The Children of the White Lions: Volume 02 - Prophecy (110 page)

Scuffling footsteps approached the other side of the cell door.

“Be resolute.”

He lifted his head to face the entryway.

“Live well.”

With his gaze fixed on the dim rectangle, he summoned forth an old memory and locked the scene in his mind’s eye. It was the only way he could survive these sessions.

“Love fully.”

A young boy with sandy brown hair matching his own scrambled into his lap and, using the broken speech of a toddler, demanded to see the baby he held cradled in his arms. Smiling wide, he helped situate the boy on his right knee, careful to ensure the toddler did not inadvertently bump his new sister. The baby cooed softly, drawing the attention of father and son alike. Tiny curls of golden hair the color of Harvest straw poked from under the blanket wrapped tightly around her. Her rich, brown eyes stared up at him, wide and alert. He shifted in his chair, trying to get comfortable, and accidently let the sunlight streaming through the window shine in her face. Her eyes flashed hazel before she quickly shut them against the sudden brightness. A small whimper of discomfort slipped from her, prompting the boy to reach out and grasp his sister’s hand.

In the cell, the man smiled, happy and interminably sad at the same time.

A click and a clink announced the door’s lock had been undone. Setting his jaw, the man stared at the lines of light. His eyes turned cold.

The heavy iron door opened with a rattle and swung into the cell slowly, letting in a rush of light. Squinting against the sudden brightness, the man lifted a hand to shade his eyes as a waft of sweet, fresh air washed over him. The hallway beyond was lit with torches and magical lanterns alike.

Before the pain began anew, he took a brief moment to play a game with himself. Betting that it was night, he blinked repeatedly, trying to see past the figure looming in the doorway and down the long hallway. At the far end was the only window he had seen in years. It was dark outside. He smiled, right yet again.

His captor spoke, her voice echoing with a dark and worrisome power.

“You are in a good mood today.”

The man shifted his gaze to the silhouetted figure. Light from the hallway shone through the edges of her long, lustrous hair, creating a haloed line around her head. It reminded him of the sun shining behind a dark and stormy cloud.

“I had a good rest,” rasped the man.

“Did you now?”

Nodding, he turned his head to look about his filthy cell.

“Although I would sleep better if I had that mat I requested. When might I expect that to arrive?”

“And here I was, considering having a bed made for you. With a goose-feather mattress, even. But if you would prefer a mat, I can surely accommodate that.”

Her sarcastic tone triggered a flicker of alarm in his chest. His captor did not have a sense of humor.

He hesitated for only a moment before replying, “How kind of you, Cadrin. The bed sounds wondrous. I rescind my request for the mat.”

Cadrin tilted her head to the side while remaining ominously silent. He could feel her eyes studying him and was glad he could not see them. They made him uneasy.

The silence between them stretched out.

His gaze flicked down the hallway and, for a brief moment, he considered another attempt at escape. As his gaze locked onto a spot below the window, Cadrin spoke.

“Oh, please try. I would enjoy watching you fail again.”

She was right. Any attempt to flee would be futile. The part of him that had once made him special was still there—he could sense it—but his body was incapable of responding to his will. Years of malnutrition had withered him. With a defeated sigh, he dropped his gaze to the floor.

“As I thought,” muttered Cadrin. “A pity, though. You were much more fun to play with before you had given up.”

The man glared at her and spat, “I have
not
given up.” The strength in his voice surprised him.

“No?” inquired Cadrin as she took a few, slow steps into the cell. “Are you sure about that?”

He stared at the robed figure still shrouded by the shadows, drew in a quiet breath, and let it back out again.

“Can we just begin today’s session? I have a busy day ahead of me and you are wasting my time.”

“There will be no session today.”

Unable to keep the surprise from his voice, the man asked, “Why not?”

“There is nothing you can tell us that we do not already know for ourselves now.”

A sick, empty feeling gripped the man’s chest. Trying to keep his voice even, he asked, “What does that mean?”

Cadrin lowered herself into a crouch, arranging her robes as she knelt. The soft, bluish tint of one of the magical lantern lights illuminated the left side of her face, revealing pale, wrinkled skin. A blood-red pupil surrounded by a cat-like, bright orange iris, peered at him. She spoke, her voice soft and full of wicked anticipation.

