Shadow of the Gods tgc-3

by Brian D. Anderson

  She sneered at Gewey. “Arrogant human. What could you have done? A weak member of a weak race who…” her words trailed off. She closed her tear-filled eyes. “I am sorry. I should not have said that. I did not mean it.”

  “No need to apologize,” said Gewey. “I understand your pain. I have lost those close to me as well.”

  “Unless you have lost a child, you cannot understand.” Her tears fell onto the sand. “I do not know how to bear such pain.” She rocked back and forth and wept.

  “You could journey to the Black Oasis,” said Aaliyah softly, once Weila’s sobs lessened. “You can see for yourself where his spirit resides. Now that the evil is gone, it is safe.”

  Weila wiped her eyes. “I may, in time. But for now, I must ignore my pain and do what I came here to do. You are to accompany me to see the Amal Molidova. She has sent me to retrieve you.”

  “I am sorry,” said Aaliyah. “But we are in need of haste. Our people await us.”

  “You will not leave the desert unless she allows it,” said Weila, coldly. “Your presence is not an option. The Soufis are gathering in vast numbers, and she will see what role you have played in this.”

  “We have nothing to do with it,” Gewey protested.

  “Perhaps,” said Weila. “That will be for Lyrial to decide. Do not try to run. You will be cut down before you reach the shore.” She motioned for them to follow. “And don't think your powers will save you. I know what you did to the Soufis, Aaliyah. Their burned corpses are a testament to what you are capable of.”

  Gewey started to correct her, but a stern glance from Aaliyah silenced him.

  “We will comply,” said Aaliyah. “How far must we travel?”

  “It is an eight-day journey,” Weila replied. “But we will get there much faster.”

  “How,” asked Gewey. The idea of more than two weeks’ delay did not sit well.

  “You shall see.” Weila headed west. Gewey and Aaliyah looked at each other then followed.

  The heat of the day was nearly unbearable. Aaliyah thought it best not to use the power of the flow to cool the air. Weila was in pain at the loss of Pali, and she didn't want to make matters worse by offending her beliefs.

  By midday, they had nearly exhausted their water. Weila had not even opened her flask and her pace had steadily increased. A few hours later, they saw a small rock formation at the base of a large dune. As they neared they could make out an opening, just big enough for a single person to pass through.

  “We are here,” said Weila. Just inside the opening was a steep staircase leading into the dark depth of the earth. “Mind your feet. The stairs are treacherous.”

  Gewey had to duck to enter the opening and his feet hung over each step. In seconds, the light from the entrance was gone and they were surrounded by pitch blackness. The air was stale and dusty, and the corridor was barely wide enough for Gewey to squeeze through. The descended for several hundred yards before the stair finally ended and flatten into a narrow hallway. The hall twisted and turned for nearly a half-mile, until Gewey could see a soft light ahead. As they approached, he realized the light emanated from the walls of a rough, rounded, natural enclosure, twenty feet high and twenty feet in diameter. At either end a tunnel disappeared into the distance. Thousands of tiny bulbs of blue crystals were embedded into the rock, each giving off a faint light, illuminating the cavern. The floor was smooth and polished, clearly made so by the hands of skilled craftsmen, with the exception a rough stripe of gritty sand that spanned the cavern and led to the entrance of each tunnel. The closer Gewey looked the more the sand appeared to move and ripple.

  “That is how we will travel,” said Weila. She walked to the far right end of the cavern, where a line of round curved disks, four-feet in diameter, were leaned against the wall. She grabbed three and gave one to Gewey and Aaliyah.

  “I don't understand,” said Gewey.

  Weila reached in her belt, pulled out a copper and tossed it on top of the rough spot on the floor. At once it came to life, flowing like a swift river, into the tunnel. “This is the Blood of the Desert. We will ride it to the Waters of Shajir.”

  Gewey and Aaliyah stared in wonder as the sand settled. Gewey bent down to touch it, but Weila quickly snatched him back.

  “Do not touch it,” she warned, sternly. “It will pull you in and drag you down into the depth of the earth.” She placed her disk on the floor just beside the sand. “This is a slithas. We will ride atop them.” She motioned for them to place theirs beside hers.

