Braid of Sand

by Alicia Gaile

  Before any of the soldiers could do anything, the crowd surged toward them, trampling them, shouting that it was time for a new regime.

  “Come on, Raziela!” Barak hissed, shoving her hard between the shoulder blades to get her moving. “We’ve got to track down Castien.”

  “I saw him headed this way.” They ran from Market Square. In his effort to lose the guards, he’d left a clear path of destruction for them to follow. Overturned garbage cans, incapacitated guards. Then nothing.

  They turned the corner and his trail stopped.

  “You don’t think they caught him, do you?” Raziela raked the intersection for clues. Barak shrugged.

  “It’s possible they overpowered him, but this is a terrible place to try to ambush him. There’s hardly any cover. He would’ve seen them.”

  Raziela dropped to one knee in the middle of the street.

  “Great Mother, hear me. I need your help—” Barak tugged on her sleeve as more gunfire sprayed behind them in the square.

  “We can’t stay here.”

  “Go back and help however you can,” Raziela said as a ray of sunlight fell across her shoulders. “I’ll handle this by myself.” She closed her eyes and laid one hand on her dagger and the other fist against her heart.

  “They are coming for Vitales. They might already be there. It will take too long for me to make it to the old temple. Please! I promise I won’t let you down this time.”

  Behind her she heard chanting and cheering. There was a crash as something heavy hit the ground. Despite the chaos in the Square, the clouds parted and rays of sunlight bathed Raziela in warmth. As whistling winds rushed up the street to swallow her, she welcomed them with open arms.

  When the whooshing sensation of passing from one realm to the other subsided, a gasp wrenched from her throat.

  Her tower was a crumbled ruin. Moss and lichen grew between the stones as though months had passed since she’d been there last.

  “Aeris, where are you? Is he here?”

  When they came, the zephyrs brought with them a soft voice—hers. And then came a realization that almost brought her to her knees. The willows! Someone had cut into the willow trees!

  A tug on her hair made her look down. Peeking through the rubble was the hilt of a sword.

  She raced through the ruined courtyard, ignoring three piles of ashes lying across her path. The zephyrs blew at her back, propelling her faster. Raziela blurred past the soldiers hacking at the trees.

  They weren’t expecting her, and so the first three went down before they even had a chance to defend themselves. Two more came at her from opposite sides, but rage and desperation fueled each and every one of her strikes. Against the wall she saw Kephas raising his knife over Castien. A throwing knife whistled through the air and embedded itself in the soft flesh between the two bones beneath his wrist.

  The knife clattered to the ground and Kephas gave a high-pitched squeal. Raziela didn’t stop moving. Ducking to sweep the legs out from her last target. He fell backward and she rose up to slam her elbow into his diaphragm and drive her fist into his nose. Pain ricocheted through her knuckles at the impact, but she ignored it.

  Kephas was still shrieking, but Castien had his bound arms looked around his brother’s neck. He stared glassy-eyed at nothing, but his face contorted with rage as he choked his brother’s air off.

  “Don’t kill him,” said Raziela, approaching slowly. “After all, this is a sacred place.”

  Castien said nothing, just tightened his hold until Kephas slumped like a discarded doll to the ground.

  She reached for Castien’s face, cupping it between her hands. Aside from some scratches he appeared unharmed. He shrank from her touch. Raziela bit her lip and went to work untying his wrists.

  “Why didn’t you tell us you were losing your sight?”

  He backed away from her, staggering when he came up against a chunk of stone wall.

  “I made a bargain with the Goddess. This was her price.”

  “A bargain?” She couldn’t imagine what he would need that was worth so much.

  “I wanted her to reward your faith. And with every flower and every vine that grew on that island, I lost a little more of my sight.”

  “But that’s ridiculous! She’d have grown the garden anyway. Castien, there must be another reason. Perhaps you were injured and you didn’t realize it. Perhaps—”

  “Don’t sound so upset. I’ll manage.”

