returned to her epic saga.
“Lord Deo, Allegria, Hallow, and Thorn, too
To Starfall city they all but flew.
Queen Dasa was prisoner of a heinous brute,
Wielder of chaos, the captain Racoot.”
“Racin,” came the correction from the back of the small room. “The captain’s name was Racin.”
Lala paid no mind to the comment, too caught up in the beauty of her vision. Besides, she was getting to the good part. She stood on a chair, and with one arm lifted high, continued in as a ringing tone as she could muster given the heat and dust.
“Deo’s sword sang with blood of the vile Harborym,
While Allegria and Hallow hacked them limb from limb.
But the captain was canny, and through his portal he took the queen,
Leaving Lord Israel behind, to face the Council’s spleen.”
“Really, Lala,” Peebles protested. “Spleen is definitely not a metaphor.”
Lady Sandor gave another one of her odd coughs.
“The Council of Four Armies was very, very mad.
They did not like Deo. They thought he was bad.
So Lord Israel used the queen’s own precious moonstones,
To send Deo far away, to a rocky outcast home.
And when Racin returned, intent on grinding us all to sand,
Allegria and Hallow and Deo cast him from the land.
Through the very portal he came in, and which Allegria destroyed,
but not before Deo, fearing for the Queen, a hasty plan employed.”
Lala paused, giving them all a look she felt was most potent. Every eye was on her, the room as hushed as a tomb. She dropped her voice until it was almost a whisper.
“Now. Deo is gone, and Lord Israel is most grave.
Allegria and Hallow seek the three moonstones to save.
Their friend, and the queen, who are captive on Eris,
Find them they must, else surely they will perish.”
Faint noises of everyday life at the temple wafted in through the window; the distant chatter of priests as they went about their chores, the gentle hum of bees on the honeysuckle that climbed along the corner of the schoolroom, and the soft lowing of cattle as they were herded in for afternoon milking.
But in the room itself, all was silent. Lala smiled to herself. Content that she had held her audience captive in the palm of her hand, and while returning to her seat, adopted a modest expression, as befitted one who was an apprentice priest.
“Er…yes. Very…imaginative.” Peebles seemed to have some sort of trouble speaking, and Lala focused her attention on Lady Sandor when the latter rose and made her way to the front of the room. She paused as she passed by Lala, her lips twitching a little when she looked down at Lala’s hopeful—yet modest expression. Then she was gone, the door closing quietly behind her.
Lala glared at the door, annoyance mingling with anger for a moment until she realized what had happened. Obviously Lady Sandor didn’t want to show favoritism by promoting Lala on the spot. It might make for hard feelings in the older girls. No doubt that’s why Sandor had to appear indifferent.
Thus it was that while Peebles called on one of the other apprentices to recite, Lala planned just how she’d make a fair copy of the poem and present it to Lady Sandor later, so it could be framed and hung in the head priestess’s bedchamber. Perhaps she might slip away from Peebles’s attention long enough to run into town and give a copy over to the local weekly newspaper. Yes. That was a satisfactory thought. A very satisfactory thought, indeed.
Chapter 1
“You do not belong here, Allegria Hopebringer. Begone before the Eidolon make you one of their own!”
A face materialized in the almost complete darkness of the crypt, the eyes appearing black and hostile as they considered me. Little tendrils of ghostly light surrounding the face evaporated just as if bits of him were turning to dust before my eyes.
“Blessings of Kiriah, my lord,” I said politely, digging through my admittedly scant knowledge of history. This particular spirit had to be one of the Eidolon thanes, long-forgotten kings who had ruled the seven lands of Alba well before the coming of the modern races. It was rumored that the tunnels honeycombing the area under Kelos were home to beings who had been dead longer than the memory of man, and evidently the rumors were correct. “I mean you no harm, although I wonder how you know me.”
The face seemed to fade into the blackness, only to suddenly appear again, parts of his visage drifting off into nothing as he spoke in a slow, ponderous tone. “You bear the grace of the sun goddess as well as the stink of mortals. Who else would you be?” He faded again, then materialized immediately in front of me, his ethereal face thrust into mine, his voice carrying the heavy rumble of thunder. “Your kind is not welcome to walk our paths! Begone, I say again!”
I held my swords easily, one in each hand, the runes on the blades dulled by the fact that we were deep underground, out of the reach of Bellias Starsong, goddess of the night sky. “I mean you no harm, lord thane, but pass I must. I have been charged by Hallow, the Master of Kelos to search the crypt.” That was not wholly the truth, since said master, who also happened to be the man I loved, believed there was nothing in the crypt but spirits best left to them selves. But I had a bet with the captain of the guard in charge of protecting the ancient center of magic, and I wasn’t going to let him best me.
“Search for what?” For a few moments, curiosity lit the black eyes of the thane.
“Three moonstones hidden by the previous Master. Do you know of them?”
The face faded, remnants of the ghostly halo around it remaining for a few seconds before dissolving. “Mortal concerns mean little to the Eidolon. Leave now.” His voice echoed off the stone arches that lined the crypt.
The fact that he knew who I was made me wonder if we weren’t too quick to dismiss the spirits here as being of no help to us. If he knew me, he might well know the whereabouts of Queen Dasa’s moonstones, scattered after they were last used. “That’s not really an answer. I don’t want to be annoying, but a yes or no would be helpful,” I said, mindful of the way the hairs on my arms rose, warning me of unseen movement around me. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist on an answer. A proper answer, that is, not one that is nothing but confusing.”
A hissing noise followed, as if the thane was sucking in all the air of the already airless crypt. Although I’d placed a lit torch in one of the brackets on the wall, the glow of its golden light didn’t penetrate very far into the cloying darkness. I could make out large rectangular shapes that I knew were sarcophagi of the arcanists who had once resided in Kelos, but beyond the tombs…another shiver
