The Lure of Fools

by Jason James King

  “Ahem,” Maely fake coughed.

  The Ursaj named Glynn looked down at her. Maely’s chest tightened as he inspected her with his one good eye. He moaned-barked something to Gryyth who shook his head.

  “She is a human cub, and is protected by Seiro.”

  Maely shot a look up at Gryyth. “Wait, what did he say?”

  “He asked if I brought you for the feast.”

  Maely’s mouth dried. “As a guest, right?”

  Gryyth just grunted, and Maely decided she didn’t really want to know.

  “She fought against the one who burned me,” Gryyth said to Glynn. “She helped to save my life and assisted me in my journey here.”

  Glynn squinted down at her. “That does not mean she can enter the holy grounds.”

  “She heard the call of the mother,” Gryyth softly rumbled.

  Glynn’s one eye widened. “She lies.”

  Maely’s anger ignited, burning away her fear, and clenched her teeth so hard that it hurt her jaw. She thumbed her bare ring finger, a part of her wishing she still had her compulsion talis.

  “No human can hear the mother.”

  “I can confirm her story.” Gryyth looked down at her, and his kindly azure gaze tamped down Maely’s rising rage. “Time is short anyhow, so what does it really matter?”

  Glynn fell silent. He glanced behind him at the wall made of fauna and then back to Maely. “She can enter.”

  As if the Ursaj’s words had been a command, the vine fence writhed again and parted. Glynn took over helping Gryyth walk and Maely followed them through the opening. It closed behind them, and that’s when Maely first noticed the thorns on the vine’s branches. Whatever magic made the vine fence function wasn’t just decorative. She cringed as the image of thorn-covered vines lashing out to take hold of her arms, legs, and neck played in her mind and she hurried away from the fence.

  The sky temple was dome shaped but open on one side like an amphitheater. Ursaj of every size, sex, and color walked about or sat on the ground both within the temple and on the grounds around. There had to be a thousand of the bear-people, all eating, drinking, and laughing like they were at Harvest Festival instead of a council meeting to discuss the end of the world. Browning carcasses of deer, wild boar, and pheasant rotated on spits over a dozen cook-fires interspersed throughout the assembly. It smelled wonderful.

  Maely’s stomach growled so loud that Gryyth glanced back at her. He nodded at the nearest source of cooking meat, and Maely smiled. She would’ve ran to the food if she hadn’t been so exhausted. The Ursaj tending the spit was white like Gryyth, but much smaller. It looked up at Maely with bright blue eyes and said something in the Ursaj’s moaning-growling language.

  “Can I have some?” Maely pointed at the browning carcass of a boar rotating over the fire.

  The little bear responded with widening eyes accompanied by a high-pitched sound.

  “Can I have some?” Maely mimed eating and then patted her stomach.

  The little bear glanced around as if looking for help.

  A familiar Ursaj voice barked and huffed from behind. Maely whirled to find Sharor looming over her. She was holding onto Kerr’s arm, milky white eyes fixed on Maely. The little white bear made a response and then carved a chunk of flesh from the boar with its claws and proffered it to Maely. She snatched it from the bear’s claws and sank her teeth into the meat. It tasted sooo good!

  “Thank you,” Maely muttered around a mouth full of chewed pork.

  “What are you doing here, cub?” Sharor asked.

  Maely swallowed a piece of meat that was too big and had to work to gulp it down before answering. “I came with Gryyth.”

  “I guessed that. But no one save Ursaj are allowed to enter the sacred grounds around the temple of the mother.” The she-bear’s tone was mournful for some reason.

  “Gryyth said I could come in because I heard the voice of the mother.”

  Sharor slowly nodded. “That was a remarkable occurrence.”

  “Why?” Maely took another bite of pork. Juice was running down her chin but she didn’t care. She was so hungry and the meat was moist, tender, and most surprising of all, seasoned.

  “Come with me, cub.” Sharor pointed toward the temple, and Kerr escorted her through the crowd.