  “But your father—your enemies...”

  “Trust me, if there was a way for me to fix it, I would.” His mouth twisted. She bit her lip and chanced a glance at the sky.

  “I think I might know how.”

  She didn’t wait. He made a grab for her and tried to call her back but she was already clambering over wreckage to reach the garden wall.

  Her fingers went unerringly to the secret stone. When she stepped inside, everything was exactly as she had left it. She approached the Tree of Life and drew her blade. The poultice that had saved her eyesight when she saw Naiara’s true form had been concocted with the sap of Vitales. She would have to be quick. She raised the dagger to the bark.

  “You would sacrifice the life of another to save him?”

  Raziela gasped and jumped back. When she turned, a brilliant light blazed before condensing into a human form.

  “Mother!” She gasped and dropped to her knees.

  “You are your father’s daughter, girl. I thought I’d plucked you before he could spoil you with the wicked selfishness that burned in his heart, but blood never lies. You were my last chance. If you could’ve withstood the temptation of eternal life I’d have spared the rest of them, but even you cannot.”

  “It is not for me. It’s for him.” She spoke to the ground, shivering under Naiara’s disgust.

  “And the cabbage your father stole was for your mother. What difference does that make? When circumstances don’t turn out the way you want you humans can’t be content to accept them. You have to try to meddle with forces beyond your control.”

  “You let my people starve. You polluted the water, the earth, and the sky. You left them all to suffer!”

  “It was what they deserved!” Naiara slashed her hand through the air and Vitales’s branches groaned. “I gave them a chance the night I caught your father. When they disregarded my mercy and slew my priestesses instead, that was an act that I couldn’t forgive. They were your sisters of faith—or have you forgotten?”

  “But he didn’t do that, Mother.”

  “He was there! Do you not recognize the boy who found you pinned? Look at him! Does he look as though he’s suffered much to you?” She was angrier that Raziela had ever seen her. Her appearance shifted, merging the freckle-faced vision with the white glowing eyes and the flowing platinum hair.

  “They turned on me. They hate me...I gave them everything!”

  As Naiara’s image fluctuated, Raziela realized that the holes in the disguise weren’t different, they were her three faces. Dawn. Day. And Dusk.

  “There’s three of you.”

  Raziela sagged to her knees as the truth unraveled in her mind. Dusk had saved her and brought her to be a companion for Dawn and the child of Day.

  “And which one of you did Itzal betray?”

  The three faces converged and the Grove exploded with light. Raziela threw up her hands to shield her face.

  “You dare speak his name! You dare remind me of him now?” Power surged toward Raziela who pressed her forehead into the ground, but before that blinding light could incinerate her, a wave of black magic washed over her from behind.

  “I courted you as a maiden. As the mother of our child you escaped. And you’ve hated me ever since with a bitter old woman’s heart. It is not mankind you can’t forgive—it’s me.”

  He had no form. He was simply a void as black as Naiara was bright. Caught between the two titans, Raziela quivered in fear.

  “You! You’re the reason they turned aga
inst me. You’re the reason Mazin cries without end.”

  “I knew once you broke free you’d fly away and never look back.”

  “You knew that dark prison of yours would destroy me. You knew I was walking into a trap.”

  “I underestimated the Shadow Realm’s effects on your light. But think before you destroy this child who has shown you nothing but blind reverence. Can you not hear the peoples’ prayers? They are speaking to you because of her. Has she not done enough to earn what she seeks.”

  “The life of a mercenary?”

  “The life of the man who loves her.”

  Naiara’s light flared as she seethed. Raziela kept her face pressed into the ground, trying to make herself as small as possible. She couldn’t look at either of them. It’s darkness seemed to push against her eyes.

  “You saved him, didn’t you? You shielded him from my strike and carried him down the mountain.”

  “I took the brunt of the blow, yes. And I have looked after him ever since.”

