Sleeper Of The Wildwood Fugue (Book 7) (32 page)

“To what do I owe this honor?” Dariana asks, ignoring the angry thoughts of her mother.

“I came to apologize that I would not be attending your little homecoming party,” the God of Destiny answers in a melodic voice. He tightens his gloves, their color changing from black to a dark yellow. “I have business to handle and no time for such indulgences. Yet I do have something to discuss with you.”

“My mind has already been wiped of all information on Helgard and whatever else the champions might face,” the young woman declares like an obedient soldier. She relaxes when Zaria puts a hand on her shoulder, soothing magic flowing through into her core. “I’m sorry, mom, but I’m trying to be polite and loyal.”

“I appreciate that, dear, but you’re jumping to conclusions,” the goddess mentions with a steely gaze at Gabriel. “Make this quick, so we can get to the party.”

“Such irrational priorities.”

“I’d say have a child and witness the change, but you would probably eat your heirs.”

“I forgot how defensive you get around the little Kernaghan.”

Gabriel hums a tune that turns Zaria to stone, startling Dariana who is trapped by her mom’s petrified hand. The statue’s mouth crackles as the Purity Goddess tries to speak, but she can only grunt and growl. With a snap of his fingers, the stone shatters and falls away from the redheaded deity in a cascade of powder. He grins at the sight of Zaria hacking up the stone dust from her lungs, her eyes filled with fury. Gabriel opens his mouth to speak to Dariana when mushrooms sprout from his mouth, their flesh tasting of sour milk. He bites through their putrid stalks and swallows what is in his mouth, his face turning an ugly shade of green.

“Never cast magic on me in front of my daughter,” Zaria angrily states, putting herself between Gabriel and Dariana.

“Duly noted and I respectfully admire your revenge. I truly think I am going to throw up for the first time in centuries,” the black-haired god admits, his voice missing his usual arrogance and bluster. “I have a request of your daughter and after some of her past actions, she has no choice but to agree. Though I am certain she would anyway.”

“We’re both listening,” the goddess says.

Dariana pushes ahead of her mom and holds her hand. “I can speak for myself, mother. What is your request, Lord Gabriel?”

“This is our best chance to destroy Baron Kernaghan and I have come to realize that failure might be final this time,” the God of Destiny explains in a slow, steady voice. The pained expression on his face tells the others how much it hurts to make such an admission. “I ask that you look over your new friends. For the record, I am glad they are friends. Each champion is one of my finest works and their kind will never be seen again. From the last of the Callindors to the perfectly grown channeler to the living aura font, it would be impossible to create them again before your father frees himself.”

“What should I do?”

Gabriel grabs Dariana by the chin and stares into her eyes, searching them for signs of disloyalty. “Make sure all of them make it to that final battle. Not only alive, but empowered enough to give your father a good fight. I cannot get involved or decide who will win, but you are a loophole in our law. I can ask you to protect them for me until they are needed. Betrayal and failure will be met with severe punishment at the hands of my top agent. Do I have your word that you will be their defender?”

“Of course, Lord Gabriel. May I ask what becomes of me when my father is defeated?”

“You know what will happen thanks to your early actions. Remember not to tell them about this conversation, but do not remove it from your memory. Enjoy the party.”

“That’s it?” Zaria snaps at the other god. “You put that on her shoulders and walk away?”

“Yes because we both know she is stronger than she gives herself credit for,” Gabriel answers with a genuine smile at the silver-haired champion. “I have always been impressed by her abilities and disappointed in her lackluster use of them. She spends more time mind wiping herself than doing anything useful. Try to be an adult this time, little Kernaghan. Otherwise, your final judgment will come much sooner.”

Gabriel vanishes in a puff of black smoke that drifts above the mushrooms. Dariana watches him disappear, mysterious tears streaming down her face. A vacant part of her mind tries to speak with her, its contents long since purged and leaving a gap in her memories. The young woman stops crying when Zaria leads her back into the mushroom forest and the sounds of celebrating gods can be heard in the distance.

17

“She’s waking up!” Sari shouts in a gurgling voice.

