Read The Raie'Chaelia Page 21


  Chapter 20 - The Lost City of Barenthren

  “It’s beautiful!” Kirna exclaimed.

  The cavernous dome before them stretched far up into the mountain with an immense, thick column of stone supporting it in the center. A spiraling staircase, hewn into the column’s surface, led up the dome and disappeared into the darkness above where the walls were not lit. Along its length, stone bridges extended to tunneled doorways that dotted the brilliantly glowing walls, giving access to other parts of the city. From the entrance, a stone pathway led to a bubbling, golden fountain that sprayed clear water in rivulets, splashing down into a pool at its base. The pathway connected with others that spread in various directions. In between them, soft grass grew quietly underneath green, leafy canopies of trees.

  “We’re saved,” Ben said softly under his breath and released a long sigh of relief. He motioned everyone to enter.

  They led the horses in first. Then, people began pouring through the doorway in droves, resting themselves in the shady areas of the grass and staring around numbly as if they couldn’t believe their eyes. Cries of joy could be heard as families and friends were reunited with one another in tearful embraces.

  Bunejab, who had been next to Ben the whole time, immediately set to work gathering water from the fountain and treating the sick. Children approached him warily, taken aback by the sight of the little Chinuk and when he spoke to them, they giggled and ran away.

  “What is that?” Kirna asked Ben, as they stood there and ushered people by the door. She was pointing to the enormous column in the dome’s center.

  “It’s called the Toros Komun. It’s the supporting column of every underground city. Without it, the city would crumble. Although, Barenthren’s column is slightly different than others I’ve seen. It’s taller and thinner.”

  “How do you know we’re in Barenthren?”

  He pointed to the fountain. “The wellspring. You see the requin?”

  She studied the water spouts and sure enough, it was sculpted in the same fashion as the bowsprit of the Morning Dawn.

  “Oh, like on the Quaie’Miren ship,” she said.

  “Yes. That is the Requin Fountain, the wellspring of Barenthren. That’s how I know.”

  At that moment, Chalice walked up with Jeremiah behind her, placing her stone into her belt pouch.

  “Barenthren. Yeah, I saw the name on the map.” The words came out of her mouth before she could stop them and she winced.

  Oops! she thought.

  Ben stared at her in surprise. “What map? Where did you see that name?”

  “Um … I have something to tell you,” she said as he shot her a reproachful glare. She had the impression that he already knew.

  “You went sneaking around the Farahs’ castle, didn’t you?” he said knowingly and she gave him a sheepish look. “We’ll talk about this later. Not now. We need to get everyone settled in first. Then, we need to find the green room.”

  “Ben,” Jeremiah cut in, “Aemis has a broken leg. Can you—” he began, but Ben quickly interrupted him.

  “Show me where he is,” he said. “Chalice, you and Kirna stay here and shut the door after everyone passes through.”

  “Okay,” she said and then suddenly remembered the trouble she had had with the vellen in the Chinukan village. Before she could say anything, however, Ben and Jeremiah had already spotted Aemis propped up against the base of a tree and were making their way over to him. He was in a small group with Tobias, Seychelle, and what appeared to be Jeremiah’s brothers by the look of them. Jeremiah had found his friends and family so quickly, Chalice thought, and she wondered where her grandparents were. Standing there at the entrance, she kept an eye out, but she didn’t see them, nor did she see anyone from her village. There were so many people, she couldn’t spot them anywhere.

  They must have already passed through, she thought. So, she made a mental note to look for them later.

  After the last group entered, she moved to place her hand on the vella and stopped. Just then, as if it had already known what she wanted, the doors immediately began moving inward and the wide gap of darkness outside began to shrink.

  That’s strange! she thought. Shrugging it off, she turned.

  “What am I supposed to do with the horses?” Tycho asked. He was standing off to the right, holding them out of the way of the streaming people.

  “Let’s look for a place to put them. There has to be something,” Chalice said as she took the reins of Sunny and Banner and led them around the Toros Komun. Kirna and Tycho grabbed the other horses and followed.

  They stopped at various doors along the way and each time she moved to touch the wall, the door opened before she reached it. It was the strangest thing, she thought. She couldn’t figure it out. Before, she couldn’t get the vellen to work at all, but now she didn’t even need to touch them.

  Weird! she thought.

  Finally, they came to a door that opened to the smell of dust, grass, and hay. It was, in short, the same smell as the Chinukan stable room that she had been in before. It also had a similar layout except it was much larger, taking up the entire room. Another difference was a stream that ran through the pasture. It flowed in from the left, through a tunnel in the stone next to the fence and out on the other side in the same fashion.

  Chalice leaned over the fence to peer down the tunnel from which the water flowed and noticed the trough was a manmade watercourse that purposefully channeled the water into and out of the room. To her surprise, she realized it had been engineered this way. Opening a door to the left of the fence, she peered into a large room that seemed to be made to hold livestock. She noted that the same stream of water flowed into and out of that room as well. Then, she closed the door.

  Sighing in relief, she led the horses into the stable, unburdening them of the saddles and bags, which she placed on the stone table in the tack room. As soon as they were released into the pasture, the horses ran playfully, bucking and kicking. She remembered how happy Sunny and Banner had been in stable room before and smiled. What a relief it was to be there, away from the dangers that lurked on the land above. After Kirna and Tycho had finished with the other horses, they left the room and saw Ben and Jeremiah approaching.

  “How is everyone?” Kirna asked.

  “I’ve done everything I can. Bunejab is doing the rest,” Ben said. “Many of them are extremely malnourished so we need to find the green room soon.”

  “The green room?” Tycho asked curiously. “What’s that?”

  “You’ll see,” Jeremiah said. “It’s pretty cool.”

  They searched around, checking each chamber as they went. They found many rooms that had no doors, just archways, and seemed to have been used as various shops. One was clearly a bakery, with a wide stone oven and rusting metal utensils for baking. Another was a huge kitchen and dining room combined, large enough to seat and feed a small village. The chamber next to it was a huge round room with a vaulted ceiling and an enormous round swimming pool of hot water located in its center. Tendrils of steam rose from its surface and flowed out of the vents above. Chalice noted that water flowed in and out of the room in the same manner as the stream in the stable room. When she asked why the water was so hot, Ben explained that there must have been a naturally occurring hot spring nearby.

