Sleeper Of The Wildwood Fugue (Book 7) (31 page)

“Luke stalling because heart cracked,” Fizzle states as he climbs down the front of his friend’s shirt. He sticks his tongue into the bottomless pouch and pulls out an apple, greedily devouring it for the tasty juice. “Can you read mind?”

“I could, but that would be a breach of trust,” Dariana replies, uncomfortably grinding her foot into the sand. “I already masked my presence to sneak up on you, which was wrong, but necessary. Everyone is worried about you because they don’t know what you’re feeling or thinking. It’s especially hard on Sari and Nyx for different reasons.”

“Let me guess. My powerful emotions have been calling out to you,” Luke says in an annoyed voice. He faces Dariana and tosses the waterskin to her. “I’ve heard that before and I keep wondering why it seems to be aimed at me so often.”

“Because you’re the most emotional out of the champions,” she answers before taking a drink. She throws it back and rubs her temples, focusing on blocking as many of Luke’s emotions as she can. “You were terrified when I first sensed you because you were trapped as a chimera. Then I kept sensing your desire for Sari. After that was the anguish of having to hurt Kira or Sari. Now I feel you’re miserable about leaving Kira behind when you firmly believe she needs you by her side. Add in guilt towards not trying to rescue Nyx and you’re an uncontrolled empath’s worst nightmare.”

“What do you expect me to do?”

Dariana walks up to the warrior and touches her fingers to his forehead. She attempts to calm his thoughts without reading them, but the turmoil in his mind is too thick for her to cut through. Vicious images of what he wants to do to Stephen flash across her vision before she breaks contact. She falls to her knees and puts her hands on Luke’s booted feet, saving her palms from the hot sand.

“Delvin told me to stop saying I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice strained and blood dripping from her nose. “Yet I feel like I should apologize for Stephen. If only because he never would and I want you to know that the blood I share with my brother doesn’t mean I condone his actions. He did a horrible thing to you and Kira. One that he should pay for and I pledge to help make him pay for his actions.”

“You don’t have to apologize or make an oath,” Luke assures her as he tenderly takes his friend’s wrists. He helps her stand and looks her in the eyes, flinching when they turn from ivory to blue. “As much as I hate Stephen, I wouldn’t take it out on you. That’s the same as him wiping out the Grasdons because they’re connected to me. It’s simply not right.”

“Fizzle hate Stephen,” the drite declares with a growl. “Not let him break Luke. Stay strong for all. Kira strong too.”

The forest tracker reaches out to gently tickle the dragon’s chin, a forced smile on his tanned face. “Kira put up a front to make us think she would be okay. She forgot that I don’t have to be in the room to hear and see things. Then again, I’ve improved my sound sight so much since my time at the academy that she might not have known. Anyway, I peeked in on her as soon as I closed the door of her room behind me and stepped to the side. She broke down and Eileen had to help her to the bed. I sat in the hallway for thirty minutes listening to her heart shatter.”

“I’m sorry,” Dariana says, giving Luke a tense hug. She cringes at the emotions that beat on the surface of her mind. “If there was a way I could let you talk to Kira, I would do it. Well there is a way, but it would be taxing on me. As long as you and she are asleep at the same time, I can enter a trance and meld your dreams.”

“I don’t want to push you since we don’t know what’s waiting in Helgard.”

“If I do it one night then I should recover by the time we arrive.”

A gust of soothing wind whips the sands into a small tempest that emanates a palpable power. It is a peaceful sensation to Fizzle and Luke while Dariana remains tense and anxious. She grabs the waterskin from the half-elf and pours some of its contents onto a fresh rag from her pocket. The long-lived champion tries her best to clean her face of dirt smudges and fixes her clothes as if preparing to meet a prestigious noble. Instead of mortal royalty, an elegant figure dressed in a gown of pristine white steps out of the tempest. The woman’s red hair is vibrant and beautiful as it cascades down her back, ending at her waist.

“I’m honored to meet you again, Zaria,” Luke says with a small bow.