Dariana groans and rubs her eyes as the landscape undulates around her. She blinks the stars away, realizing that her hands are covered in glinting sparkles. Reaching down to wipe them off on her pants, she finds only her bare legs and internally panics that she is naked. She breathes a sigh of relief when she touches the hem of a very short, colorful dress that she vaguely remembers once being a lot longer. A waterskin is offered to her from below and she takes it from the hazy form with red hair. After a long drink of cool water, her senses clear enough for her to recognize Timoran and is confused on why she is taller than him. She yelps when the snorting camel she is riding turns around to stare at her.

“What’s going on?” Dariana asks as her head jerks around to make sense of her surroundings. The rest of her friends are walking next to her, but the sight of Sari wrapped in a bubble of water makes her think she is dreaming. “How long was I gone for? Where did this camel come from?”

“You sure have a lot of energy for someone who hasn’t eaten in a week,” Sari replies with a smile. She offers a piece of jerky to the confused woman who greedily snatches it out of her hand. “Makes me wish we hadn’t wasted the feast ring two days ago. You’d be able to devour it on your own.”

“We’re just glad you’re awake,” Delvin says as he extends a hand to help Dariana down from her mount. He pats the camel on the rump and it transforms back into Fizzle, the drite spitting a glob of rainbow saliva. “We were breaking down camp and you wandered back in with what you’re wearing now. The dress seems to be magically bound to you, so we couldn’t change you into more suitable clothes. Sari used her powers to bathe you, so you’re not dirty. Though those strange sparkles on you were impossible to get off.”

“I must have been playing tag with a few of the fae goddesses,” she explains, limping along until Nyx helps her. The numbness in her legs is not as bad as she expected, so she is able to move on her own after a few minutes of shaky steps. “The gods held a party since I had not seen them in a while. Not everyone came, but many did and they were rather . . . insistent that I try Eporwil’s new recipes. It is not an activity I typically indulge in, but who can say no to a goddess that is sitting on your chest. Though the food is probably what caused me to fall into a slumber for so long since I believe Nexus the Dream King made the cake. I’m glad my mother gave me enough energy to make it back to all of you. Where are we?”

The awkward silence helps Dariana sober up entirely, the faces of her friends intently staring at her. She notices that only Sharne remains from the Helgardian tribe and there are foreboding coils of black clouds in the distance. As they come to the top of a dune, she sees that the clouds are really smoke pouring from a towering volcano. Cracked, ebony earth with veins of red run from the base of the crimson mountain to the edges of the dunes, the remains of what was once a lake of deadly lava. The occasional pop and hiss can be heard as heat pockets find a way to the surface, their location found only by a winding trail of haze. A single path of sand runs to the cliff-covered volcano and is fringed by the remains of ancient archways. There is no sign of the missing pieces of what must have been an elegant canopy of sandstone that once covered the walkway. All that is left are the curved sides that have spent centuries getting battered by the desert winds. Focusing on the sides of the volcano, Dariana can see strange marks in the stone, as if something attempted to maul the mountain.

“My tribe is staying a mile away in case things go poorly,” Sharne says, petting Fizzle’s head when he lands on her shoulder. “As the Palqua, it is my duty to see that the scepter is taken care of. So I will be going with you. Fizzle has promised to protect me from harm. Though, I don’t know what could possibly be left in there after all this time.”

“You’d be surprised,” Luke responds while he hands Dariana her clothes.

“Give her some privacy,” Nyx states, creating a curtain of sand around the silver-haired woman. “Are you going to be okay in Helgard?”

Dariana throws the remains of her dress over the barrier where Luke catches it. “I’ll be fine, but I believe I owe you my story. I promise to be brief.”

“Only if you wish to share,” Timoran politely replies.

She parts the barrier and adjusts her sapphire top until it is tight around her body, but not choking her. The golden lion design on her back shimmers in the morning sun and gives the illusion of leaning its head back to roar. Her black pants are dotted with the glittering sparkles from her body, which creates an odd starry sky pattern. Wanting to clean her face and hands, she walks to Sari and steps into the gypsy’s water bubble. Dariana comes out the other side, drenched and cleansed of the goddess dust that now swirls around her friend. They stick to Sari’s dress and hair, much to her sheer delight.