  Maely followed, finishing her cut of meat far too quickly. She shot a longing glance back at the cooking boar and found the small white bear staring at her. He wasn’t the only one. Every Ursaj she passed paused to take notice of her. It was both unnerving and irritating.

  As Maely followed Sharor the crowd became thinner and she got a better look at the sky temple’s interior. A small Apeira well rose from the ground there, maybe nine or ten feet tall at best, and at its base grew a single white lily.

  Maely sucked some meat juice from her fingers. The saltiness of the pork had made her thirstier. She passed a barrel full of dark red liquid and veered toward it, assuming it to be wine. Kerr barked something at her.

  “No, cub!” Sharor snapped.

  Maely started. “I’m thirsty.”

  “That is for our sacred ritual.”

  Maely rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

  “Now come.” Sharor waved for Maely to resume following.

  They moved to within just a few feet of the Apeira well and the white flower. Sharor slowly lowered herself to the ground where she sat cross-logged. She barked-moaned something at Kerr who nodded and walked away. Maely sat on the ground next to the old she-bear.

  “So what is all this about?” Maely waved at the crowd of Ursaj and then reddened. Sharor is blind, you dullard. She can’t see you wave.

  “Long ago, the mother chose a few from our ancestors, the bear, and gave them reason and speech. That is how the Ursaj race was born.”

  “Are you talking about, Rasheera?”

  Sharor shook her shaggy head. “You’re thinking of what your monks teach. Doubtless they originally worshipped the mother, but the dogma that has grown up around the truth is so convoluted that the divine of their religion is very different from the truth.”

  “But we are talking about Rasheera?”

  Sharor sighed. “For the sake of simplicity, and time, yes.”

  That rankled, and she was about to protest the patronizing when the single lily growing at the base of the Apeira well drew her attention. In spite of being within the well’s purple aura, it seemed to shine white with its own glow. And if Maely didn’t know better, she thought she could feel a gentle heat emanating from the flower.

  Sharor continued. “The mother also gave to the Ursaj a special gift. Although she was gone, we could still commune with her, and hear her call.”

  “The voice I heard in my head?”

  Sharor nodded. “This gift came with a responsibility, however. We were to live strictly by her laws of honor.”

  Maely tore her gaze away from the flower and met Sharor’s milky white eyes. “Seiro?”

  “Yes.”

  “The Vorakk were created in a similar way, though they are jealous of us because we have direct communion with the mother.”

  “Didn’t the mother give the Vorakk anything?”

  Sharor nodded. “A lesser gift. They can communicate with the spirits of the dead, and even call upon them to aid them.”

  Maely thought of Karak’s spirit orbs. Were those actually the souls of dead people? Ghosts? She shivered.

  Kerr returned with a drumstick that he gently fitted into Sharor’s hand, and a wooden bowl for Maely that was filled with clear water. She took the wooden bowl, and upended it with both hands, eagerly draining it so fast it spilled down her dress.

  Sharor patted Kerr’s paw with her free hand. “Thank you, cub.”

  Kerr made a clipped Ursaj reply and then walked away.

  Maely lowered the bowl, gasped, and then called, “Thank you!”

  Sharor took a bite of her drumstick–ironically in a much more civilized way than Maely had attacked her slice of por
k–and chewed in silence.

  Maely wiped her chin with the back of her arm. “So all Ursaj follow Seiro?”

  Sharor swallowed. “No. But the few who break their covenant lose the mother’s gift and slowly transform back into ordinary bears.”

  Maely surveyed the crowd of feasting bear-people. “Is this all the Ursaj?”

  Sharor laughed. “How many do you count?”

  Maely winced. “Sorry.”

  Sharor laughed a second time. “Think nothing of it, cub. From the sound of it, I’d wager close to a thousand have heeded the mother’s call. Those who haven’t come either can’t, or are apostates slowly changing back into brutes. Our patriarch, Glynn, waits to allow those who may be late to arrive before starting the ceremony.”

  Maely eyed the barrel of wine set alluringly only ten paces away. She was still pretty thirsty and Sharor wouldn’t know if she took a drink. She caught Kerr watching her from afar and gave up the idea.