  “Old Linus? Isn’t that what they call you? You are a god and you allow them kick you and ridicule you as though you are no more than vermin.”

  “They are lost, Naiara. Without us to guide them, what do you expect?”

  “You!” Naiara rounded on Raziela, who hunched into a ball on the ground. “You let them cut your hair!” She sounded heartbroken. “You were the last daughter I had left.”

  “It’s was not my intention to sever my vow, Great Mother, but let me make a new one to show my unwavering devotion. Allow me to heal him and we will go back to our world. If you restore the fertility to the soil so that life there can endure, when the time comes for me to have a child I will raise them in your honor. Should you bless me with a girl, when she is old enough to choose, I will let her decide whether she will be a Daughter of Light.”

  “And if she doesn’t?”

  “Then I have failed you and you will do with me as you see fit. Please Mother. Have mercy on Phalyra and please help me save him.”

  Naiara’s light dimmed until she was the freckled-faced dawn. Her silver eyes were downcast and she reached down to pick up the dagger Raziela had dropped.

  “Your kind worshipped me once. They sang my name in songs and beggared themselves to please me. Now they spit on my name. Why should I let any of them live?” She clutched the dagger in her fist.

  Gathering her courage, Raziela lifted her head to meet the Goddess’s burning eyes.

  “Because the only hope any of us have for happiness is if we can learn to forgive and move on.”

  39.

  The rustle of her skirts warned him she was back. With her came some exotic scent. He leaned away. What was she going to do?

  She cupped the back of his head and then something wet pressed against his eyes. He twisted away, shaking his head.

  “What is it?”

  “Please,” she murmured. His stomach filled with lead. He knew that tone. That was the tone someone used when they’d done something catastrophic for what they believed was the greater good.

  He went still and submitted to her ministrations. They could face the consequences together once he was at his full strength.

  The soft scrape of a wooden bowl warned him before she smeared another cooling layer across his eyes. It soothed the straining muscles. At last the dull ache in his head withdrew.

  She didn’t say anything for a long time. He could feel her leaning over him, feel her gaze tracing his skin. Her breath feathered across his cheek and he inhaled her sweet fragrance. Even covered with sweat and dust after fighting she gave off a delicate lavender scent, as if all her time in the Great Mother’s Garden has absorbed it into his skin. His hand twitched, wanting to draw her closer, but he heard the splash of water being wrung out into a large pail. Gently, she wiped away the salve she’d just applied.

  That was when she sniffled. A tear splashed onto his cheek.

  “Raziela?” He sat up, reaching for her hand. “What is it?”

  “Everything will be all right. The gods have assured me you’ll regain the full scope of your sight.”

  But tremors wracked her body and he could feel tension coiled tight inside her.

  “What did you do?” he demanded. “What was her price?” She took a deep shuddering breath.

  “I stole from the Sacred Grove. She expects the same price of me that my father had to pay.” She sniffled again and pulled her hand away to wipe at her face. Castien let the realization come to him slowly. Whatever ingredients were in that poultice must have come from Vitales. She’d defiled the Sacred Tree—for him?

  Awe and terror welled inside him. She had risked the wrath of the Goddess to save him? A worthless mercenary? He frowned and tilted his head.

  “The same price as your father? You promised to give her your child?”

  “She is to be raised in the ways of the Great Mother, and when she comes of age, she will decide for herself whether she agrees to serve as a Daughter of Light. Naiara agreed to restore fertility to Phalyra if I make it my duty to restore their order. Once a new temple is built, my daughter can serve the Great Mother there.”

  “And if she doesn’t want to?”

  “Then I will have failed to keep faith in the Great Mother alive.” Her voice wobbled, but she cleared her throat to change the subject. “How are you feeling?”

  Castien caught her wrist.

  “How could you swear your daughter’s life away? After what she did to you, how could you do that?”