  Continuing their search, they found a large, oval room that appeared to be a theatre. The stone seats sloped downwards to a stage where plays and musical performances could be held. They didn’t find any musical instruments, however. The only remaining items they could find were either made of metal, stone, or fireclay, such as the jars and pots they took with them to fill with food. Everything else had disintegrated into dust, even the mattresses in the apartments. All the stone bed frames were filled with soft sand that had accumulated over the eons that Barenthren had lain abandoned, and thick layers of dust and cobwebs covered almost everything.
r />   Then, they discovered doors that opened into strange rooms. One had a tall stone altar in its center. The altar, shaped as a hexagon, was completely flat and bare except for a small, circular basin in the middle. Strange marks and inscriptions were etched into the walls all around it. Another room they found had similar inscriptions cut into the stone and led to a chamber that contained a large sarcophagus. Apparently it was a tomb. Chalice stopped and walked into the vestibule. She recognized one of the markings. It was a circle with five lines extending from its perimeter and connecting in its center. She knew it immediately.

  “Ben, why is the Star of the Ielierian here?” she asked as she looked around. There were stars all over the walls.

  “That is not the Star of the Ielierian,” he said and she stared at him in confusion. “Well, to us it is, but when these inscriptions were made, that symbol did not mean the same thing.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Barenthren was one of the cities that was cut off from the underground world after the great quake. After that, the people living here developed separately from the rest of our civilization.” He paused and pointed to the symbol. “You see, this symbol we inherited from the people of the Ancient World. To them, it represented the heavens and the place where souls go after death. That is why you see them in this tomb.” They were all staring at him, listening intently as he spoke.

  “This is the tomb of an ancient king of Barenthren. These texts describe the journey of his soul into the afterlife, a place that they associated with the heavens and the stars. For the ancients, the afterlife was not a place of darkness or death, but a place of great light, joy, and immortality. They thought that calling people who have passed on ‘the dead’ was a mistake because according to them, the dead are more alive than we are. This antechamber we are in is a sort of … chamber of knowledge, if you will. Etched into these walls are some the oldest surviving scriptures of the Ancient World, symbols from original manuscripts, which now exist only in fragments. This is knowledge from the ancient traditions of the Golden Age stretching far back beyond our collective memory. We’re looking at the legacy of a time long gone, of the people of the Ancient World and of the early Terravail.”

  “These stars are very similar to the ones we saw in the astronomy tower.”

  “Yes, they are the same, in fact.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because we’re not permitted to talk about what’s in the underground cities when we leave them. We are made to swear an oath.”

  That’s strange, Chalice thought. She pointed to another marking she recognized in a different set of inscriptions. This one she knew well.

  “Why is my birthmark here?”

  “I wondered when you were going to notice that,” he said. “In the Ancient World, that symbol represented a concept that was a combination of enlightenment, wisdom, and knowledge. Today, it means something else.”

  “So, both these symbols, they have a different meaning now? They have evolved?”

  “Yes, with what we know today through the Readers, they have a completely new meaning.”

  “Which is?” she asked.

  “Shouldn’t we get going?” Tycho interrupted.

  “No, Tycho, this is important. Please, just be patient,” Ben said. “The Star of the Ielierian was coined by the Reader, Lavoan Todorine, one of your ancestors, Chalice. It is the symbol for an entity that has no true name, but has had many names given to it throughout the ages. We call it the Ji.”

  “The Ji, what is that?”

  “In their search for knowledge, the early Terravailian Readers discovered it. It is the source of all things and of all worlds, the source of the entire multiverse. It is the place we come from when we are born and the place we return to when we die. It is also the source from which the avie flows and gives us our power, and as I said before, although we call it the Ji, it is nameless. That is, there isn’t just one name for it. There can’t be, for all things are born from it, even names. The Ji is the One, or the Omni, or Other. Some have also called it God. Throughout time, the sages of the world have had many descriptions for it. There have been those who have attributed human characteristics to it, either by personifying it as one human, a triad of humans, or a pantheon of them. Then, there were those who thought it was more abstract and nonhuman, like a great spirit they attributed to the land or the sky.”

  “So, they were all wrong, then.”

  “Well, you might say that. They were all wrong, but then again, they were all right, as well. You see, the Ji will assume the form of whatever a person believes, whatever they are most familiar with or understand, and that is what they will experience when they die.”

  “That’s convenient,” she said, not really knowing how to respond. “But what if you don’t believe in any particular one of those things, like us?”

  “Ah, that is the question isn’t it? We are lucky. We know that the Ji is not describable by language, so we have more control over what we will experience when we return to it. We will make our own heaven, or if we choose to, come back into this world or go into other worlds. It was a difficult concept for people to grasp because many needed to view reality as something solid, something on the exterior, outside of themselves. They felt the need to have something ‘real’ to hold onto. They didn’t realize that true reality is inside you.”

  “But what if you believe that when you die, you cease to exist and you become nothing?”

  “Chalice, think logically about that question for a moment. How can you become nothing?”

  “Umm, I’m not sure.”

  “It’s not possible because there is always something. There is always the Ji. Those who believe in nothing after death are confusing their experiences in the physical world with that of the spiritual world. If we lose our connection to others, or our connection to the land, we feel alone, or cut off, and our souls experience that which we call the nothingness, or the emptiness. This feeling is the result of our spirit, which is profoundly connected to the Ji, experiencing what it’s like to be temporarily lost from that to which it belongs. When a person who believes in nothing returns, they are quickly disabused of this notion of nothingness. Does that make sense?”

  “Hmm, kind of,” she said. “You keep saying multiverse and talking about other worlds. I don’t understand what the multiverse is.”

  “The multiverse was discovered by Reader, Raegalia Svadir, another of your ancestors, and is the word we use for the collection of all worlds that are created by the Ji. You see, from the Ji flows the intelligence that we call life, or the avie, as I said. This intelligence condenses and forms the elements that create our multiverse. From it streams the magic that allows your soul to manifest into this world. Therefore, it is the source of all things and of all worlds. Eons ago, the ancients called our multiverse the ‘Universe’, or the ‘One World’, since our physical world here was the only one they could see visually, looking out into the stars at night. Thanks to Raegalia’s discovery, we now know there are a countless number of other ‘Universes’, other physical worlds that exist inter-dimensionally right next to ours. Before the Ice Age, the ancients were beginning to wrap their minds around this concept and understand it mathematically, but they had no means of proving it through their own methods. They didn’t have what we do now, which is the insight of the Terravail.”

  “I don’t get it. How do the Readers know this?”

  “Because there is a world that connects all the physical worlds together. It runs through all of them and binds them to the Ji. We call it the True World or the World of the Sylphen. This is the symbol for it,” he said as he pointed to her birthmark on the wall.

  “But that’s my mark! Wait a minute,” she said, frowning in thought.

