Showing posts with label novel excerpt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label novel excerpt. Show all posts

Monday, November 12, 2012

Teaser for Nanowrimo 2012: "The Shadow of the Queen"

Here is a snippet from my Nano 2012 novel, "Shadow of the Queen". In this scene, Ziya must find her way out of the Otherworld before it is too late.


Night after night, the Priestesses came for me. I was careful to take Healer Panluman's medicine before their arrival. The strange seeds enabled me to observe and to remember what the Priestesses did to my helpless body. The smoke from the nightwort increased every night to the point of flooding the chamber with a gray cloud. The Priestesses had obviously built a strong immunity to the stuff over a long period of time.

I managed to find gaps in the curtains of smoke and slip through into clean air. These gaps increasingly grew smaller and smaller, but I found them anyway. They started as single portals, then double-linked, then triple-linked and more. If I went through the portals in the wrong order, it deposited me back to the beginning, and I had to try again. Eventually, I discovered they also had colored auras, and by matching those auras, I traveled faster to the end.

Those gates stretched into corridors, the corridors into rooms, and the rooms into scenic views. Mountain ranges, blue lakes, forests full of green woody plants. All of them boasted their own unique mazes. I spent an unknown amount of time within them, trying to find a way out.

Finally, I found myself in a barren landscape, gray and lifeless. A poisonous fog lingered at the edge of my inner Vision. Quickly, I strode off away from the fog in search of a door. As I traveled, the ground became uneven and riddled with holes and cracks. The wind strengthened and whipped my ghostly form to and fro. Dead trees, slate-gray rocks, crumbling ruins...it just went on and on in every direction.

Lightning flashed through the sky. I looked upward to find a glowing square directly above me. I nodded to myself, gathered my strength, and launched myself up through the sky. It was just at my fingertips when a lightning bolt slammed into me. I landed hard on the rocky ground, my bones snapping upon impact. A white-hot blaze of pain took my breath away, and I simply lay there, gasping for breath.

Blessed Suraya, what was that? I dragged myself up into a sitting position, only to feel a sharp stab in my right hip. I gasped at the agony that shot up my entire right side. My hip was broken, my knee dislocated, and I felt a rib or two move in ways that sent my muscles into spasms.

I was going to die in this Goddess-forsaken wasteland. Once my soul ceased to exist, my physical body would quickly follow. I realized that this was how Dehali and Muralkani met their deaths. They hadn't even passed the initial tests; neither had reached this final stage.

No, I will not allow the Priestesses to claim my soul for their own purposes. I will survive! My injuries are only within my mind...I can overcome anything they set for me!

I dragged myself onto my left knee and supported myself with my good left arm. The portal hovered directly above me, warm and inviting. My shattered right shoulder screamed in agony as I forced my hand to clasp the emerald pendant around my neck.

Suraya, give me strength to escape this prison. Give me the Will to return to the living! I clutched the pendant, even as sickness and shock passed through me in long waves. The stone under my fingers grew warm, then hot. I forced my eyes open and gasped as the dusty ground under me began to glow green, with a scarlet edge. Power flowed into me, but it was sluggish, and the ragged spurts only increased the pain.

There was Earth energy, but hidden deep within the ruined landscape. There was no way I could tap into it before my limited strength gave out. Yet there was more than enough death, enough suffering, to fuel the Fire. I felt it overtake the serene emerald, appropriate the Earth energy for itself, transmute it into the Flame of rage and desire.

If I gave into the Flame, it would change my life forever. Which path should I choose? Earth, and die with a pure soul, or Fire, and survive and allow the Dark side of the Goddess to claim me?
My thoughts began to dissolve. Time was running out. I closed my eyes and let the Wheel of Fate make the decision for me.

The ground rumbled under me, as if gathering itself for an explosion. Then it erupted in a maelstrom of hellfire. The power thrummed through my veins and repaired my injuries in a single agonizing moment. I screamed and extended a newly-regenerated right hand at the portal above my head.

And with one massive push, I launched myself through the black sky. More lightning bolts attempted to strike me down again, but their stings were nothing compared to the song of Fire in my veins. I entered the portal and bore down on that pinpoint of light that led me back to the Living.

My last thought was, No one can stop me now. No one. I am the Goddess and the Goddess is me.

All original writing and art copyright A. Dameron 2000-2012

Friday, November 4, 2011

Legacy of the Pearl Dragon (Session 2, 3631 words, Nanowrimo 2011)

This is part 2 of my Nanowrimo 2011 excerpts. Each writing session is unedited. I'll post the rest of this novel at the end of November, whether or not I manage to make it to 50,000 words or more.

 

The Temple of the Silver Bells stood high on Tong Mountain, its shining citadels visible for miles around. Nine delicate spires extended through the air, each one painted a different color, according to the Four Directions and Five Elements. East, South, West and North. Earth, Fire, Air, Water, Spirit. The soft chime of bells echoed over the valleys in a strangely wonderful nine-part harmony.

“How do they do that?” Li Ying-Ying marveled. She closed her eyes and savored the otherwordly sound. It seemed to reach out and touch her, making her tremble in its wake. The walls of the carriage vibrated in time.

“No one knows. It is one of the secrets of the Priestesses, I suppose,” answered her mother. Li Wai kept her gaze riveted to the view beyond the window curtains. She shivered at the damp chill and tightened her brocade robe around her slender form. Li Wai blew out a relieved sigh at the enraptured expression on her daughter's face: mouth open, head tilted to one side to hear the bells, eyes closed.

