The Chronicles of Heaven's War: Burning Phoenix (76 page)

Grinning, Darla softly cooed, her warm
breath drifting across Ishtar’s cheek, “That is the part of the
tale I cannot tell you. We must discover it together.” She turned
Ishtar about, clasping the girl’s upper arms, studying her
handiwork. Satisfied, she encouraged they be away. “Come, let’s
discover many secrets together.”

Ishtar paused, focusing attention upon this
woman creature calling herself ‘Darla’. She studied the woman as
though noticing her for the first time. How radiantly entrancing
this Darla person was! Dressed in the same attire as she was, the
silky gown left little to the imagination. The woman’s form was
breathless in beauty, her face a goddess’ face, her eyes
fathomless, and her gaze passionate.

Ishtar found troubling feelings welling up
from deep within her soul. So much she wanted to touch Darla’s
flawless skin, kiss her ruby-red, painted lips, and to hold this
delightful creature close to her bosom. So wrong, it was so wrong
in the girl’s mind! Never had she been with a man, yet to fantasize
such encounters filled many of her haunting dreams. Troubling so,
at this very moment, she found those erotic desires exploding
within her heart for Darla, her body trembling with excited want to
have this woman. She fought desperately against the overwhelming
desire to pull Darla’s gown from off her shoulders and suckle the
woman’s rapturous breasts.

Darla understood well the sensual emotions
racing through the girl’s body. Had she not also surrendered her
passions up to her sisters countless times, finding satisfaction
fulfilled in their tender feminine touches? She, too, wanted to
romance this person, but not through the seduction of an innocent
spirit. Still lost Ishtar was, recalling the ways of licentious
perverts who sought sensuous gratification at any cost to heart and
soul. Old ways must depart in order for new understandings to
emerge...revelations that love’s passion is delivered first to the
heart and spirit, and then its acts are carried out in the
flesh.

Romancing the flesh without first fulfilling
the needs of heart and spirit paled into nothingness compared to
when flesh and heart sang out joyously together. First she and
Ishtar must fall in love – well, Ishtar must fall in love with her,
Darla having done so with the girl many ages ago. Then Ishtar would
see and understand. When that hour arrived, Darla would know, but
this was not the hour.

Breaking Ishtar’s spell, Darla frowned.
“Lovely one, we must hurry if the moody sun we are to escape this
day. For should he find us too soon, there will be no magic.”

The spell was broken for the moment, Ishtar
sighing with disappointed relief as her lascivious cravings
gradually subsided. Accepting Darla’s hands, she agreed to go. “So
I will learn of my mother’s whereabouts if I journey with you? You
said it would be so.”

Darla waxed coy, not wishing to promise what
she could not deliver. “As I said, you have the power to do so. I
am merely your guide to assist in that and other discoveries.”

Hand in hand, the two walked out into the
cool of late evening darkness. Asleep the moon had gone some hours
before, but the stars twinkled brightly in the clear, black
expanse. Ishtar searched the sky, quizzical expressions contorting
her face. “What of the constellations? I cannot tell times or
seasons, for there are none of them to be found. What witchery is
at work here?”

Darla squeezed Ishtar’s hand while softly
sweeping her fingers through the girl’s hair. “Witchery? No. It is
part of the magic that I shall help you discover this night. Times
and seasons are not forgotten here, nor are winter and summer,
planting rains and dry fall harvests. Much the same as your home
is, but the winters are much colder here, with snow aplenty,
icicles, frozen lakes, and… and… it is such a fun place to be in
winter!”

“Snow?” Ishtar asked, confused. “Like the
snow that traders bring down to the city from distant mountains?
Are we in those distant mountains that are filled with myth and
magic?”

Darla laughed. It felt good to laugh, to
laugh at sweet innocence. She had forgotten what innocence was, her
innocence destroyed with her rape at the hands of a trusted
companion turned traitor. That was so long ago, she being only of
eight summers at the time. Secret she was concerning the matter,
sharing the traumatic experience with no one, fearing, she guessed,
that somehow they would accuse her of being a naughty child. After
all, she was
always
being accused of being a naughty
child.