  “Exactly. Now you are beginning to see. This is why this conversation is important. You need to understand what your title means. You se
e, you’re not the Raie’Chaelia because you have a rightful claim to your father’s throne. If that were the case, both your sisters could claim the same thing. No. You’re the True Princess because you’re connected to this world somehow and what that connection is, we have yet to discover. A part of it, I believe, has already been revealed.”

  “Which is?”

  “Your telepathic abilities.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “I mentioned that the True World is also called the World of the Sylphen because there are beings in the True World that can communicate mentally with those in the physical worlds. We call them the sylphen. They are the ones who make telepathic communication possible. They tell us information of happenings in the present, remind us of mistakes we have made, and warn us of things to come. They can guide events and keep a record of history through the collective conscience and memory of humans. The Terravail, like you, have special ways to contact them, but all humans in every race have a link to them through their connection to the land. The ancients could feel the sylphen as well, but they didn’t know what they were sensing. They had a word for it, but since this ability didn’t fit the criteria for their particular type of knowledge, given that they placed their faith only into that which they could physically observe, any claim to it wasn’t considered true knowledge or true insight. So, they scoffed at it and ridiculed it.”

  “I see.” She paused. She had always believed that the people of the Ancient World were so intelligent and enlightened, but in this regard, it appeared that they hadn’t been. There was something else that didn’t make sense to her. “So, why is it also called the True World?”

  “Because it is a place of justice and redemption. It is a place to which you go before you return to the Ji, that is, if you return at all. If you’re not redeemed, then you don’t. The True World is a reflection of your own true inner being. Not much is really known about it, but what we do know is that when you go there, either in a dream or in death, what you experience there is what you truly are inside. For example, if you are someone who likes to hurt other people, then that is what you’ll experience there — pain and suffering. But if you are someone who is the opposite, then you’ll experience something completely different.”

  Chalice just stood there, staring at the wall, at her symbol etched into it. She reached up and stroked her hand over it.

  “How do people know this?”

  “Mostly from the Readers, but also from those who have died and come back to life.” As he said this, her eyes and mouth gaped astonishment. “Some have, Chalice. It’s a miracle when it happens, but it has happened in the past. You see, death can’t normally be healed, but sometimes, for some reason, people have come back.”

  “Woah, trip on that!” Tycho mused.

  Ben smiled wryly. “Instead of tripping on it, Tycho, maybe you could try to learn from it a little.”

  “I would, but my brain is full. Can we leave now? This room is creeping me out.”

  “Alright, let’s go,” Ben said, motioning for them to follow. “Chalice, if you have any more questions, don’t hesitate to ask me.”

  She nodded. They all left the antechamber, except for Chalice who stood in place, staring at the symbols on the wall. Just outside, Jeremiah stopped and turned.

  “You coming?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” she replied and with that, she pulled her eyes away from the wall and followed him out the door.

  At last, they found the green room where Kirna and Tycho stood, gaping. Like the green room in the Chinukan village, it was enormous, but it was wild and unkempt. Various vegetable plants and shrubs were overgrown and deserted, and many crop fields lay barren and untended for years. There were, however, a multitude of different trees that offered a plentiful supply of fruits and nuts. Chalice noted that there was a stream moving through the dome, similar to the stable room. She also saw that this green room sported the same irrigation system of the Maehbeck farm.

  “This watering system,” she said to Ben, “I saw it on the Maehbecks’ farm. I also saw it in the green room in Bunejab’s village. There are so many similarities between the Maehbecks’ farm and these underground dwellings. Did the Terravail engineer them?”

  “No,” Ben answered. “They are crafts we learned, or I should say we inherited from the people of the Ancient World.” He paused, then added: “Nathaniel shouldn’t be employing them on his farm. I will have to talk to him about that when I see him.”

  “Why not?”

  But the reason why Chalice didn’t find out because, at that moment, Tycho exclaimed: “This is the green room?!” He looked over at Ben and motioned toward the trees. “Can we?”

  “Be my guest,” he said, motioning them forward.

  They scurried ahead with the fireclay pots that they had collected from the kitchen and began to fill them. When they were done, they left the room, made their way back to the villagers, and began to distribute the food. Kirna stopped by the water fountain, where she filled jars with drinking water.

  The villagers who were strong enough were directed by Ben to the kitchen to collect pots and then to the green room, where they gathered food for their friends and family. A baby’s hoarse cry caught Chalice’s attention and she looked over to find the woman she had seen earlier in the tunnel who had been clutching the baby to her breast. Bunejab was there, spooning something into its mouth.

  It’s not dead after all! Chalice smiled. Thank heaven for that little Chinuk.

  Chalice sat down at the base of the tree, next to Aemis. The villagers of Branbury who were well enough had left the group to head for the green room. Only a few of them remained, huddled around the tree.

  “How are you?” she asked him. “You look better.”

  “Good! I feel so much better. I think everybody does,” he said as he took a bite of an orange that he had just peeled. “It’s awful what they do to people. You have no idea.”

  “Oh no, we do,” Jeremiah said. “We know exactly what they do, believe me. They don’t just torture people, they terrorize them.”

  Aemis nodded. “Yeah, that’s right. How do you know?”

  “We’ve had a few run-ins with them,” Chalice said, looking up at Jeremiah. Just then, her heart skipped a beat when she looked past him and saw a tall, thin woman with long, dark hair who was standing in a crowd of people, handing out fruit. She knew her. She knew all of them. Leaping from the ground, she bolted over to them.

  “Marie!” she shouted. Kirna and Tycho followed close behind her, rushing to their parents and embracing them in a tight hug.

  “Chalice!” Marie exclaimed and set down her pot, rushing over to hug her. “We saw you in the tunnel, but we didn’t want to interrupt.”

  Chalice glanced around furiously, searching for every familiar face she could find.

  “There are so few, Marie. Where is everybody?”

  Marie shook her head. “When the village was attacked, many tried to fight, but they died. The village was completely destroyed. The Draaquans don’t like it when you fight back. Once we realized we weren’t going to win, we didn’t see the point. Luckily, we managed to get all of the children out of the village before we were loaded onto the ship. Then, we had a few die in the prison.” Just as Marie had finished, the face Chalice had been waiting to see for a long time appeared in the crowd and walked up to her, smiling.

  “Hi, honey. I am so proud of you!” Grandma Naelli said. Her grandmother had once been a dark beauty, but age and the stress of the last six months had worn on her and she now looked older than ever. Chalice glanced around. Papa was not with her.

  She looked at her Grandmother with pleading eyes. “Papa, where is he?” she asked and Grandma Naelli shook her head. Then, Chalice knew and it felt like an arrow piercing her heart.