  “So what is this ceremony? What does it do? Is it a spell that’ll drive back that evil energy coming from Aiested?”

  “We do not spell-cast.”

  “Then why do you have an Apeira well?”

  “There isn’t time to explain it all.” Sharor took another bite of her meaty drumstick–an entire boar’s leg by the looks of it.

  “If time is so short, then why are you having a feast?”

  Sharor hesitated and then carefully said, “It is preparation for the ceremony.”

  Maely eyed her empty bowl and shot another glance at the wine barrel. Kerr was standing close to it. Dammit! “So, are we going to go inside that temple?”

  “The mother names it Empyrean. It is a vessel to the heavens. She bade the Ursaj of old to dig it out of the ground, for it was buried.”

  “Neat…” Maely made sure the word dripped with sarcasm. “Do we get to go inside?”

  Sharor shook her head again. “Ursaj are not allowed inside.”

  “Then, why have it?” The irrationality of the Ursaj’s mysticism was really starting to get on her nerves.

  “The mother said it was the chariot of one of her champions and would be used in the last of all battles.”

  Maely rolled her eyes and pulled some grass from the ground. “So, is this ceremony something that you do once a year? Like Harvest Festival?” She casually tossed the grass into the air.

  Sharor had her drumstick raised for another bite, but stopped. She lowered the food and set it on her lap. “Any Ursaj can come here at any time to commune with the mother. We can even importune her to call the others. But, this ceremony has never before been performed. You see, Maely, the Ursaj are the mother’s guardians.”

  Maely furrowed her brow. “Why would a goddess need bodyguards? And besides, I thought you said she was gone.”

  Sharor shook her head and quietly muttered, “Not enough time, cub.”

  “Fine!” Maely huffed and folded her arms. “So am I going to be a part of this ritual?” She glanced at the wine one more time, hoping that she could be. The wine looked delicious.

  Sharor didn’t answer right away.

  “Well?”

  Sharor closed her eyes. “I don’t know, cub. I would hope not. But because you are here, I don’t know. I also don’t know how or why you heard the mother’s call. That isn’t supposed to happen.”

  More Ursaj began to gather near the Apeira well, seating themselves beside one another in a ring around the well. Once the first circle was closed, they formed another larger circle, and then another.

  “Is it time?” Maely watched an Ursaj she-bear suckle a tiny doll-sized cub as she sat cross-legged on the ground.

  “Almost.”

  Maely was irritated when Sharor offered nothing further. “So what happens now?”

  “Now we wait until the mother speaks to us again. If she commands it, we will commence the Kasei.”

  Maely surveyed the concentric rings of sitting Ursaj. More were still forming at the edges of the circle. “I thought you said Glynn was just waiting for stragglers.”

  “It appears he is done waiting.” She cast a sidelong glance at Maely with her milky eyes. “You and Gryyth were lucky to arrive when you did. More confirmation that the mother called you.”

  Maely looked about for Gryyth, but didn’t see him until she leaned to her right to see around the Apeira well. He was sitting nearly opposite her in the first circle. His snout was tightly clamped shut, and his breathing was so shallow that Maely could tell from fifty paces away.

  “Gryyth needs more medicine,” she whispered to Sharor. “His fever has returned and I think he’s getting worse.”

  Sharor’s eyes were closed and her snout slightly raised as if basking in the heat of a campfire. “There is not time, cub.”

  “But…”

  Sharor’s blind eyes snapped open and she glared at Maely. “No more questions. You are here with us now and cannot leave, so you will respect our ways!”

  Maely was speechless. The usually jovial she-bear had suddenly gone from sagacious good humor to steely sternness.

  “What am I supposed to do?” Maely finally asked with an embarrassingly shaky voice.

  Sharor closed her eyes again and returned to her meditative pose. “Listen for the mother’s voice.”

  And so Maely settled back into a sitting position mirroring Sharor’s, closed her eyes, and tried to hear the voice of a goddess she wasn’t even sure she believed in.