  “If my vow can bring peace for another eighteen years then at least I have bought Phalyra a little more time. Besides, I know Naiara will surround her with love and light.” She withdrew her hand to lay it in her lap. Castien was careful to guard his expression, wishing he could see her face instead of the oppressive black void. Nice that she had that much faith in Naiara’s goodwill.

  “And where is this child supposed to come from?” he asked bitterly, not sure if he wanted to hear the answer. She shifted.

  “If the Great Mother wishes it to happen, then it will come to be.”

  “You don’t even get a say?” He couldn’t hold back a derisive snort.

  Faint light began to penetrate the darkness pressing against his eyes. It faded to a pale gray and soon the fuzzy outline of her biting her lip appeared above him. When he looked higher, her eyes were filled with terror—not the terror that comes in the face of battle, but the terror that says her most vulnerable self was about to be exposed.

  “Tell me, Raziela.” He shifted so that their noses were almost touching. He squinted into her eyes, needing to read the emotions chasing themselves through them as best he could. She looked away.

  “Now isn’t the time—”

  “Whose is it supposed to be?”

  “Yours,” she murmured.

  Castien’s world came crashing down. His jaw fell open and he released her hands. Whatever expression was on his face had the effect of a blow to Raziela. Her face crumpled and she bowed her head so that her hair slid forward to shield her. The sight tore at him in ways he’d never felt before.

  Gently, he caught her shoulder and tilted her chin up until she met his gaze. even with his blurry vision he could see her pride repairing itself, building a wall of indifference for her to hide behind.

  “If the thought doesn’t interest you,” she said a little too quickly, “I can find someone else. Please don’t feel obligated. After all, you’re only the first man I’ve met since I came here. It would be foolish of me not to see what the rest of Phalyra has to offer.”

  He was ready to shake her for that. He scowled.

  “Sorry, Priestess, but I’m not going to just wait around on standby while you test run other men—I know that’s not what you meant,” he interrupted.

  “Then you’re saying you’re not interested.”

  “I’d stop putting words in my mouth if I were you.”

  He could make out her features now, the faint puckered line between her brows as
she tried to work out what he meant.

  “Raziela, a man like me doesn’t deserve a woman like you.”

  “Oh.” At the sound of her disappointment, he couldn’t help but grin.

  “That’s why I’ll cherish every moment with you I’m allowed to have.”

  It took her a moment, but when she realized what he was saying, she flung her arms around his neck and they toppled over backward. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her lips down to meet his. For someone who’d never known hunger, she devoured him with her kiss. Tears of relief slid down her face. One even landed in his eye.

  He blinked, but when it cleared, so had his sight.

  40.

  “Raziela?” A weak, reedy voice spoke from the shadows. Slinging her behind him, Castien rose to one knee snatching one of her daggers from her hip. Raziela picked up a large chunk of stone.

  “Who’s there?”

  Caprea hobbled toward them. She had one arm wrapped around her waist and her bark had turned a pale gray. Her knees buckled, and Raziela dropped her rock to rush to her side.

  “Caprea, what happened?”

  “You told the willows how to find Vitales. We had to hold back your secrets or else those humans would have found the Tree.” Even wounded, Caprea still managed to sound prickly with disapproval.

  “You’re going to be all right.” Raziela made it a statement but her voice wobbled with fear. Caprea nodded and turned her face to the sky.

  “Of course I am. I am an immortal, Raziela. Just because it won’t kill me doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.” Hissing, she lifted her hand and revealed a deep cleft in her side. It was long enough that had she been a human, her organs would have spilled out. Being a tree spirit, there was only a thin slickness of sap around the woody interior.

  “There must be something I can do.” Raziela hiccuped, horrified that her secrets were the reason for her friend’s terrible wounds.

  “Leave.” The word was so brutal in its simplicity that even Castien flinched. “There is nothing left for you here. Go back to Phalyra and live that life you were always dreaming about. Go on, Raziela. Get out of here.”

  “Caprea, you’re like my sister,” Raziela whispered. “I can’t leave you like this.” She waved a hand around at the damage.