“As you now know, I am the daughter of Baron Arthuru Kernaghan and Zaria the Purity Goddess,” Dariana declares in a solemn tone while she stares out over the hardened lava. “Long ago, my father found a way to become the God of Destiny, but he was swiftly dethroned by Gabriel. Arthuru was unable to create any destinies because Zaria tempted him with the promise of her flesh. She was a virgin goddess and she sacrificed her status to stop him from killing the other gods and disturbing the balance of fate. The result of their tryst is me.”

“So you’re a goddess?” Luke asks, scratching his head. “I thought the gods couldn’t get involved in mortal affairs.”

“I’m a mortal with an extremely long lifespan. I don’t age, but one day my body will crumble to dust and I will be left a benevolent spirit,” she explains while leading the way down the dunes. Dariana projects her voice into the minds of the others, allowing her to focus her eyes on the looming volcano. “People like me are not born true gods, but we can become one by the age of five if we wish and are permitted. There’s a ritual where we’re given a domain and granted a deity’s aura. The other gods decide if there is a need for such an ascension and if the person in question will abide by the Law of Influence. If we grow too old then we are no longer viable candidates. Although, true mortals are able to be turned into gods if the situation is correct. The entire thing is complicated and hasn’t happened in centuries.”

“I am confused on how you were raised since being mortal would forbid Zaria from interacting with you,” Timoran says, carefully walking down the sandy incline. He steps on a part of the dune with no traction and falls to the hardened ground. “Be careful, my friends. There are sheets of glass beneath the sand. They must have been made by the heat of the volcano or the lava lake. Thankfully, all of this has hardened and cooled.”

“It is said that the volcano will erupt again when Helgard is claimed,” Sharne mentions while she gingerly makes her way to Timoran. “This will become a lake of lava once more unless the new master does something different.”

“I’ll definitely reconsider having this place surrounded by a death trap. At the very least, I’ll put up some railings or barriers,” Nyx claims, kicking at an isolated piece of basalt. She gets a shield around her when a crimson vein spits lava at her, the hot liquid splattering against the spell. “Looks like the lake is becoming active now that the scepter is near. So how were you raised, Dariana? I remember the vision of you being in the Zarian Monastery.”

“I lived on Ambervale for my first year to allow my mother to nurse me,” she answers while cautiously moving along the edge of the dunes. She holds up her hand, stopping everyone from walking into a sudden spurt of lava. “Then I was sent to the monastery to be raised by her high priestess. I lived there for a very long time. I remember when Mylrix the magic plane merged with the physical realm. That should tell you how old I am. Anyway, you saw how my time at the monastery ended. It was soon after the Great Cataclysm that I learned of my father and was chosen as a champion.”

Dariana takes a step onto the sandy path that is lined with the jagged remains of at least ten sandstone arches. Fire and lightning crackle along the remains of the rune-covered canopy, the damaged pieces unable to contain the ancient aura. The spells are thick and wild as they lash at the ground and puncture the basalt, releasing the churning lava that has been locked away since the volcano went to sleep. As if reacting to the noise, Helgard rumbles and spews a rain of ash that color the surrounding dunes a drab gray.

Sari uses her water bubble to cool the flowing lava while Luke rushes ahead to yank Dariana away from an incoming spell. Before he can get her to the others, a bolt of lightning strikes the sand behind him and turns it into a patch of slick glass. He slips and falls with Dariana landing on top of him, the impact knocking the wind from his lungs. A fiery spell runs along the ground, narrowly missing the pair when Dariana rolls them to the side. Some of the lava flows over the edge of the walkway, which Luke pushes them away from with a controlled gust of air. They are struggling to get up when they feel the heat of an incoming fireball.