“I have a recent development to share with you.”

He remained silent, waiting, the pit in his chest yawning wide.

An evil, supremely confident grin crept over her face.

“We found them.”

He shook his head, muttering, “You have tried this tact before, Cadrin. Didn’t work then, won’t work now.”

The smile on her face widened.

“Ah, but
this
time I speak the truth.”

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

Cadrin remained motionless, her unnatural eye boring into him, studying, watching. Her smile widened a fraction more as she whispered, “Believe whatever you like, you poor, broken, foolish man. I no longer care.”

With a great swish of robes, she stood, spun around, and strode to the door. Reaching out with a pale hand, she gripped the ring handle, stopped, and half-turned to look over her shoulder.

“Apparently, your son looked just like you. At least how you did when you first came to us. He was a strapping lad from all accounts. Good with the blade, too.”

Bile rose from his stomach and caught in the back of his throat. He struggled to show no reaction, not wanting to grant her satisfaction or confirmation. She could be guessing.

“And your little girl?” continued Cadrin. “She grew into a true beauty, her hair golden and bright. Just like her mother’s.”

He bit the inside of his cheek so hard that blood filled his mouth. Any bit of hope that Cadrin was lying went plummeting down a deep, black chasm inside his soul.

With a soft, delighted chuckle, Cadrin said, “You would have been proud of them. They fought valiantly.”

Unable to help himself, he asked, “What does that mean?”

“It means what it means. They fought valiantly. Then they lost, dying as Demetus’ walls came tumbling down on them both. How sad for you.”

“Impossible,” muttered the man. “You are lying! The prophecy—”

“Is wrong, apparently,” interjected Cadrin. “It would seem Indrida was wrong. Again.”

Cadrin, the mortal incarnation of the God of Pain, turned back to the hall, stepped through the entryway, and began pulling the door shut.

“Have a good night, Aryn. Sleep well.”

Aryn watched the door shut with a resounding thud, plunging the cell into blackness. Utterly numb inside, he dropped his head into his hands and squeezed his eyes shut tight.

“No…please, no…”

The High Host—the nine good Gods and Goddesses

The Gods and Goddess that are Neither

The Cabal—the nine evil Gods (None has a name)

The calendar of Terrene is a symmetrical one. Some scholars suggest the Gods altered the world and the moons to facilitate such a perfectly aligned set of dates. A year on Terrene is exactly 360 days, divided into 12 turns of 28 days per turn. A week is seven days long; four weeks make up a single turn.

Between each turn is a two-day period that belongs to neither the turn before nor the turn that follows. They are commonly referred to as Days of Leisure, and throughout the year are used for feasts and other celebrations.

The turns of the year and the Days of Leisure between are as follows:

Turn of Khanos – named for Khanos, the God of Life (Winter in the southern

hemisphere, Summer in the northern hemisphere)

Days of Leisure for Khanos and Indrida

Turn of Greya – named for Greya, the Goddess of Winter and Fate

Days of Leisure for Greya and Sarphia

Turn of Duryn – named for Duryn, the God of Industry and Crafters

Days of Leisure for Duryn and Ketus

Turn of Roden – named for Roden, the God of Change and Freedom

Days of Leisure for Roden and Rheoc

Turn of Saewyn – named for Saewyn, the God of Spring, Sea, and the Wilderness

Days of Leisure for Saewyn and Nelnora

Turn of Sormina – named for Sormina, the Goddess of Beauty and Love

Days of Leisure for Sormina and Tirnu

Turn of Lamoth – named for Lamoth, the Goddess of the Forest and

Wild Nature (Winter in the northern hemisphere, Summer in the southern hemisphere)

Days of Leisure for Lamoth and Horum

Turn of Sutri – named for Sutri, the Goddess of Summer and Time

Days of Leisure for Sutri and Mu

Turn of Thonda – named for Thonda, the God of Beasts and the Hunt

Days of Leisure for Thonda and Gaena

Turn of Rin’tira – named for Rin’tira, the God of Autumn and Trickery