  No, not Papa! Not him!

  “You mean we left him up there?” she asked and her grandmother shoo
k her head again.

  “No, honey. He didn’t make it out of Canton. They caught him at the pigeon cages. They tried to get information out of him and when he didn’t give it to them, they … they …” She stopped, unable to continue, tears streaming down her cheeks. Chalice hugged her grandmother fiercely. After a long while, she eventually let go.

  “Gramma, you need to get some food and rest.”

  “No, Chalice, you do,” Jeremiah said softly behind her. She hadn’t even heard him walk up. “You also need to have Bunejab tend your shoulder. It’s soaked in blood again.” Chalice glanced down and found that he was right.

  “What happened?” her grandmother asked.

  “Oh, I just got cut,” she replied. “It’s not serious.”

  “The apartments are over there.” Jeremiah pointed. “I’ll go get Buney.”

  “Gramma, this is Jeremiah,” Chalice said. “Do you remember him?”

  Her grandmother eyed the young man who towered over her with an expression of wonder. “Jeremiah?! You have grown! And into such a tall, handsome young man!” She reached up and placed her hands on his cheeks as he smiled down at her.

  “You want to come with us, Gramma?” Chalice asked her.

  Grandma Naelli turned to her and shook her head. “Not right now. You go ahead. I’ll stay here with everyone for a while and help the sick.” Chalice frowned at her in protest, but her grandmother insisted. “Really, honey, I am fine. I’ll join you later.”

  She finally conceded, and giving her grandmother one last hug, left. After stopping by the stable to gather her bags, she headed for the apartments. Again, she found that the doors opened for her easily. Choosing an apartment she liked, she left the door open for Bunejab and Jeremiah. After a few minutes, they appeared in the door with Ben and she looked at him curiously.

  “I came for your daieoden,” Ben said.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “I’m going make a cord for it so you can hang it around your neck, like your amulet.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  She removed it from her belt pouch and handed it to him. He took it and left. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the little Chinuk. Glancing down, she found him standing at her side in anticipation, pointing to her shoulder. She smiled.

  “Alright, hold on, Buney. Let me get cleaned up first. I’ll be right back.”

  All she wanted was to get away and have a moment to herself. The idea of soaking in a hot bath was soothing and she was impatient for it. As she left the room, she noticed Jeremiah who had placed his saddlebag on the kitchen table and was pulling something out of it wrapped in cloth.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I’m going to make a stew with some of the vegetables from the green room and dried meat I still have in my bag,” he answered. As he pulled out a metal pot from the cupboard, Bunejab chittered at him. “You don’t have to help me, Buney, but you can if you want to. I would have given you some anyway.”

  Chalice’s stomach growled. “Mmm, stew, that sounds good,” she mumbled to herself and her face brightened a little at the thought of his cooking.

  At least it’s something to look forward to, she thought. I don’t think I can take any more bad news today.

  She strode over to the first bed chamber and waited, expecting the door to open before she touched it. It didn’t move. Puzzled, she placed her palm on the vella and it still didn’t budge.

  Hmm, okay, this is passing strange! she thought and called for help. Bunejab waddled over and placed his tiny hand on the circle. It opened instantly.

  “Thanks!” she said as they entered and he turned on the light for her. When he went to close the door behind her, she stopped him.

  “Wait!” she said. “I think it’s better leave it open for now.” She didn’t want to get stuck in the room with no way out in case she couldn’t open it again. Bunejab chittered something at her and went back into the kitchen to help Jeremiah.

  Then, it suddenly occurred to her why she couldn’t open the door. Ben had her stone. She remembered what he had said when she mentioned that she hadn’t been able to get the vellen to work: It takes a few tries. In the future, your daieoden will help. Nodding her head, she continued into the chamber and set down her bags.

  She found a huge stone bed frame filled with soft sand, a stone writing table and a washroom that she quickly entered. The washroom had all the amenities of the Maehbecks’ house except for wash towels, soda water, and soap.

  Oh well, she thought. I’ll have to do without.

  She peeled off her riding dress and slip that seemed to cling to her body from the dampness of the cold stream through which she and Jeremiah had waded. Turning the left-hand knob above the large stone tub, she filled it with hot spring water, letting it drain at first to clean the dirt that had settled at the bottom. As soon as it had cleared, she plugged the drain with a stone stopper that she had found on the wash table, lying next to a pumice stone that she snatched up as well.

  The water felt good and the warmth seeped into her, relaxing and loosening her muscles and joints. Scooping it into her hands, she washed her face, neck and arms. The pumice stone she used to scratch off all the dirt, grime and dead skin.

  Then, all at once, crushing grief bore down upon her and she let the tears streak down her cheek and fall, one by one, into the water. Her grandfather was dead, her home was destroyed, and she could never go back. She would never have the home again that she had known growing up. It was gone.

  Suddenly, she looked down and noticed a swirl of blood in the water. It had trickled from her bandage that had gotten wet along the edges. So, she lifted her right arm and set it on the edge of the tub. She had to be careful so her bandage wouldn’t get wet and slip off. She knew what would happen if it did. The blood would pour out and she wouldn’t be able to stop it. Then, she would have to call for Bunejab and Jeremiah, which would be extremely embarrassing, she thought, without anything to cover her.

  When she was done, she drained the tub and removed her woolen blanket from her bag. Wrapping it around her, she re-entered the sitting room. Bunejab had a fire roaring on the hearth that he had made with dry wood from the green room. The smell of fresh herbs in cooking stew filled the room and Chalice’s stomach growled again. The velarium in the wall shone softly and the feeling that it gave her was the same she had had in the apartment of Bunejab’s village — that all was right with the world and that there was nothing to fear. It was almost a false sense of security, she thought, as she knew that just above them on the mountaintop, there were men who were, at this moment, searching for her to kill her.

  Bunejab waddled up and set to tending her shoulder. As soon as he had removed her bandage, she saw that it was just as she had thought. The wound had re-opened and blood flowed from it freely. He had to apply a treated compress on it immediately. He held it in place tightly for a few minutes. The compress had an herbal smell and when he removed it, the blood had stopped. Then, Bunejab cleaned the wound and wiped a salve on it that removed the soreness before he re-wrapped it. Frustrated, he chittered furiously while he worked.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Chalice asked Jeremiah.

  “He can’t figure out why your wound isn’t healing properly. He says he’s tried everything he knows,” Jeremiah answered as he set the table. “I think the stew is ready. Are you hungry?” He removed the pot from the oven and set it on the table.

