no way out.

  “His Fae child,” she panted.

  Chéile’s eyes flamed with anger. “A Fae child?” she said with

  bile in her tone. “You’ve had a child with my husband?” Chéile

  growled and hurled a bolt at Erish that exploded in her rival’s chest,

  sending a gout of blood and flame everywhere. The air crackled and

  sizzled and the smell of burning flesh rose acrid in the air. The

  flames leapt from Erish’s writhing body and caught ground on the