“It is nice to see you too, young Callindor, but I came here to take Dariana Kernaghan to an important meeting,” the Goddess of Purity replies, touching the half-elf on the head. She draws her hand back and sheds a few tears at the pain she senses. “You poor thing. You cannot possibly survive with such anguish and sorrow in your soul. Please go back to your friends and find one to talk to. I promise to bring Dariana back before the night is done.”

“I thought the gods aren’t allowed to get involved in the lives of mortals.”

“And we are not allowed to bring them to Ambervale either,” Zaria mentions as she smiles warmly at the half-elf. “Yet a goddess can petition for an exemption in special cases. Such as when she wishes for time with her mortal daughter.”

Dariana blushes and meets Luke’s questioning gaze. “I give you permission to tell the others what I’m about to tell you. I’m the daughter of Baron Arthuru Kernaghan and Zaria the Goddess of Purity. That is why I have lived so long and why I’m bound by different rules than the other champions. I will tell all of you the story of my birth upon my return. I’m sorry to put this on your shoulders, Luke, but know that I will appreciate you preparing our friends.”

Zaria puts a hand on Dariana’s shoulder, the silver-haired woman reaching up to squeeze the goddess’s fingers. Another tempest appears around them and the sand grows into a blinding pillar. Luke makes his way back to the encampment, glancing over his shoulder at the dissipating beam. He stops when he sees Dariana’s clothes are left on the ground, so he jogs back to tuck them into his bottomless pouch.

“Dariana naked?” Fizzle asks, scratching his head with his tail.

“It’s not our place to question the actions of the gods.”

*****

Dariana and Zaria appear amid a forest of giant colorful mushrooms, the fleshy caps high above their heads. A sweet wind passes through the white stalks and flicks at the pair’s matching dresses of shimmering ivory. Dragonflies dart around the wilderness, snacking on dangling inchworms and avoiding the webbing of brown-furred spiders. With her arms held out, Dariana closes her eyes and revels in the familiar aura of Ambervale. Even though she was only a baby during her time with the gods and goddesses of Windemere, she vividly remembers the comforting power in the atmosphere. She wishes the quiet serenity will last forever, but she can already sense an approaching presence.

“Dari!” shouts Cessia as the Luck Goddess jumps out of a mushroom stalk. The dark-skinned woman with a dress of coins gives Dariana a hug that becomes a wild dance around the forest. “I have not seen you in ages. Not since you were waist-height and trying to pray to your mother in one of my temples. Do you remember that, Zaria? This little thing always thought she could reach you through the rest of us.”

“I remember her doing such things out of childish anger,” the Purity Goddess states with a wry smile. “At least we are beyond that stage.”

“Why did it take you so long to visit me this time?” Dariana asks when Cessia puts her down. She holds her head and closes her eyes, waiting for the dizziness to stop. “I missed you too, Aunt Cessia. I’m sorry I haven’t visited.”

“Still apologizing for everything, I see,” states Uli as the Warrior Goddess drops from the mushroom caps. Her chestnut hair braids itself as she pushes it behind her pointy ears. “It appears you are not working your body every day like I told you. If you plan on surviving as a champion then you need to strengthen your muscles and not depend entirely on your mental powers.”

The silver-haired woman nods her head and gives the goddess a hug. “I think I have a few friends who will spar with me, Aunt Uli. Now about the delay in your visit, mom.”

“That would be my fault,” a kind, bellowing voice admits. A large warrior with the head of a horse approaches Dariana and kneels at her feet. “I felt it would be wise to let you bond with the other champions. Your mother agreed when I pointed out that you were being accepted this time and it could be damaging to reveal the rest of your lineage too early.”

“We all remember what happened last time we did that. In fact, Ram here would not shut up about the mistake for days,” a shambling corpse explains, coughing up a cloud of dust. The God of Necromancy scratches his chest, his sharp nails cutting into his gray skin. “I told you these champions are not the type to hurt her. They might be immature, stupid, and reckless, but blood drinking for power is not something I sense in them. At least beyond one of that griffin boy’s gifts. What were you thinking with that trick, Uli?”

“You speak as if such gifts are easily given under the Law of Influence, Lorvis,” the armored goddess says, crossing her arms indignantly. “Unlike you, most of my followers are alive and don’t allow for loopholes.”