  “For your cooking? Are you kidding?” she said and he smiled. “I’ll be right back,” she added and went to dress into her night clothes which were a small cotton shirt and pants that she had brought with her from Canton.

  When she rejoined them, her grandmother was there. They ate heartily as Jeremiah filled in her grandmother on the events that had happened since the raid on Canton. Grandma Naelli was amazed to discover everything they had been through and done to get there. She was very prou
d of both of them and said as much. She was also grateful to Jeremiah for the dinner he had prepared for them.

  “It’s nice to have someone else do the cooking for a change,” she commented.

  When they were finished, Chalice suddenly felt fatigue wash over her. Swaying, she could barely sit up straight. She thought about how they had spent the whole night running through the fortress and knocking down walls. Although she was young and strong, the effort of it, she realized, hit her like a ton of blocks.

  “I’m gonna go lie down,” she said. “Thanks for dinner, Jeremiah.”

  “Don’t mention it. I think we’re all going to get some shut-eye, too,” he replied, cleaning the table.

  She strode into her bedchamber and laid her woolen blanket over the soft sand in the bed frame. Curling up in the nook the sand had formed underneath her blanket, she fell fast asleep and into the dream.

  A soft blue light radiated from the chamber to her left as she walked down the long, white corridor. She did not turn into the room, however, but stayed her course and followed it to the staircase before her. She knew where she needed to go. She had been here many times before, but this time it was different. She could feel it. This time she would make it.

  She ascended the stairs and walked the length of the corridor to the outer courtyard knowing that she would see the rising sun and hear the cries of the ocean birds overhead. When she entered the ward and looked out over the watery horizon, she found that she could turn around and finally see her quarry behind her after all this time. What she saw, she was not expecting. On the dais, at the other end of the ward, she saw a fair-haired man in white robes, shackled to an altar.

  What is this? she wondered. Slowly, she walked up and peered down at him. He stared back at her, unmoving. She could see the question in his blue eyes. Who are you? they asked. Looking at him was like looking at herself as his eyes, she thought, were a reflection of her own. Unlike hers, however, they were sad and haunted, as if all the despair, desolation, and misery of the whole world dwelt inside them. In them, she could sense the feeling of absolute hopelessness and she felt that she had to do something to help him, but when she reached down to fumble at the chains, her hand stopped abruptly, blocked by some invisible force, and her fingers could not reach. He was completely bound.

  He looked at her as if to say: “It’s no use. There’s nothing you can do.”

  Stubbornly, she refused to accept this. “I will help you. I will find a way,” she said. She had no idea who he was or how she would unchain him, but she knew she would, eventually.

  Then, unexpectedly, the world shifted into darkness and she opened her eyes to see Jeremiah lying next to her, drawing in the deep breath of sleep. He had moved and accidentally nudged her.

  He must have crawled in with me after I fell asleep, she thought and stroked his cheek. Then, she fell back into a deep slumber, not into the dream this time, but into visions and flashbacks of her life at home and of Papa by the fireside. When she re-awoke, Jeremiah was gone and she found herself alone in the room.

  I must have slept a long time, she thought as she felt completely renewed. Yawning and stretching, she rose from the bed and dressed into a fresh outfit. When she found the apartment empty, she left. As she made her way out to the main dome of the city, she noticed that others had settled into the apartments nearby. They had left the exit wide open and she walked out. Proceeding around the Toros Komun, she heard shouts.

  “Hey!” someone exclaimed.

  “How’d he do that?” another added. “That’s not fair!”

  The shouts were coming from a group of people near the fountain. Jeremiah was also there, writing in his notebook. She strode up next to them and noticed that, next to the fountain, a line was drawn on the stone with chalk. Two paces beyond it, what looked like a wide ladder with eleven rungs was sketched onto the stone as well. Three members of the large group held what looked like dark red, marble balls. Bunejab stood to the left of everyone, holding three of the red balls as well.

  “What are you playing?” she asked.

  “Bracketball! You want to play?” the man at the head of the line asked. He was a tall, young man with dark hair and a mustache. He had a comical air about him and his eyes twinkled jovially as he spoke.

  “Chalice, this is Jarrod Baquo,” Jeremiah said. “He, his wife, Cheyenne, and Royce Fetter own the bakery in our village.”

  He motioned to each of them. Cheyenne was a petite redhead with blue eyes and wore a blue country dress. The man next to her, who Jeremiah had introduced as Royce, resembled her as though they could have been twins.

  “Nice to meet you,” Chalice said. “I’ve heard of this game. How do you play?”

  “Well, you see this?” Jarrod said, motioning to the drawing on the ground. She nodded. “Each rectangle is a bracket that has a value in between one and ten. No two brackets can have the same value. We play either with two people, or with two teams, and the object of the game for each team is to roll their three balls into the highest scoring bracket from the boundary line, here,” he said pointing to the line near the fountain. “Once the balls have stopped rolling, the value of each bracket is added up to a total. After each team has rolled, the totals are compared and the team with the highest score wins.”

  “What is the value of each bracket?” she asked.

  “Ah, that’s the trick,” he said. “That’s why we need the arbiter, which in this game is Jeremiah, because we needed a translator for him,” Jarrod said, pointing to Bunejab. Chalice looked over and the little Chinuk grinned at her, his tiny black eyes sparkling with amusement. “The arbiter keeps score and makes sure that no one is cheating. Each team sets the brackets’ score for the other and tells the arbiter, who keeps a record of it. Then, the team who rolls gets three yes-no questions to discover something about the values the other team has placed into the brackets. In answering, the other team can either choose to lie or tell the truth, but not both. They tell this to the arbiter as well.”

  “So how does that help?” she asked.

  “If the questions are skillfully put, you can tell, not only whether or not the team is lying, but you can also tell something about the values of the brackets.” She frowned and he said: “Let me give you an example. Let’s say the team asks: ‘Are the values placed in numerical order?’ and the other team says: ‘No.’ Then you know that they may or may not be in numerical order depending on if they are lying or telling the truth. Then, the team asks: ‘Is the sky blue?’ and the other answers: ‘No.’ Then, they ask: ‘Is the highest value in the farthest bracket?’ and the answer is again: ‘No.’ Then you know that they have chosen to lie and that the values are placed in numerical order with the highest value being in the farthest bracket.”

  “But that’s not necessarily true,” she said. “Because they sky isn’t always blue. At dawn and dusk it is a golden red, on a cloudy day it is grey, and at night it is black. So in that case, they are telling the truth.”

  “Ah, very good! That is correct,” he replied. “That is why you have to be careful in wording your question. In this case, you would need to ask: ‘Is the sky blue during a clear midsummer day?’”