So much like herself this Ishtar was, a
misfit born into a strange world with no home to return to,
delivered here to do deeds no child should be expected to do. But
the girl did have pleasant memories from a carefree childhood past.
These memories would help soften the trauma of the horrid visions
when they finally awoke, as they must this night. How much Darla
wished she had carefree childhood memories to cloak her foul
nightmares. She smiled sadly, hoping the magic of the wine might
make some of Ishtar’s carefree recollections her own.

Forcing a smile, Darla answered, “You truly
are in distant mountains that may well be filled with magic, but
not so the ones you speak of. Further from home you are than you
may think at the moment, yet also much closer than you might
believe.”

Ishtar puzzled over Darla’s cryptic answer,
but said nothing. As they walked toward the street, the soft,
golden glow of its lights filtering through the tall, leafy trees
lining the curbs, the girl questioned some of her other experiences
since arriving in this place. “I did see that Treston officer, I
did. Has he journeyed here to this distant land also? Why? He
orders others about, and they call him ‘lord’. How free am I really
if the governor still rules these worlds?”

Looking down in thought, Darla pondered the
question. “Treston? Treston?” She made acquaintance with the man
just this morning - a fine fellow, she taking to him immediately.
Treston had confessed his trepidations regarding Ishtar, and his
deep, heartfelt, nearly worshipful feelings for her. Ishtar would
not understand, not at the moment. Why, she did not even remember
her final hours, much of it spent with the man.

“Treston?” She had to think quickly. “It is
a very long story, but the short of it is this: Treston arrived
here a while ago on a mission of sorts, at the request of our
Ruler. Fearing for your safety, his assistance was requested, the
feeling being that you might trust to the powers of your city and
follow his direction. Sorry to have fooled you. In this land, the
governor has no authority. Treston was doing us a favor.”

Ishtar sputtered contemptuously, “Dread
walks in the footsteps of that man!
Evil
he is, or at least
evil are the deeds he does. People speak in whispers his name,
fearing his wrath should the mood come upon him. The governor is
wicked, but Treston is
evil!
”

Darla stopped, looking up at a street lamp
they were passing under, asking, “Was it not your uncle’s friend,
Paul, who spoke of a man’s ability to change his being from that of
evil to that of good? Why, I understand that Paul, himself, had
such an experience of his own.”

Ishtar disagreed about Treston. “A leopard
does not change it spots, at least overnight! Treston’s cruelty is
well known. He’s a
murdering bastard
of a man!”

Darla nodded with understanding. “What you
say of a leopard is correct, yet Paul was also a murderer by his
own confession, and he changed his spots in one day, so to
speak.”

Ishtar agreed, countering, “With God,
anything is possible. Our Lord stepped in to change Paul, and for
an important reason. Treston’s had no
divine
encounters that
I know of. What would God want with him? Besides, he gives me the
creeps...”

Darla shrugged. Wishing not to argue, she
asked a rhetorical question. “What would God want with
any
of us? All that you say may well have been true regarding the
fellow once, but I do believe he is a changed man. And more than a
day he’s had to change.”

Ishtar harrumphed, asking, “How can that
be?”

“Because, my lovely one,” Darla peered
deeply into Ishtar’s eyes. “a long enough time you have slept for
this man to have changed.”

“
Impossible!”
Ishtar fussed.

Darla disagreed. “A strange land you have
been delivered to that is many days’ journey from your home, and
you have no waking memory of it. Treston, too, has had many days to
journey here. Time there has been aplenty for him to have become a
different sort of fellow.”

Ishtar did not want to discuss Treston
anymore. She changed the subject. “How long have I slept, and… and
what were those little monkey monsters that attacked me in the
wood?”

Darla grinned. “Your last question I can
answer. The first you must wait on for a little while longer. Those
monkey monsters are called, in our tongue, ‘duoreachees’. They are
monkey-like in many ways, quite curious, and can be very friendly
little creatures. Many of my kind make pets of them. They can
become nasty little critters if they feel threatened. Those fangs
can bite deep.” She rubbed her arm as though recalling an
unpleasant encounter with one once.