“That reminds me. Thank you for that zombie elf last month,” the Corpse God hisses with a grin that reveals perfect teeth. “I know you did not mean to send him to me, but he has been a very determined follower. He has already rescued my main temple from some overzealous paladins.”

Cessia claps her hands and throws a handful of coins toward the sky, the glittering pieces of metal flipping up to the mushroom caps. Each one falls and bursts into either a rainbow-hued dove or an ebony serpent, depending on if they land on heads or tails. The snakes scurry around the feet of the other gods who dance around to avoid the snapping fangs. Dariana is lifted off the ground by the doves, which merge with her white dress to make it more colorful. She smiles as she gracefully flies above the heads of the deities, her hand reaching up to run along the furrowed underside of the mushrooms.

“Seriously, Zaria, that dress looked terrible on her,” Cessia whispers while calling the snakes to her. They run up her arms and merge with her hair, giving the golden tresses black streaks. “With her alabaster skin and silver hair, you need to give her some color. This dress will look nice when she returns to the desert. Guaranteed to get attention.”

“What if I don’t want attention?” Dariana politely asks as she floats to the ground. She sees the hurt on the goddess’s face and hurries to give her a hug. “I’m sorry. I love the dress and I’ll cherish it always. So is anyone else coming?”

“To be honest, I did not expect us to have company,” Zaria states, putting an arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “I expected us to walk and talk through the mushroom patch, but I guess we can throw a small party. With Ram’s permission of course.”

“Dariana falls into a different category than other mortals,” the God of War declares, watching the others for nods of approval. “This visit has already been agreed upon, so we might as well make it enjoyable. I will see if any other gods are interested in attending.”

“I will go with you,” Lorvis offers with a friendly grin. “We recruit Eporwil first and the promise of drink can be made. I hear the old dwarf has been dying to try out some new brews for the summer.”

The two gods sink into the ground, leaving Cessia and Uli to conjure chairs and tables for the party. With the others distracted, Zaria pulls Dariana away for some privacy and leads her deeper into the mushroom forest. Large beetles stampede across their path, the herd of armored insects being chased by a trio of snarling mice. Hooting monkeys pass overhead, their long claws allowing them to leap from stalk to stalk. Their sounds are soon drowned out by the roar of the ocean and the pair step out of the forest. Standing on the edge of the cliff, Dariana takes a deep breath of the salty air that mixes with the sweetness of the mushrooms.

“Are you happy with the champions?” Zaria tenderly asks as she looks across the ocean at the nomad encampment. “It appears Luke Callindor is explaining your disappearance and they are taking it in stride. Though I sense they are waiting to hear about it from you. Now they are after him about his emotional distance. They are such interesting mortals.”

“They’re good people and they’ve accepted me. It’s strange,” Dariana admits while she takes a seat on the rocky cliff. “I interacted with two of them while I was asleep, which has never happened before. So there is certainly something different about this group. Do you think this is the final attempt?”

“Gabriel has agreed to make this the last group of champions,” the goddess replies, joining her daughter on the ground. She strokes the other woman’s hair, watching it turn a fiery red before returning to silver. “There must be something else we can talk about.”

“Not that I can think of,” Dariana replies with a half-hearted shrug. She lays back, a bed of soft moss growing beneath her. “We’ve been alive for a long time and I don’t do anything interesting. I sleep, I wake up, I interact with the champions, they get killed, and I go back to sleep. You’re not allowed to tell me about the events of your life. It isn’t like I’ll ever date anyone or have a child. At least for now, we’re both rather boring.”

“Perhaps you will have more to talk about now that you have friends.”

“I was thinking the same thing.”

“In that case, I will wait for a better opportunity to speak with you.”

A chilled wind whips at the women and the sound of boots crunching on gravel interrupts their conversation. Zaria sighs and rises to her feet, turning on her bare toes to face the dark-haired god behind her. Dariana scrambles to her knees to bow in front of Gabriel, who eyes her like one would a misbehaving puppy. Noticing the scowl on the Purity Goddess’s face, he smiles and gestures for the mortal to stand.