  “Ah, I see. So, it is not just a game of skill and hand-eye coordination, but it is also a game of cunning and deceit as well.”

  “Exactly!”

  “In that case, count me in!” she said and glanced over at Bunejab. “Buney, you playin’ too?” she asked the little Chinuk and he nodded.

  “Yeah, it’s him against all of us,” Jarrod said.

  “Isn’t that kind of unfair?” she asked.

  “Yes it is!” Jarrod said in exasperation. “Because he keeps winning!”

  Chalice smiled inwardly to herself because she knew why, but before she could say it, an amused voice resounded behind them.

  “Well, the Chinuka are probably the most intelligent creatures in Naeo’Gaea and
he is smarter than the average Chinuk,” Ben said. “It’s not what he says that is usually important. It’s what he doesn’t say.”

  “Okay, well, in that case, I’m making up a new rule,” Jarrod said. “I’m calling it the Chinukan handicap rule. Jeremiah, write this down …”

  “You can’t do that!” Royce interrupted.

  “Sure I can! I invented the game.”

  “Yes, you did, but you can’t just make up rules whenever you want,” Cheyenne scolded him.

  “And why not?”

  “Because—” But the reason why, they never found out for Ben gasped loudly and everyone turned to look at him. He was holding one of the balls that Bunejab had handed him and his stone was glowing softly.

  “Wait a minute!” he said. “Where did you get these?”

  “Over there, in that room with the weird altar,” Jarrod answered, pointing in the direction of the strange rooms they had discovered.

  “These aren’t game balls,” Ben said. “They are oriclae.”

  “Uh, oriclae? What?” Jarrod asked.

  “I didn’t think there were any left,” Ben said, turning to Chalice, “but when we were at the Farahs and you had that headache out of nowhere, I had my suspicions. And the fact that they are here tells me some very interesting things.” He paused and scratched his chin. “Very interesting indeed!”

  She could see in his expression that he had the answer to a question he had been wondering for a long time. When he looked up and saw the confused look on her face, he explained.

  “They are a special sort of Terravailian daietych and are very valuable. I’m sorry you all, but the game is over. I need to confiscate these.”

  Everyone groaned with disappointment and reluctantly handed the balls over. Ben, however, didn’t want to interrupt their fun.

  “Maybe you can use something else. I saw some oranges in that pot over there,” he said, pointing to a fireclay pot that sat on the grass.

  “That might work!” Jarrod agreed and ran over to collect them.

  Ben turned to Chalice. “Here you go.” He handed her stone to her on which he had fashioned a leather cord that held it firmly in place.

  “Thanks!” She placed it around her neck. Then, Ben turned to the little Chinuk.

  “Bunejab, come with me,” he said and the two strode off around the Toros Komun. Just then, Jarrod and Royce strode up with six oranges.

  “Well, I guess these will have to do,” Jarrod said. “You still playing, Chalice?”

  “Of course,” she said. “I’ll take Bunejab’s spot, since he’s gone.”

  “You’re going to challenge all of us?” Royce asked with a condescending smile, as if he didn’t believe for one minute that she could beat them at a game she had just learned.

  “Yup!” she responded confidently and looked at Jeremiah, who smiled and winked at her. He knew how tricky she was.

  “You want to go first?” Jarrod asked.

  “You can if you want,” she said and Jeremiah handed her the notebook on which she wrote her values for each bracket, starting with the closest bracket first and ending with the last. The numbers she wrote in succession were: one, two, three, four, five, ten, nine, eight, seven, and six. Next to the numbers she wrote: ‘Truth,’ which told Jeremiah that she would answer their three questions truthfully. Handing the notebook and pen back to him, she said: “Okay, ask me a question.”

  They huddled together in a low murmur for a few minutes, deciding which question to ask first. Then, finally Jarrod turned around and asked: “Are your eyes blue?”

  “Yes,” she replied.

  “Are the values placed in numerical order?”

  “Yes,” she replied again and a triumphant smile appeared on Jarrod’s face.

  “Is the largest value placed in the last bracket?”

  “No,” she answered and at that, they rolled their oranges as best they could into the nearest bracket. Jeremiah smiled slightly and tallied the score. By the expression on his face, Chalice knew that he had caught the trick. Then, he flipped the page of his notebook and handed it to Jarrod and the others. In a huddle, they muttered softly and scribbled onto the paper. Then, they returned it him.

  “Your turn,” he said.

  Chalice turned to Jarrod. “Is the sky outside blue on a clear midsummer day?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is the highest score placed in or next to the last bracket?” she asked and there were low murmurs of: ‘Can she do that?’ and ‘Can she ask that?’

  “Yes, she can,” Jeremiah said, putting an end to the questioning. “Jarrod, your answer?”

  “No,” Jarrod replied.

  “Is the highest score placed in or next to the two middle brackets?”

  Jarrod turned to Jeremiah. “Can she ask that?”

  “Is it a yes or no question?” Jeremiah replied and Jarrod scowled.

  Realizing that it was definitely a legitimate yes or no question, he said: “Okay, you’re right. The answer to the last question is no.”

  Chalice smiled and rolled her oranges so that each one stopped rolling in one of the first three brackets.

  Jeremiah tallied the score and said: “Chalice wins with a score of twenty-one.”

  “What?!” Jarrod and Royce snapped back in unison. “How can she win? Our score was thirty.”

  “No, it wasn’t,” Jeremiah responded. “Your total score came to three.” The corners of Jeremiah’s mouth were twitching upward and Chalice could tell he was trying not to laugh.

  Jarrod spluttered. “Wait a … what?! How? She said that the values were in numerical order and that the highest score wasn’t in the last bracket.”

  “It wasn’t,” Jeremiah responded and showed him the page where Chalice had written the bracket values. Jarrod stared down at the notebook in confusion.

  “You see,” Chalice explained, “you asked if the values were in numerical order, which is true. Some of them are. But you didn’t ask if all of the values were in numerical order. If you had, I would have said no.” Jarrod turned to Jeremiah with an indignant glare.

  “I’m sorry, but Chalice is right,” Jeremiah said, shrugging his shoulders. “You didn’t specify it.”

  “Ah, beginner’s luck!” Royce said.

  “That’s not fair!” Jarrod continued to protest.

  “What’s not fair?” Cheyenne asked. “Jeremiah is the arbiter and the arbiter settles disputes. What he says, goes. In my opinion, he’s a fair judge. That is why we have always selected him as the arbiter.” When Jarrod continued to scowl, she frowned at him reproachfully. “You made the rules, Jarrod,” she added and he shrank back from her stare.