  Gewey closed his eyes. He could feel the flow raging all around him. He was tempted to let it in, but resisted. “This place…did your people build it?”

  “No. It was here when we arrived,” Weila replied. She took several leather strips from her belt and lashed the slithas together through tiny holes along the outer edge. There are many scattered throughout the desert, though only a few are safe to use.”

  “And the ones that aren't?” asked Gewey.

  Weila pushed the slithas into the Blood of the Desert. Again it came to life. “They lead to a great vortex in the center of the desert. If you go there, you will not return.” She put one foot atop the lead slithas. “Now be ready.”

  Gewey took the center and Aaliyah the rear. Weila nodded sharply and they all jumped aboard. They barely had time to sit, when the sands grabbed the slithas, and flung them forward. The staff and bow strapped to Gewey's pack jammed into his kidney, sending a shockwave of pain through his body.

  In seconds, they were through the tunnel and the glow of the crystals vanished, replaced by utter darkness. After Gewey's eyes adjusted, he turned to Aaliyah. She was sitting, legs crossed and eyes closed.

  “Have you ever heard of a place like this?” he asked.

  “No.” She folded her arms and sighed. “But it is truly wonderful. I can feel the power of the earth here like in no other place I have ever been in my life. Even the jungles of my home seem dead and dreary by comparison.”

  “This is where the power you steal comes from,” said Weila, with a tinge of disgust. “The desert is filled with such wonders. If my heart wasn't so heavy, I would tell you about them.” She covered her face with her hands, and shuddered. Then she heaved a sigh and wiped her eyes. “I know that it was not your fault that my son perished, Aaliyah. You made the only choice you could. If the wolves attacked, then it was due to dark forces. They are not evil creatures by nature. I would not have had Pali left alone in the desert.”

  “I thank you for your understanding,” said Aaliyah. “And I hope you will journey to the Black Oasis. I believe seeing what has become of it will help heal your heart.”

  “Perhaps. For now I must mourn.” She noticed the bow and staff Gewey carried. “Is that what you were after? You did not have those when we first met.”

  “It was,” Aaliyah affirmed. “The Oasis guarded these things. It was what drew the evil there. It wished to possess them.”

  “Is that why the Black Oasis is safe?” she asked. “Because it no longer has anything to protect?”

  “Yes,” Aaliyah replied. “At least in part.”

  “Then Pali died for a worthy cause.” More tears fell from Weila’s eyes.

  “Your son died fighting at our side,” said Gewey. “He could have stayed within the temple, but chose to face the evil that had invaded your land. To me, that alone is worthy of pride.”

  “You are wise for one so young,” said Weila. A smile crept upon her lips. “To die fighting alongside one’s friend is worthy. But to face evil, when it is easier to hide, is even more so.” She leaned forward and touched Gewey's arm. “Your words are a comfort, where I thought none could be found.”

  Hours passed as the slithas sped along, twisting and winding through the bowels of the desert. The disks appeared to guide themselves, with no actions required from Weila. Gewey had never spent so much time beneath the surface, and soon had lost track of time and direction.

  As they continued, he noticed th
e air would change from time to time. It would grow warm and dry, then later cool and moist. Gewey tried to imagine what lay above that would cause this. Occasionally, they would pass through a section of tunnel with the glowing blue crystals dotting the walls. It was then he could feel the flow intensify.

  “There is so much I don't know,” he thought. “So many mysteries.”

  As if reading his thoughts, Aaliyah said, “I could spend a lifetime learning about this place.”

  “You could spend many lifetimes and never learn all the wonders of the desert,” remarked Weila.

  Finally, Gewey looked ahead and saw the glow of another cavern approaching, rapidly. Weila crouched on her slithas, Gewey and Aaliyah did the same.

  “We are traveling faster than you may realize,” said Weila. “You will have only one chance to get off. If you miss it, you will end up in the vortex. Just jump when I do and you will live.”

  Gewey was unnerved by the idea of being swallowed by a vortex of sand, and allowed the flow to enter. The world slowed and he calmed his heartbeat. When they reached the cavern Weila jumped. Gewey and Aaliyah followed just in time. Even with the power of the flow raging through him, he nearly lost his footing as his boots struck rock.