The woman looked in the direction of the
wood. “I was informed that they took to a woman who sang night
songs to them. ‘Chasileah’ is her name, sings such enchanting
songs. They trust her.” Casting her gaze back to Ishtar, she
explained, “A duoreachee can be a loyal little creature. When you
gain its trust, no more faithful a companion can you find. Should
you desire, we can journey into the wood at some future time in
search of the little animals.”

Ishtar thanked Darla for her offer, quickly
declining. For the moment, the very thought of that foreboding
forest giving her goose bumps. Picking up the pace, Darla hustled
them along, eventually leaving the restful glow of the street’s
lamps far behind. In time, they came to a grove of majestic maples.
Darla guided the girl into the blackness under the leafy expanse of
the trees, leading her toward the glow of a flickering lantern
sitting upon a table-shaped, weathered granite boulder with a flat,
polished surface.

Darla encouraged Ishtar to sit on one of the
stone benches at the table, she disappearing into the darkness to
momentarily return with an old leather bag. Carefully placing it on
the table, she sat down beside the girl. Wide-eyed, Ishtar stared,
wondering, as Darla’s fingers gradually loosened the straps keeping
secret the bag’s contents. Becoming impatient, she reached over to
assist.

Darla stopped her, taking her hand,
cautioning. “Please, this is very fragile. Only today have I
retrieved this treasure from deep within the caves under my home
city. Since our last parting, I have been preparing this - a
promise I long ago gave to you.”

Ishtar was aghast. “This aged purse must be
a hundred years old! I do not remember well our meeting, but I do
recall it to be not so very long ago. Tell me truthfully, what is
this all about?”

The brittle, dry leather straps finally
surrendered their hold, allowing Darla to open the cover flap on
the bag. She reached in, retrieving a crystal flask. Holding it up
so that the light would reflect the shimmering red liquid sealed
within, she replied, “Answer all your questions I will, but first
we must share a sip of this drink.”

She removed two cut crystal goblets, both
trimmed in gold and chrysolite and bejeweled with diamonds and
sapphires. Darla poured generous portions into each and then
offered one to Ishtar. “It is a strong, sweet drink. Tip it back
and let it drain down your throat.”

Ishtar hesitated. Darla encouraged her to
take it and drink, emptying hers, demonstrating how it was to be
done. Setting the empty goblet down, she remarked. “Rare this
elixir is, and used only in celebration with close companions. It
is a powerful potion for mind and spirit, freeing the heart to see
what lays beyond waking thoughts. Please, drink this up, for our
magic must begin soon.”

The honest sincerity seen in Darla’s face
just made Ishtar pick up the goblet. Its pungent bouquet excited
her senses, a musty fragrance like that of sweet decay hitting the
nostrils when opening an aged chest filled with delightful
treasures. With Darla’s continued prompting, she tipped her head
back and let the drink slowly trickle down her throat, emptying the
goblet. Warm it was to the body, its heat racing through her and up
into her head. There it began to swirl about, making Ishtar feel
pleasantly light-headed, but it cleared her mind and heart of any
anxious trepidation.

“So delicious! This is so delicious!” Ishtar
exclaimed. “Never have I tasted wine like this before...”

Darla removed the goblet from Ishtar’s hand,
placing it back in the old leather bag. “What you drank, my love,
is not wine, or wine as you have ever known it.” She opened the
bottle again and filled the one remaining goblet. This time,
though, she did not drink down the liquid, but instead swirled it
about in her mouth before returning it to the goblet.

“As I have done, do the same.” Darla told
Ishtar. “Do not swallow the potion we are making. Do as I did, and
return the mixture to the goblet.”

The drink was already having a mellowing
effect on the girl. Strange, though, for unlike wine’s effect, her
growing lightheadedness did not cloud her mind. Indeed, it felt as
if her mind had waked as never before. Her clarity of thought and
sense was acute. With weak, shaky hands, the girl took the goblet,
not caring what had been already done with it. She struggled not to
swallow the bewitching drink, although some accidentally did
trickle down her throat. In the end, she did return most of it to
the goblet.

Taking the goblet from trembling fingers,
Darla sat it down on the granite table. Looking back at Ishtar, she
explained, “Now we must wait…wait for the right moment for the
mixture to mature, for the drunken state to consume us. So while we
wait, if you wish, I will tell you many things.”