  “Hmm,” he said as his stare lingered frustratedly on Chalice for a moment. “I want the Chinuk back.”

  Ironically, just as he said it, Chalice felt a tug on her sleeve and looked down to find Bunejab chittering something at her. She turned to Jeremiah.

  “He says that Ben wants to see you,” Jeremiah replied to her silent question.

  “Oh, alright,” she said. “Lead the way, Buney.”

  As she followed him, she noticed that they were headed in the direction of the strange rooms where they had seen the wall inscriptions. Bunejab passed the entrance to the tomb and stopped at the doorway to the room with the strange altar. When she peered in, Ben was standing behind it with one of the dark red balls in his hand.

  “What’s going on, Ben?” she asked as she entered the room. She glanced back, but Bunejab had already left.

  “I have something to teach you,” he said and she nodded as she approached the altar. “The only known oricle that ever existed, until now, was in the possession of Paelianna. She confiscated it from Dar’Baren before she imprisoned him. He had been trying to use it on her, but was unsuccessful.”

  “Was that the weapon he created, then? The one she died trying to destroy?”

  “No, unfortunately not. For a long ti
me, I thought it was until that morning at the Farahs, when you suddenly had that headache. Now, I know that the weapon had to have been something else.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t follow.”

  “An oricle is very dangerous. With it, you can break into somebody’s mind, but you have to be strong enough and you have to know their location. When you break in, you can see everything they can see, including their thoughts and memories, and if you are skilled enough, you can control their decisions and actions without them even knowing. However, if someone’s mind is too strong, you cannot breach it. In that case, all the person will feel is a—”

  “A splitting headache,” she interrupted, finally understanding.

  “Exactly. I think that’s how they knew we were at the Farahs’ castle. Also, no one has really known where the Maaldanese came from, until now. We have always believed that they came from Barenthren because of Dar’Baren’s name, which means ‘of Baren.’ But we had no proof. This discovery has confirmed it. Dar’Baren was indeed among the first of the Maaldanese.”

  “Oh,” she said. “So, what is this?” She motioned to the altar.

  “This is a quiosque.”

  “A what?”

  “An altar on which you can read from the stones. I’m going to show you how to use this,” he said and held up the oricle. The others had been placed neatly in the corner of the chamber.

  “Oh, cool!” she said excitedly as he placed the stone in the middle of the altar into the small basin at its center and looked at her.

  “Alright, I’m going to attempt to break into your mind. If I succeed, this oricle should start to move. At the same time, I want you to concentrate on something and not let your thoughts stray. It has to be something that grasps your attention firmly.”

  “Okay,” she said and knew exactly what to do. It was the thing upon which she had been concentrating her whole life. The thing that had sat in the back of her mind unknown for so long, until now.

  “Go,” he said and his stone glowed a soft grey. She looked at her hands and concentrated intensely. After a few minutes she began to feel the sharp pain again, the pain she had felt at the Farahs’ castle. Ben’s stone glowed brighter and the pain intensified until it was all she could do to keep a straight face. He watched the oricle with anticipation, but it continued to lay still, unmoving. Then, suddenly the pain in her head subsided and Ben let go of his power. “You have a strong mind Chalice. I couldn’t break it and I was using all my strength.”

  “Can I try?” she asked.

  “Sure.”

  “How do I do it?”

  “Just as you were concentrating to keep me from breaching your mind, you need to concentrate with the same intensity on the person whose mind you intend to breach. Concentrate on them and where they are. Put all your thought into it.”

  “Alright, here goes,” she said and closed her eyes. In the back of her mind she saw the blue pulsating gem again, like the one in her dreams. She concentrated on Ben and where he was. When she opened her eyes, her stone was glowing bright blue. She found that using it was as natural as breathing. She did it without even thinking.

  After a few moments, the oricle started to spin. It was slow at first, but the more she concentrated, the faster it moved, until it became hot and sparks flew from it. Then, suddenly, bright light shot out in all directions and an image formed in its center. She peered into it and saw a young man with a familiar face. It was a face much like her own. She knew it. She had seen it already in her dreams, although there, it was much older. And those eyes, they were hers. Abruptly, she broke off her concentration. The oricle’s light instantly disappeared and it sat motionless in its socket.

  “Who was that?” she asked and Ben sighed in frustration and gave up, knowing he had been defeated.

  “That wasn’t bad for your first try. Not bad at all.”

  “Umm, thanks,” she said, not really interested in how well she had done. “Who was that, just now? That man you were just thinking of.”

  “That was your father, King Duquaine, when he was your age. I was the one who trained him back then. Teaching you just now reminded me of that. That must have been what you saw.”

  Of course, that was him. She had already known, but she still had to confirm it. Piecing information together in her mind, she had an idea.

  “Ben, the World of the Sylphen.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “This is a bit off-subject isn’t it?”

  “Well, yes, but this world …”

  “Yes?”

  “You told me that you can dream yourself into it, right? You said something like that.”

  “Yes, I did and yes, you can. Dreaming is a channel through which a person can see into the True World.”

  “But can you actually enter it, that is, can you enter it physically?”

  “Go physically into the World of the Sylphen?” He paused and scratched his chin, frowning. “Hmm, I’ve never heard of that. It doesn’t really seem possible … and yet …”

  “What?”

  “Well, there is a children’s rhyme that is related to it. So, I wonder if there is a connection. It goes something like this: ‘Sprinkle fairy dust on an angel’s wing and fly to the land where the sylphen sing. Across the ocean and over the abyss. Through the darkness of the devil’s kiss. Sprinkle fairy dust on an angel’s wing and fly to the land where the sylphen sing.’”

  She looked at him in shock. “That’s pretty dark for a children’s rhyme!”

  “Actually, you will find many like that. There is another one about a plague that hit before the Ice Age. It killed many people. Now it is remembered as a small song and dance that children do on the playground.” She looked appalled and he explained. “It’s a strange thing, Chalice, but this seems to be the way children’s minds deal with deep, uncomfortable issues … through nursery rhymes and games. In this way though, these songs sometimes give us a glimpse into the past and this particular one, the one about the sylphen, could suggest that physical presence in the True World is possible. Most, however, have interpreted this song as representing death and the soul’s journey back to the Ji.” He paused, then said: “Why do you ask?”

  She didn’t answer, but narrowed her eyes and frowned as her thoughts raced. But maybe it is talking about actually going there. Maybe, a long time ago, one of the Terravail did find a way. She continued to work it out in her mind now that she knew there was a connection between her recurring dream and her father. And maybe this Terravailian recorded the ability into a stone, she thought furiously. And maybe it was lost and forgotten, the remnant of it only remembered as a children’s rhyme! She gasped as it finally dawned on her.

