• Home
  • Kyrja
  • Giya's Betrayal: Book Three of the Firebird's Daughter series Page 8

Giya's Betrayal: Book Three of the Firebird's Daughter series Read online

Page 8


  “We must destroy the shields!” she heard Sahil shouting as he came running into the room. She and Kaya had been lingering in the Shield Room when the explosion had taken place – probably right outside the building, given the intensity of the concussion she’d felt. In fact, with all the aftershocks she could feel through her feet, it sounded as though the building above her was still trying to decide whether it would settle or topple in on itself.

  “Than – you guard the door. Don’t let anyone in! Kaya, you and I must work together to destroy the shields. No one must be able to use these terrible things ever again! Come!” Sahil shouted, already drawing the symbols that made the translucent lines Aidena had seen Kaya draw before appear throughout the entire room. “You help Than,” Sahil told her, as he hurried across the room. But as she turned to obey, even though she really thought the building was going to bury the golden discs, and they should all get out instead, Giya appeared in front of Sahil.

  “No,” she said simply, then raised her hands . The next thing she knew, she was outside, laying on the ground with Sahil, Kaya, and Than lying next to her.

  * * * * * * * *

  Sighing deeply, Hadia closed her eyes for a moment, sending her husband one last kiss, then fought back the useless tears she felt welling in her eyes to turn to Eruitt. He was still in shock from the force of the explosion, but she didn’t have time to answer his questions. Instead, she placed her hands on either side of his head saying, “Be good to her.” In the next moment, she had turned herself into a hawk and was flying up into the night sky, towards the fiery Lumas. She had truly hoped she wouldn’t have to do this, but now there was no choice. With a prayer aimed at Siri Ventus for her help in this desperate endeavor, Hadia flew into the night, determined to do her part in ending the threat Sov had brought upon his people.

  Chapter Seven – Deceptions

  Amphedia seemed to be a long way ahead of her, in their race to reach Sov, which made Denit feel small and insignificant compared to her. She had already discovered, though, that distances and perceptions could be amazingly deceiving, here outside of the planet. “Atmosphere” was the correct word, she knew, without really understanding how she knew. There were a tremendous number of things she knew without knowing how she knew, and came to realize it was the crystal seed that was imbedded in her... flesh... if that was even the right word! – which was causing most of her confusion. She understood, now, that it should have been shattered, and not left intact. The shattering of the seed was what caused Sov to be reborn over and over again, and that usually took place while he was dying, engulfed in flames. She had so many questions, and absolutely no time.

  Sov had asked her to save Lumas, and even though her first duty was to the people on the planet, she felt compelled to see if there really was anything she could do for Lumas. She felt ridiculously overwhelmed by the task though. How did one speak to a moon? Ah! The information she needed was supplied as she asked it – even though she’d only asked inside her own mind. That made sense, though, since her thoughts were her own, even if the memories she was receiving were not. Denit found she really wanted to sigh out loud with frustration at the strange situation in which she found herself, but there was no point. She had to find out if there was some way to help Lumas – who was not, after all, truly a moon, but a goddess who had remade herself into a moon so that she could remain with Sov around this... what had she heard it called in her mind? Oh yes – this “jewel” of a world.

  It seemed to her, though, that a goddess should be able to unmake whatever she had made, and wondered why Lumas had not simply unmade her current form in order to save herself from harm.

  ::I am not in danger of being harmed, Denit,:: she heard very clearly in her mind, as if Lumas was standing right next to her.

  “But Sov thinks you are,” she said, unable to help herself from speaking out loud. Since there was no atmosphere in this “atmosphere,” she was unable to even hear herself speak. How would Lumas hear her?

  ::I hear you. Speak with your thoughts or with your mouth, and I will hear you.::

  You can hear my thoughts? Denit asked, thinking the words instead of speaking them.

  ::You are made by Giya of me, through Sov. I have always been able to hear your thoughts, Denit.::

  Denit found herself trying very hard not to think anything at all, so as to not give away how she felt about that particular revelation, but suspected that being embarrassed wouldn’t really help either one of them at this point. Nor did it matter, she decided, finding her resolve returning. It didn’t matter that she currently had a body that was strange to her, nor that she could do things she didn’t know she could do. It really didn’t even matter if everyone on the planet could hear what she thought. She was still herself, and that would just have to be good enough. Discovering she was, indeed, a god, and transforming into a... a... creature... didn’t change who she was inside. I may be able to do more things, or at least different things, but I am still who I have always been!

  It was odd to realize, though, how many thoughts she was thinking at any given moment. Still, she was here for a purpose.

  How are you not harmed, and yet you are on fire? Denit thought “out loud,” directing her attention at Lumas. Are you like Sov? And... like me? Will you die and rise again?

  ::Oh no, my dear child,:: Denit could actually hear Lumas’ chuckle in her mind, and decided she liked the way it felt. ::I have only stayed in this form this long for love of Sov. Once he dies, I will transform into something else entirely.::

  But why are you on fire then? Denit felt completely confused.

