Chapter 28

  “Shouldn’t we just leave her?” Cari whispered. The goddess lay slumbering beneath them. Blanketed in reeds, rocking gently in a current so far below that the surface remained undisturbed. “We have the trident, what else do we need?”

  Fia reached into her robes, feeling for the compass. It did not burn as she had expected. It was warm, like the heat that came from one of her golden baubles, comforting and pleasant to hold. She had been wrong. The trident was not why she had been led here. She needed information.

  “Cari?”

  “Yes?” The young explorer peered back at her from behind the thick spectacles, constantly battling to keep them up. Her neck was slightly bent, tilted up to hold them in place.

  “Why is the trident so important? Why were you sent here?” She was struggling to keep Cari’s dream in her head. Its details were already fading from her mind, and the more she tried to hold on to them, the faster they slipped through her fingers.

  “The trident grants communion with the goddess…” Her voice was dull. A recital. Words spoken over and over but perhaps not truly understood.

  “And are there many towns like Driftmoor? Is yours one?”

  Cari stared out at the still waters; green eyes entranced by the reflection of the ghost moon. It was a curious thing. No matter where your eyes fell on the lake, the moon was there to meet your gaze.

  “Yes.”

  “But only one trident?”

  “Though there are many that bear its likeness, there are none like it…” There was that voice again.

  “You were sent here to steal it?”

  “No,” her lips quivered, and her eyes filled with tears. In the light of the moon, they turned pale, veiled in an opaque fog.

  Fia had seen eyes like that before, and an image flashed in her mind. A weathered man, he clutched a driftwood trident as he stood on an oaken pier in the middle of a great storm. Beside him was a young girl. It was Cari. He cried out in prayer, and then cast her into the writhing waters.

  O’ R’lectha

  “They sent you here to die.” And suddenly, all of it came rushing back to her.

  “No,” Cari whimpered. “They wouldn’t…Father wouldn’t let them. He promised…” Her hands fell and the trident dropped, clattering on the rocky shore. And she sank to the ground, sobbing.

  “Cari…” She didn’t know what to do; it had been so long, so she just sat down beside her, wrapping her arms around the girl’s trembling shoulders. “There, there,” she whispered. “It’ll be alright. You’ll see.” Cari continued to weep, and Fia sat with her, running her fingers through her cropped chestnut tresses. They huddled together on the shores of the silver lake until finally her tears went dry.

  When her shaking grew still, Fia spoke, “Let's look for a way out.” She pulled Cari to her feet, rubbing her arms and straightening her tunic. “There!” She exclaimed, holding out the trident, “You look like a proper explorer now!”

  Cari sniffed, rubbing her nose as she took the spear. “It's my first discovery,” she admitted.

  “Well, I never would have guessed,” Fia smiled, “When I first saw you, I took you to be a seasoned veteran. That is, after I got over the shock of you banging down the staircase! You gave me quite the shock!”

  The young girl's face cracked, breaking into an impish grin as she giggled. “You were so scared!”

  “Now hold on! I seem to remember you screaming!”

  “You being so scared is what scared me!”

  They searched the cave. It was far bigger than it looked and, surprisingly, teeming with life. Grey salamanders scurried along the rocks, feeding on strange insects that sparkled like dewdrops in the long grass. Above flew some kind of bat. Shadows that flitted overhead, the screeching pings of their voice echoed against the cavern walls. All of this, basking in the light of the false moon.

  They came across far too many sets of human bones. Most were tiny, the frames of children. Weathered with age, but entirely intact. The creatures of the grotto kept their distance from the remains, which Fia found far more unsettling than the alternative. The life here was bound to the order of the sleeping goddess. Custodians of a holy land, long ago abandoned.

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  But there was no way out. At least not one, the two of them could find. And the ladder they had used to descend had broken off, sinking into the bottom of the lake. The shallows themselves were home to a peculiar species of crab. They danced along the shoreline. In unison yet without rhythm. Scuttling forward a few paces and then suddenly dropping back to press themselves against the ground. And from the deep recess of their carapace, the faint glow of azure flame flickered.

  “So, we’ll have to go into the lake then?”

  “It does look that way, doesn’t it?”

  “No way back but through.”

  “Yes, often that’s the case,” Fia replied, “Deeper and deeper.” She closed her eyes, picturing the rapids of the Aurin, sinking her face into the cool waters, and the memory of exploring the dazzling world beneath the surface. She felt her staff forming in her hand and the bubble expanding in her throat.

  “What—What’s happening?” Cari gurgled, panic-stricken.

  She couldn’t help but laugh. A bubbling warble that dripped from her lips. “Don’t worry, Cari,” she reassured her, “It's so we can breathe down there.”