  The expression must have shown on her face as well because he asked: “What is it, Chalice?”

  “The Onyx, you said that it disappeared when my father did, right?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “That’s it!” she exclaimed and he looked a question at her. “That’s what it does! That’s got to be it!”

  She suddenly knew what she had to do … But how to do it? she wondered. That was the question. She looked at him with her intense blue eyes.

  “Ben, I know where my father is.”

  Epilogue

  The servant pulled back the heavy iron door as Vlaad sauntered in. The only light came from the fire that blazed like a furnace next to the experimentation table. Lucce’s workroom was always dark, Vlaad knew, but anywhere Lucce went in the white palace was dark. The walls did not shine for him. They barely shone for anyone anymore. Over the last nineteen years, their brilliance had waned and the palace servants were forced to order stand lamps imported from Créone to light the rooms at night. Lucce himself did not use them. He preferred the dark. The dark was where he could do his best work. Tonight Vlaad had the distinct impression, however, that this room was darker than usual. An indication, he thought, of Lucce’s mood.

/>   He wasn’t afraid of him exactly, but he wondered why he had been summoned. Ronaan had already brought Lucce the news. A shame that. Ronaan had been a good warrior. It would be difficult to replace him. It was his own fault, though, he knew. He should have been there. If he had, they would already have the girl. Now, she and the prisoners had vanished without a trace and he wondered how she had done it. Even though his men had found the secret entrance, how she had managed to slip away with all of the prisoners vexed him. It was as if they had just disappeared. Vlaad knew, however, that they would not be found until the location of the Resistance was uncovered. A tough nut he had yet to crack. He knew he could do it, though. It was just a matter of time, but it would have to be soon. Dangerous rumors of what happened at Chainbridge were already starting to spread throughout the Realm, rumors, he knew, that would have to be extinguished immediately.

  As for the escape and the damage they had done to the fortress, Vlaad had sent Ronaan in to report. He had known exactly the kind of reaction the message would illicit from the Fierain and Ronaan was, after all, the one responsible for security at Chainbridge. So, why was Lucce calling for Vlaad? He brought the stone with him, just in case. He thought a little insurance would be wise. It was always best to be the bearer of good news.

  Lucce was hunched over the table, examining an oricle. When he heard Vlaad’s footsteps, he looked up and red hot firelight illumined the left side of his face. He was not happy.

  “You summoned me, my Lord?” Vlaad asked as he bowed his head.

  “Yes. I want to know what happened with the others.”

  “The others? Those who let the child escape, you mean?”

  “Yes, of course,” Lucce growled impatiently.

  “The chamber,” Vlaad answered.

  Lucce nodded, satisfied. “Good. Weakness will not be tolerated. Any Draaquan who allows himself to be defeated, especially by a female, is a disgrace,” he said in disgust.

  “Yes, my Lord. You know about the girl?”

  “Yes. I have seen her.” He paused with an expression of pure hatred on his face. “She looks like him.”

  That was true, but how did he know? Vlaad knew that he had strictly commanded the men to remain silent about it. His intention had been to have her killed before Lucce could find out. So how could he have seen her? he wondered, but he dared not ask. He dared not question the Fierain. Lucce had powers that were strange and dangerous. He also had ways of knowing things that Vlaad did not. This is why Lucce had ordered them to abandon the north sea and search near Cedarwood. He had known she was there. But how? Vlaad did not ask about that either. He knew he was already on shaky ground.

  “I am holding you responsible for this,” Lucce sneered.

  “Yes, my Lord.” Vlaad bowed his head again. “I’m sorry. I can repay you.”

  “Yes, you can and you will. I want you to kill her,” he said sternly. “I want her dead and I want you to do it. You are the only one who can. You are stronger and more cunning than anyone else. I know she is getting help from someone. Find out who it is.”

  “Yes, my Lord, and the oaths?”

  “As I told the others, she was not born under the Covenant. We now know the oaths will not protect her. That is what happens when you marry a Naeon,” he said in disgust. Vlaad knew that Lucce hated the Naeon and he also knew why, but he never mentioned it. He knew bringing up that subject with the Fierain was suicide.

  But how did he know the oaths would not protect her? Vlaad wondered but again, he dared not ask. He dared not question. It was true that Lucce could have been lying in order to punish him, but if that were the case, there were always ways to kill someone without being directly involved. If the oaths held for the girl, Vlaad would not be harmed. After all, he had done it once before and had managed to keep it a secret. If Lucce only knew that it had been him, he would never be able to explain that he had been doing him a favor. And to Vlaad, that’s exactly what it was, a favor. He would take this secret to his grave, for tonight, Lucce was more angry than Vlaad had ever seen him. He knew that appeasing him was the only way to survive. Killing him was impossible. Lucce forced oaths upon everyone near him that were more binding than any other Terravailian oaths that had ever existed. Besides which, he didn’t want to kill him. Lucce had promised Vlaad he would eventually teach him the path to immortality, a dark secret that only he knew. So, really, there was only one solution. He would have to give him the stone tonight.

  “I do have good news, my Lord.” He pulled the dark wooden box from the cloth he was holding and proffered it. Lucce took it at once, furrowing his brows, wondering what Vlaad could possibly offer him to rectify the situation. He clicked the latch and it opened. An evil smile immediately stretched across his face.

  “The Firestone,” Vlaad said darkly as he looked into his Fierain’s eyes and saw a red flame flare up behind them.

  Lucce glared intensely at him, his focus almost piercing his black mail. “It is time, I think, Vlaadren, to unleash the Naezzi.”

  Afterword

  If you have read this far, you have finished the first book of the trilogy, The Legend of the Raie’Chaelia. For information on the second book, The Firelight of Maalda, and on two prequel short stories, The Journey Begins and The Vanishing, please visit www.melissadouthit.com.

  About the Author

  Melissa Douthit grew up in North County of San Diego, California. After graduating with a Computer Science degree in Southern California, and working for a summer at the National Radio Astronomy Observatory in New Mexico, she moved to the Bay Area to work at NASA Ames Research Center for a year and then at Lawrence Livermore National Lab for another four years. From there, she moved to Monterey, California, to work at the Naval Postgraduate School on a government project for two years. She currently lives in Salt Lake City, Utah, working as a software engineer. Since high school, she has been a voracious reader of books of all genres, with an emphasis in fantasy and science fiction. Her literary work is strongly influenced by her professional experience and includes many elements of her scientific background.

 
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