  ::Because time has grown too short before Sov will destroy all that he once loved. It was past time for Amphedia to take flight, and this was the only way to get her to do the right thing.::

  “But she intends to kill him!” Denit shouted out loud.

  ::There is nothing at all I can do to stop him from dying, Denit. He forgot who he was and became greedy.::

  He was scared of dying! Denit protested – wondering why she was suddenly so concerned for the one being who had so little disregard for his “children” that he not only allowed them to kill each other in order to provide him with enough energy to stay alive, but he encouraged them to do so. Why? Why was she defending him?

  ::Because you are afraid you will suffer the same fate.:: Lumas replied.

  No! Denit denied it with everything within her, but she could feel a small voice wondering if it was possible. How would she be able to avoid doing exactly what Sov... what her father had done, if she was created from him? How would she remember that she had to die over and over again in order to keep living? He had forgotten, she knew that because of the crystal seed imbedded in her abdomen. The entire history of the world was hers because of the seed. She had thought she might just crumple and die when she saw the face of her son, Jonath, as it passed through her mind’s eye while she was in flight here, but she hadn’t. She had kept flying, she had remained true. Sov had asked her to save Lumas, and so she had come.

  ::He is influencing you, even as he dies, Denit. He will try to make you give him the crystal so he can live again. ::

  Would that be such a bad thing? she heard herself ask.

  That’s when she felt Lumas reach out and slap her. Nor was it a gentle tap so she might remember who she really was, or so that she might remember she was already enough, already loved enough. No, this was a full-body slap that sent her reeling back towards the planet, out of control, her entire body throbbing with intense pain. Lumas had rebuked her; she was being punished for the crime of wanting to help her father.

  * * * * * * * *

  He wasn’t sure when the last time was he’d felt bored, but Oculis knew he didn’t like it. Amphedia was long gone, and great events were taking place all around him, but here he was, sitting in a tree in his owl form, bored half out of his mind. None of the villagers, here in Midbar, wanted to talk to him; he was an outsider, after all. And he frightened them. None
of the others who were used to dealing with outsiders were here, and although the villagers had been welcoming to the last ones who had come their way, they had been frightened of Amphedia. Nor, he supposed, was he the friendliest outsider they had ever encountered either. And he was trying so hard not to show his frustration, that it was just making him more frustrated. By now, they had all seen and experienced enough magic to understand they really wanted no part of anything that would put them in harm’s way. These people were the descendants of those who had escaped from Nohoyo, so they possessed a different kind of magic than anywhere else on the planet, and yet, they preferred to keep it hidden, to not use it at all, unless they had to. And so he had tried to be respectful, but he had also tried to warn them that Afdal was coming – someone who wouldn’t respect them, and might even enslave them as their ancestors had been enslaved. That’s when all of them had stopped talking to him.

  But, from eavesdropping on various conversation, he knew there were one or two others who might yet talk to him, and right now, he was waiting for a woman by the name of Sora to come out of her house. From what he could gather, she was someone who sometimes stood up to those in authority when she felt they were being wrongheaded, so while he might end up with an earful of insults, he thought she might just be willing to listen. It took courage to stand up to those who were “in charge” when they were wrong, and courage was exactly what was sorely needed here. He’d already decided that if this didn’t work, then he would have to try in another village.

  There, the sun was coming up, so she should be coming out of her house any time now. He’d observed that most of the people here seemed to be early-risers, so even though it wasn’t necessarily his favorite time of day – an inclination no doubt left over from his days as an owl – he was here, waiting for her, even as the sun crested the mountains in the east. Changing back into his human form, Oculis dropped from the tree, landing smoothly on his feet, then leaned back against the trunk of the tree, waiting.

  Nor did he have long to wait, as only a short time later, she opened her door, a basket in her arms; laundry day then. Straightening, Oculis cleared his throat, but otherwise didn’t move. She had closed the door at the same time he had cleared his throat, so he had to assume she hadn’t heard him. Don’t let me startle her! he pleaded.

  “Good Morning!” he called out, gently, quietly, and even cheerfully. Again, he made certain not to move away from the tree, nor to make any gestures which she might interpret at threatening. Humans! They were so easily frightened! he moaned to himself as he saw her twitch, then turn around quickly, a look of surprise quickly turning to one of anger.

  “Good Morning,” he tried again. “It’s Sora, isn’t it?”

  “What do you want?” she returned, putting the basket on the ground – presumably to better be able to defend herself against him.

  “Well,” Oculis told her, “honestly, what I really want is for someone to just listen to me for a minute. Really,” he said, nodding his head, “that’s really all I want.”

  “About the magical threat from this Afland or Flayla, or whatever his name is, who has come all the way here from Nohoyo, if I’m not mistaken.”

  “Afdal is his name, yes.” Oculis felt himself relax with a sigh of relief – so they had been listening after all!

  “We don’t need your help, you know,” she told him, but she wasn’t yet reaching for her laundry basket, so maybe she might listen.