  Cari gave a gargled response, and then splashed into the lake, dunking her head beneath the surface.

  Underwater, their voices were returned to a more decipherable drone. Sounding slightly deeper and carrying further, but otherwise still their own.

  “This is amazing!” Cari squealed, eyes shining with excitement. “There are so many cities, lost along the coast. Now I’ll be able to see them all!”

  “Let’s focus on getting out of here first.”

  They swam down to the lake’s bed. And there the goddess lay, beautiful and terrifying.

  “What do we do?”

  “I’m not sure,” Fia admitted, “You could try touching her with the trident… or maybe just stab her.”

  “Stab her!?”

  “Just something to think about…that’s almost always how these sorts of things go...” She stopped, watching the woman’s hair flowing in the current. “Better hold my hand while you do it, unless of course, you’d rather I do it?”

  Cari frowned. “No… The Trident is my responsibility, but I’m going to try poking her first.”

  “If you say so.” She held out her hand.

  Hand in hand, they swam closer. Slowly, carefully. Cari flailed, swinging the trident out as far away from her as she could, reaching for the goddess.

  And just as they grew near, the barbed prongs scraping against the dreaming deity, her hand twitched. And suddenly she snapped forward, ripping the trident from Cari as she stood.

  She did not speak, her drowned eyes staring out balefully at them, then she lifted the trident and began to sing. It started low. Cold and melancholic. A haunting miserere, pulled from the throat of the deep, twisting in salt and sorrow. And as her voice rose, the waters began to turn. Churning and thrashing, breaking apart upon the piercing melody. It spun, faster and faster, ripping them into the maelstrom.

  “Hold on to me!” Fia cried as the waters spun, dragging them along its coils. At its center stood the goddess, trident held high, stirring the wind and the water, wailing as the storm howled. Beneath her, a gaping maw stretched open to devour all. And the lake folded in on itself, collapsing into the void. And Fia and Cari fell with it.

  Darkness. It was so cold. And wet. She was lying face down in a salty puddle. She coughed, rolling onto her back and spitting up seawater. Had she swallowed the entire lake?

  She saw Cari, hunched over, choking as water poured from her lips. They had both made it; that was good to see.

  “Where are we?” She spluttered.

  “Another dream, I suppose. You really should have stabbed her.”

  The poor girl's face fell. “Sorry,” Cari mumbled, “She just looked so… so peaceful sleeping there.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Fia patted her head, tousling the short hair playfully. “We’re alright, aren’t we? It's just another place to explore.

  Cari gasped, eyes widening, “We’re here,” she uttered.

  “What? Have you been here before?” Fia looked around, confused. They had landed on a castle walkway. It was narrow and long, with vaulted ceilings adorned with ripped banners that dripped down on the salt-washed stone. Through the slitted windows, she could see an ancient city crumbling into pale blue waters.

  “It's Kenosia,” Cari whispered, staring out in awe. “The drowned city.”

  “I’ve never heard of such a place.”

  “The land that forged the Trident. A city blessed by the goddess, cursed by its loss. Swallowed by the waves, its people, doomed to wander in the deep.

  “Ah,” Fia sighed. “That explains a lot. Shall we have a look around?” She summoned a bauble to guide them. And then, just to be sure, reached into her pocket to check the compass. It was white hot. At the very least, they were on the right track.

  As they walked, Cari ran about excitedly, picking up little bits and bobs, squealing and giggling at every discovery. She seemed to have forgotten how they had arrived and the dangers that might lurk around every corner. But Fia kept watch. Sending dozens of little orbs out, lighting every step of the way. There would be no surprises.

  The walkway curled up a great knoll. Several guardhouses lined its way, and Cari insisted on stopping to check each one, climbing to their peak and descending until the floors became too flooded to walk. Fia waited, watching, worrying; they were in a dream, she was sure of it. The goddess had brought them here. And she would not be content to let them wander for long. Something wasn’t right. She felt a looming terror just beyond her sight. And its dread built, growing inside of her as the shadows closed in. But they encountered nothing, found no one, no danger. The halls were empty.

  Finally, they came around a bend and the walkway opened up into a courtyard. A great keep rose from its end. Blackened by ancient salt, and crusted in jagged coral that glittered in the strange starlight. Broken towers leaned against it, dark crags crashed into shattered battlements, softened by generations of salt and barnacle. Its gates hung, ajar. Pulled askew by the snaking arms of ocean reeds.

  And before the gates, torches. Hundreds of them. Beneath their light knelt white robes. To reach the goddess, they would need to pass the faithful.

  “Cari,” Fia whispered, raising her staff.

  But Cari did not answer.

  Cycle: Timor 8-2