  The passageway out was a gentle, upward slope, a fact that relieved Gewey. Hours of sitting had caused his legs to cramp and twinge. But what it lacked in depth, it made up for in length. He guessed they walk for at least a mile, before they reached the end. As they emerged Gewey could see the stars of the night sky, shining in the heavens.

  The landscape had changed from endless dunes, to flat, tightly packed sand, with patches of coarse, brown grass and thorny bushes scattered about. On the horizon, the silhouette of jagged mountains blackened the sky. Gewey had seen his father’s map of the desert when he was a child. He would bring it out when he told him stories of the fire lizards.

  “We’re on the other end of the desert,” he gasped. “How…” During their passage, it didn't seem like they were traveling long enough or fast enough to have gone this far.

  Weila cracked a smile. “I told you. The desert is full of wonders.”

  Weila led them east along a well-trodden trail. Immediately, they could see a bright blue light, the same hue as the crystals they had seen in the caverns, cutting away the darkness, only a few miles away.

  “When we arrive, you must be silent until I speak with Lyrial,” said Weila. “She will take the death of Pali no better than I.”

  “Why is that?” asked Gewey.

  Her face was hard and dark. “In human terms, she was his wife.”

  A cold chill shot down Gewey's spine. “I see.”

  “What is she exactly?” asked Aaliyah. “What authority does she possess?”

  “She is the Amal Molidova,” Weila replied, reverently. “She is the spiritual leader of my people. In times when a single voice must guide us, we have chosen for it to be hers.”

  “And the Sand Masters?” asked Gewey. He had assumed they were the leaders of the desert elves.

  Weila held her head high. “We concern ourselves with matters of the desert. Our task is the well-being of our people as they journey through the dunes. Once our folk are safely home, our responsibility ends. We do not often need a single voice to guide us. War and turmoil are rare. But things have changed. The Soufis are forming an army. This has never happened…until you arrived.”

  Gewey could feel Aaliyah's unease. Since he had returned her spirit to her body, more and more he could feel what she was feeling. It was almost like the bond he shared with Kaylia, only more subtle.

  Soon, the light grew brighter and brighter, until the surrounding area was awash with blue illumination. Gewey could feel the flow growing more and more powerful with each step. The light seemed to be emanating from the ground and soon an immense, fifty-foot high statue came into view. At first Gewey was unable to make out what it was. The light danced playfully across its surface, but as they drew closer it was cleared. An elf woman, in a flowing gown, face upturned, and holding aloft a silver urn. The urn was tilted forward and a stream of shining blue liquid spilled out.

  When they were only a short distance away, the ground changed from sand to smooth, polished white marble. Gewey realized it was part of a massive round platform. In its center was a pool, one-hundred yards in diameter, filled with the blue liquid that poured from the statue. The white marble reflected the light from the water, giving off an eerie, yet calming glow, and made Gewey think of being within a dream. The flow was so strong, it nearly entered him before he could stop it.

  “Wait here,” Weila ordered. She walked around the edge of the pool and disappeared behind the statue.

  Gewey and Aaliyah waited in silence, gazing into the water. Nearly an hour had passed before Weila returned carrying a small tan reed basket. Beside her walked a tall, thin elf woman. Her long golden hair fell loosely about her shoulders and down her back. Her alabaster skin was made more pronounced by her penetrating, dark green eyes. She wore a blue satin robe, embroidered with tiny, intricate silver swirls that interlaced, becoming one large pattern, and tied at the waist by a silver cloth. Her feet were bare, and made no sound as they touch the cold marble. Her ageless features were thin and delicate, yet bore the seriousness of authority. Just before she reached them Gewey could smell a salty sweet fragrance, which reminded him of the wild flowers after a spring rain.

  “I am Lyrial.” Her voice was feminine and soft, yet commanding. “Weila has brought news that Pali fell in the Black Oasis, fighting at your side.”

  Gewey wasn't sure if he was to speak, so he just nodded.