  “So I’ve been told,” he nodded his head, scratching his nose. He’d noticed that humans often touched their faces, or made gestures with their hands that made no sense to him, so he’d been practicing. Rubbing his nose was supposed to make him look more sincere, or maybe it was supposed to make him look more vulnerable. It was hard to remember. Either way, she hadn’t told him off yet.

  “Then why are you still here?” she asked him. “Shouldn’t you be off doing things where you’re needed? Isn’t anyone looking for you? Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

  “I am afraid for you,” Oculis told her, remembering to use his hands in a gesture that was supposed to show he was sincere.

  “You’re afraid for me?” Sora was incredulous. “You don’t even know me!”

  “For all of you,” Oculis corrected. “He is very dangerous, and ruthless. He can steal the very life from you without even touching you!” Finding himself shouting, he lowered his head, shaking it back and forth to indicate he was sorry.

  “You’re not very good at this, are you?” she asked, with a grin on her face that Oculis felt was totally inappropriate, given the nature of their conversation. He just looked at her, unable to understand what she was talking about.

  “Talking to humans, I mean,” she smiled again, only this time, she showed her teeth in a way that Oculis knew she was genuinely amused. Then her smile fell and she sighed deeply.

  “Come on, I’ll take you to Tyran. She probably won’t listen to you either – she certainly never listens to me. But she is the one you’ll have to convince if you want anyone to listen to you.” Sora picked up her basket, balancing it on her hip, and began to walk away from him. Quickly catching up to her, he asked if he could carry the basket for her; he knew that was a polite thing to do.

  “You may as well make yourself useful, as long as you’re already here,” she said, smirking while shaking her head again. She was amused all right. No doubt about it. But she didn’t stay that way for long.

  After a short walk, which took them through the heart of the village where people eyed him with distrust, but greeted Sora politely, if with a reserved (and probably curious) demeanor, they came to a stop outside of a neat house that was larger than Oculis was expecting. He could tell by the way Sora slowed her pace that she there was something wrong when they were still at least two dozen paces from the front door.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, unable to help himself from looking back and forth between Sora and the front door, and then behind them. Wait... what was that? There was some kind of energy at play here. Some kind of magic. That in itself wasn’t so unusual, but Sora looked as though she was disturbed.

  Frowning, she gestured for him to put the basket down and follow her – quietly. Those were hand signals he didn’t need any explanation for. Without knocking, she opened the door, then quickly ran towards the back of the house; Oculis was right behind her.

  “She’s not here. She should be here,” Sora told him, still looking through each room, as if she might still find Tyran. “I thought she might be in her garden, but she’s not here. She would have told me if she was leaving.”

  “Couldn’t she just be visiting someone else, or be at the river, or... ” he stopped dead in his tracks when he heard a crunching sound as Sora stepped on something. He watched as she stepped back, then stooped to pick up whatever she had walked on. It was a small figurine made of glass. Whatever it had been was unrecognizable.

  “Her dream vial,” Sora explained. “A gift from... it doesn’t matter. She’s in trouble.”

  “You know this because she’s not here and this glass trinket is broken?” Oculis found himself frowning.

  “It was a gift from her husband before he left,” Sora said quietly. “To remind her of their daughter who died.”

  “Afdal,” Oculis said, his voice flat, his anger rising. Before he even realized it, he was running back out the front door, transforming so he remained in his human form, but had wings. He could fly faster in his human form than in his owl form, and he had to find Tyran quickly.

  * * * * * * * *

  Poised on one knee, with his head bowed, Serat Caeli raised his face to gaze into the eyes of his sister, and felt a smile spread across heart. Her blind eyes had unerringly found his own and he couldn’t help but to rise to embrace her in a most heartfelt hug.

  “Siri!” he called out her name, laughing with joy to be able to hold her in his arms once more. He would never be able to remember later, but he was sure he had even swung her about, and perhaps
even swayed back and forth a time or two. It had been an eternity without her, and he had come the moment she’d summoned him. She’d always sworn she would, but had told him that she wouldn’t until she had found way for both of them to be able to see in the physical realm using their own eyes. Because he’d seen she was still blind with his first glance at her, he assumed she hadn’t yet found a way, but it didn’t matter to him in the least. He would happily take back the blindness, if only he could spend eternity with her. He had simply never been whole without her.

  “How I have missed you, sister,” he told her, taking her hand in his, to trace the lines of his smile.

  “Oh!” she said in a very small voice. “You remembered.”

  “You may not be able to see my smile, but I can see yours and I rejoice in the sight. Oh Siri!” he exclaimed again, hugging her even closer to him. After a moment’s time, he released her, but only reluctantly. If he could have postponed whatever she was going to say for a hundred years or more, he would have, but of the two of them, she was always most-insistent in getting done whatever must be done as quickly as possible. And so he let her go, his heart already sighing with regret for the small distance between them.

  “But wait!” he told her, startled, turning around in a circle to look all around them. “Wherever is Oculis? Why is he not here to greet me?” The sad smile that bloomed on her face at the mention of his childhood companion made his own face fall. But he was stunned a moment later when she answered him.