Timoran leaps over his friends and bats the spell out of the way before a glistening barrier surrounds everyone. Nyx holds the scepter above her head as she leads the way through the path of fire and electricity, her spell flowing from the ruby. Deadly magic ricochets off her magic shield and explodes on the basalt, creating geysers of lava. By the time they reach the far end of the path, the air around the adventurers is emitting steam and the straining caster is covered in sweat from exertion. When everyone is safe and near the simple entrance, she stomps her foot to create a shell of stone and glass along the path. The violent spells bounce off the enchanted material, creating more geysers in the basalt field.

“That should hold if we need to escape,” Nyx says as she falls to her knees. She opens her mouth to say something when a burst of water hits her in the face. “Really, Sari? We’re in front of an active volcano with who knows what inside and you drench me?”

“You looked overheated and I wanted to help. This isn’t the time for pranks, Nyxie,” the gypsy replies as she helps the caster stand. “I have a question, Dariana. If you traveled with previous champions then shouldn’t you know about some of these dangers?”

The woman sighs and looks at the slab of red stone sitting between two unlit torches. “It’s not as simple as that. I’m bound by certain rules because of my situation. One of the rules is that I wipe my mind of any information that would be helpful to the next set of champions. I never remember the dangers of the temple even if I have an inkling of being here. Helgard is especially strong in the back of my mind because it is the one I’ve been brought to the most. I’m sorry that I’m not much help.”

“It isn’t like we expected this to be easy,” Delvin says while he approaches the door. He knocks on the rough stone and jumps back expecting something to happen. “That’s odd. There’s nothing really magical about this door like the previous temples. Come to think of it, Helgard has a different feeling than the others.”

“The previous temples were secluded from the rest of the world, but this place has the smell of one that has been left exposed,” Timoran replies, taking the Compass Key off its chain and turning it in his hands. “I expected a complicated entrance like before, but there is nothing here. A lone traveler could make it down the pathway if their reflexes were keen or they had a defensive spell like Nyx used. Some may even be able to hurry across the hardened lava. This is if there would be any danger in the first place since the area is responding to the scepter’s return.”

“It’s possible that the Beast of Palqua destroyed the original entrance along with my people’s original city,” Sharne says as she takes a seat on the base of a fallen column. She picks up a chunk of marble that was once part of a statue’s face. “The city of Palqua once sat upon the cliffs of the volcano. You can still see parts of the pathways and stairs along with deep gouges from the beast. This tells me that the monster rampaged out here before it was sealed within the scepter.”

“I do know that entering a temple through an alternative entrance makes things more difficult. I think a few champions were destroyed attempting that with Helgard,” Dariana claims while watching the continuing spell storm revive the lava lake. “Maybe the archway path was the original entrance with a pattern of spells or it was a race to get through before they release the lava. This doesn’t help us since it’s destroyed.”

“Someone sealed Helgard, but Gabriel wouldn’t allow for it to happen in a way that permanently closes it,” Nyx mentions as she taps the door with the scepter. A faint line of energy runs through the middle of the rough stone, but only the caster is quick enough to notice. “I think I saw something. Can I have the Compass Key, Timoran?”

The barbarian reluctantly hands her the relic and cringes when the caster presses it to the door. Lines of white energy race along the stone, gathering near the bottom to form a glowing lock. Nyx can feel the entrance rumble and shift, but a loud groaning of rusty gears is all that occurs. Struggling to react to the Compass Key, chips of stone and ancient dust fall away from the rough edges of the doorway. With a creaking clunk, the entrance shudders to a stop and the shining lock fades away.

“That was rather underwhelming,” Luke says, throwing a rock at where the lock had appeared. He ducks when the projectile is rocketed back at his head. “Then again, Nyx might be onto something. Guess we should look for clues like the other places.”

“No need for that since this isn’t the original entrance test,” the caster declares as she screws the Compass Key onto the top of the scepter. She smiles at Timoran who is backing onto the path, the echoing sound of the spells hitting the protective canopy making him even more nervous. “I’m guessing whoever sealed Helgard and the Beast of Palqua created this lock. It’s powerful and you need both items to reveal it. Strange since the Compass Key was supposed to have been lost ages ago.”