Chapter
41
The spirit of the flying smoke was
clearly not happy with Brythia’s defiance.
Though none of her senses provided her with input in the normal manner,
she became aware that the spirit was wrapping around her, engulfing her essence. It was attempting to consume her. She felt her consciousness receding as the
life force was drained from her. Psychic
suffocation.
“No,” she shouted mentally. “Tolian needs me. I can’t die now. I can’t.”
A splash of purple light shot out of
the Moonsword and flashed throughout Brythia’s perceptions. As if in response, six rays of light, each
coming from a different direction and each a different color, converged upon
her and the spirit. The rays were
charged with tremendous power and each seemed to possess a unique energy. Red.
Orange. Yellow. Green.
Blue. And indigo. Combined with the purple light the Moonsword
was generating, the colors formed a complete spectrum. Raw energy flooded the realm of the flying
smoke, and the rainbow of power poured like a waterfall upon the druidess and
the spirit.
The spirit of the flying smoke
screamed in pain as the lights pierced his being.
The rainbow beam spoke, each light
with its own voice, but in unison. Divine
voices, thought Brythia. Only the
violet-purple ray was silent.
“She is not for you. You cannot have her. She is on an errand of the gods. None may interfere. Let her pass, for if she fails, all is lost.”
The voices passed right through her,
charging her with a sense of calmness.
Brythia felt the spirit release her
immediately. Divine love surrounded
her. She knew what the rays were. The energy of the gods of the spheres. The Moonsword had sent a distress signal and
the gods themselves had answered.
Now the voices addressed her. “Go, child of the Earth. Go, and seek your lady. Only you can help her; we cannot directly
interfere in the workings of your realm or in Faerie. The future of the created universe rests now
with you, and then with her. Travel
forth, with the blessing of the gods and of the highest.”
Then the lights and the Spirit of
the Flying Smoke were gone and Brythia once again became aware of
movement. She felt hard stone beneath
her feet. A cool evening breeze caressed
her cheek (though it was much warmer than the winter’s bite she had just left). Strange, indescribable scents accosted
her. The rustle of vegetation in the
light wind caught her ears. Though her
senses were encountering unknown stimuli, they were all working, save one. Her eyes were open, but the images she saw
made no sense. There was darkness and
shadow, but also strange colors that had no correspondence in the mortal
world. A jumble of images, shadowy but
bright. Out of focus. She rubbed her eyes, but to no avail. She could make no clear sense of the world
around her. She must be in Faerie then,
though she had not expected to be without her vision there. Wonderful, she thought.
She gripped the Moonsword in both
hands before her. She closed her eyes to
shut out the distracting and useless visual input, and stepped forward moving
the lunar blade before her.
“Take me to Tolian,” she
whispered. “Guide me truly and
carefully, my friend, for I can’t see here.”
In response, the Moonsword pulled
her gently forward. She followed with
slow cautious steps. She had been trained
to travel without her sight, as the druidic discipline had required a series of
exercises that tested neophytes’ abilities without each of their senses. Of course, the sensory input she was
experiencing now from her other faculties was nearly overwhelming.
She had only traveled a short
distance when she heard a voice with savage inflection cry out in the darkness,
“You cannot hide from me. I shall find
you.”
She had only heard the voice once
before, but she knew who it belonged to.
Dowbreth. And she knew at once he
was looking for Tolian too.
Copyright 2004, 2015 Diana Hignutt
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