  Aaliyah stepped forward and bowed. “I am-“

  “I know who you are,” she interrupted. “And you know who I am. You are here so I can determine if your arrival has anything to do with the recent gathering of a Soufis army. Once I have found the truth of the matter, we will discuss Pali.”

  “I can assure you, we do not have anything to do with the Soufis,” said Aaliyah.

  “We shall see.” Lyrial spun on her heels. “But I am not a discourteous host. You shall eat and rest. Then we shall talk. Weila will see to your needs.” She made her way back to the statue and sat cross-legged beside it.

  Weila opened the basket and pulled out two thin blankets, a loaf of bread, some dried fruit, and a bottle of wine. “You will have a few hours before she will speak with you. I suggest you rest until then. I will return a shortly before sunrise.” She turned to leave, then paused. “Don't worry about the cold. The Waters of Shajir will keep you warm enough.”

  Once Weila was away, Gewey and Aaliyah laid out their blankets and ate their meal. The bread was plain and tough, but the fruit was sweeter than expected. The wine wasn't as good as what he’d had in the past, but it went down well enough.

  “What should we do?” asked Gewey, leaning back on his elbows.

  “What can we do?” Aaliyah lay down and closed her eyes. “If we run, we will either be killed or be forced to kill those who are not our enemy. We will rest while we can and speak to Lyrial. Hopefully we will be able to convince her that we have nothing to do with the Soufis.”

  “I may be forced to tell them what I am, you know.”

  Aaliyah opened her eyes and looked at Gewey. “That is for you to decide.”

  Gewey lay down and allowed himself to drift off to sleep. Aaliyah was right. What could they do?

  Chapter 21

  Weila woke Gewey and Aaliyah, and offered them both a cup of clear, sweet-smelling juice, which they gratefully accepted, though its fragrance did not prepare Gewey for the sour taste. His face twisted and he nearly spat it out.

  Weila laughed. “It is from the fruit of the ganhi bush. It is sour, but very good for you.”

  “Is Lyrial ready to see us?” asked Aaliyah.

  Weila nodded, and pointed to the far end of the pool near the statue. “Go to her. I will wait here.”

  “You're not coming?” asked Gewey.

  “As I
said, this is a matter for the Amal Molidova, not a Sand Master,” she explained. “Do not worry. We have spoken of Pali, and she does not hold you to blame any more than I.”

  Gewey and Aaliyah finished their juice, then made their way around the pool to where Lyrial sat waiting. In front of her, two flat round cushions had been placed. She motioned for them to sit. She wore a pair of loose-fitting, cream, linen trousers, and a matching blouse. Her blond hair was in a tight braid that fell down her back and wound around her waist, ending up in her lap, and her bright green eyes twinkled in the blue light emanating from the water. Her face had the same timeless quality Gewey had come to know in elves, yet he knew she must be quite old.

  Lyrial's eyes darted back and forth from Gewey to Aaliyah. “I do not think you are in league with the Soufis. So do not fear.”

  “That is good,” said Aaliyah. “And know that we come in friendship.”

  Lyrial raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? It is hard to imagine those who exiled my people so long ago have suddenly had a change of heart. No. I believe if you desire friendship, it is out of necessity. Whatever the troubles are in the west, I think you have brought them with you.”

  “First, I would say that my people did not exile you,” said Aaliyah, her tone forceful and steady. “My people are from across what you know as the Western Abyss. But do not think that is a reflection on the other elves of this land. I do not believe they even remember you exist. Certainly, those living today had no part in your exile.”

  Lyrial shook her head and let out a huff. “It would stand to reason that their arrogance and folly would shorten their memory.”

  “Your kin do not seem to share your attitude,” said Aaliyah. “Those we spoke to seem pleased that the elves of the west would come.”

  “It is for them to live and die, free in the sands,” she shot back. “It is for me to protect that freedom. Their hearts are not as burdened as mine.” She shrugged. “They do not read the ancient lore.” She paused and sighed. “Still, I am not unwilling to welcome them, if they truly wish it. And stories of the elves from across the Abyss have been told long before we came here. If your people have returned, then perhaps it is you who have brought war.”