  Kairah’s eyes snapped open. Shivara’s willowy girl-servant, Etele, leaned over her; large youthful eyes somewhat vacant even as they were fixed on Kairah. Etele straightened, and nodded at Shivara who stood watching Kairah from the foot of the bed upon which she lay.

  Kairah sat up, both her fists suddenly full of the silk sheets beneath her as the world spun. Etele steadied her with a hand until the wave of dizziness subsided. Kairah’s head throbbed like it never had before. She squinted her eyes closed, seeking darkness to help mitigate the pain caused even from the low light ambience of the bed chamber.

  “You have touched the other magic, child. Haven’t you?” Shivara said.

  The woman spoke differently than she had before, less properly, less like an Allosian. If Kairah didn’t know better, Shivara’s informality of speech sounded like a human’s. She also had the trace of an accent Kairah couldn’t place.

  Kairah nodded, and immediately regretted the action.

  “You will continue to have increasingly worse headaches as your condition worsens.”

  Kairah cracked her eyelids.

  Shivara walked over to a dresser set against the wall opposite the bed. She turned to examine herself in a large mirror set atop the vanity. She picked up a small teardrop-shaped vial of liquid from the vanity and raised it to her face, spilling two drops into her eye and then repeating the action for her other eye.

  “Your ability to cast spells will also weaken until your skill is a shadow of its former glory.”

  Kairah fully opened her eyes and winced as the light from a dimmed glow orb made it seem like the sun itself was burning within the room. She closed her eyes again and massaged her right temple.

  “The alien power is changing you at the most basic levels. It is rewriting your essence into something drastically disparate like a spurned lover’s adoring sonnet converted into a lament of despair.”

  Kairah chanced opening her eyes again, and had to shield them with a hand. “How do you know all this?”

  Shivara turned to face her and smiled. “Moriora, and other alien powers, have ever been my life’s study.”

  “You knew of the danger, and you never told the synod?”

  Shivara laughed. “Child, I am over a thousand years old. I have outlived six synods and I can tell you that each was just as unwilling to delve into such mysteries as our current leaders were unwilling to take your warning seriously.” Shivara slowly rounded the foot of the bed. “Allosians are more like humans than they care to admit, especially when it comes to how they react to
change. In fact, in some ways they’re worse. Nothing can quite rile an Allosian like changing the rules of a world that they have come to rely on.”

  “A thousand years?” Allosians didn’t live longer than four hundred so far as Kairah knew. There were now and again one of her people who might reach nearly five centuries of life, but those occasions were rare. “How have you achieved such longevity?”

  Shivara sat on the bed and gently brushed a strand of amethyst hair from Kairah’s forehead. The contact made her skin prickle with an electric sensation that was only a few shades shy of painful.

  “What are you doing?”

  Shivara ignored her question. “We are seers, Kairah. The mysteries of the universe are ours for the taking.”

  “And is it by your oracular gift that you know so much of Moriora?”

  “That…” Shivara smoothed Kairah’s hair, “and experimentation.”

  Something pulled on Kairah, not a physical motion, but something from the ethereal plane. The sensation was so light that she very nearly missed.

  “What do you mean experimentation?”

  Shivara didn’t answer. Instead she just stared at Kairah with a coy smile on her face. Kairah started when Shivara abruptly stood. “Come with me, child. I wish to show you something.”

  Shivara turned and swept from the room in a flurry of green robes. Etele followed silently as she always did. Kairah threw off her covers, and placed her bare feet on the stone floor. She winced, but this time not from her headache–which still pounded behind her eyes–but from the cold of the stone floor beneath her.

  Allosian talis craft had evolved over the centuries to such a sophisticated degree that it could provide every comfort imaginable. One of the common talises used in constructed Allosian dwellings was an ember–a spherical stone that warmed the walls and floors of a building. Every home Kairah had visited in Allose had one, and this was the first building she’d encountered where such a talis was not utilized. Why?

  She started for the door, but veered to the vanity set against the wall. She examined the teardrop shaped vial of liquid Shivara had dripped into her eyes. It was the same amethyst color of Kairah’s hair.