Yes, her eyes are closed. Li Wai felt the familiar stab of guilt at the thought. It was easier to look at Li Ying-Ying when those eyes were closed. Those weird, colorless eyes, so unlike Li Wai's own velvety brown. It gave Ying-Ying an exotic look, accented by high cheekbones, glossy black hair and perfect porcelain skin.

She is Goddess-touched. It will be better if she serves at the Temple, instead of being groomed as an administrator's wife. Again, Li Wai tried not to feel the relief as she remembered the soothsayer's words. She had glanced at Won Jia, the prospective bridegroom at nine years old, and nearly smiled at his shaky sigh of thanksgiving.

His father, Won Chu, had hid his disappointment well, but a match with the clear-eyed beauty of Tong Mountain would have enhanced his reputation. After all, Won Chu was the Emperor's Minister of Antiquities, and such an unusual addition to his family would bring curious academics to his door.

Li Wai thanked the Goddess for Her intervention. Ying-Ying was no precious artifact to be paraded around the Empire. The girl wouldn't last more than a month under envious eyes. The Goddess's Chosen dwelled within Her Temple, safe behind walls, protected from the greedy eyes of Man.

Ying-Ying opened her eyes. Li Wai flinched internally at the steady gaze; could her daughter read her mind and the tumultuous emotions within? The innocence in that gaze made Li Wai's throat tighten in pure dread.

“Mother...will they approve of me? Will they like me? Will they accept me as one of their own?”

“I don't know, my child. It is up to the Goddess herself, whether or not She finds you worthy to dwell within Her temple.” Li Wai wanted to stroke Ying-Ying's hair, like when she was a girl, but Li Wai kept her hands clenched within her lap. “I certainly have high hopes, but of course, that is a mother talking.”

Ying-Ying sighed as the deep vibrato of the bells resonated in the small carriage. “I hope so as well. I do love the sound of the bells. It's as if they have their own melody.”

Despite herself, Li Wai smiled a little. “Don't tell me that they speak directly to you.”

Those strange eyes regarded her with honest bewilderment. “Not in words, Mother, but they comfort me nonetheless.”

Li Wai shivered again, but still didn't extend a hand for comfort. “Then perhaps the Bells will choose you, then.”

The road turned from hard-packed dirt to stone and the wheels rattled in its wake. A pair of silver gates parted to allow the carriage through. The driver stopped at the guard house and exchanged words with the captain in low tones.

“Identification,” the captain said brusquely.

Li Wai reached into the beaded purse at her side and pulled out a bundle of elegant ivory slats, linked together with strong woven cord. She parted the curtain and passed the bundle into the captain's impatient hands. The soldier's eyes skimmed over the characters, blood red against the hard white, paying particular attention to the words outlined in gold leaf. After several tense minutes, the captain nodded to himself and pressed the slats back into Li Wai's hands.

“My apologies for the delay, Lady.” He turned and snapped an order to the phalanx of soldiers directly in front of the carriage's path. The men parted like leaves in the wake of the wind. The driver nicked softly at his horses and the carriage continued forward into the city.

Li Wai drew the curtain back over the window, but Ying-Ying peeked around the edge of the fabric on her side. “It is curious, Mother...the way you described the Temple grounds, I thought it would be less crowded than this.”

Li Wai chuckled and shook her head. “Tell me what you see with your clear eyes, Daughter.”

Ying-Ying inclined her head as she gazed at the tightly packed crowds. Li Wai didn't have to look out her own window to imagine the chaos outside. Goats bleated as they were herded to market. Sellers argued with buyers, musicians strummed their instruments, and military officers patrolled the streets. The smells overwhelmed Li Wai's sensitive nose: roasting meat, animal dung, fresh-cut flowers from the garden stands. She wrinkled her forehead, but Ying-Ying stared and drank in the hustle and bustle.

“I see all sorts of people: the young and the old, the strong and the weak. Ordinary people living extraordinary lives within the city walls. Has it always been so?”

“For eternities before, and most likely, for eternities to come.” Li Wai said. “Some lives are quite ordinary, my daughter. With any luck, yours may be.”

Ying-Ying regarded her mother again. “What if I do not want just 'an ordinary life'?”

“That is the Will of the Goddess, not yours,” Li Wai reminded her. “Being extraordinary brings misfortune and unwanted attention. There is peace in anonymity.”

“As one of the Chosen in the Temple? Is this the best place for me?”

Li Wai wasn't sure how to answer such complicated questions. She only said, “We shall see.”

 

Finally, the carriage began ascending at a steep angle, as it left the city behind in the mountain valley and headed up to the Temple proper. Ying-Ying gave in to tempation and pushed the curtain aside. She marveled at the narrow, paved road as it spiraled up the ridges of the Tong, and it wound tighter and tighter into itself. The sound of the busy city died away, and soon the clamor of the Bells surrounded them as completely as the mists. Ying-Ying watched as the wind snapped through the evergreens and skittered through babbling brooks. The view was indeed breathtaking.

She was very aware of her mother's intense scrutiny. There is peace in anonymity, Li Wai had told her. Of course, when one's eyes differed from the other girls in the family, being anonymous wasn't an option. Ying-Ying endured the rude stares and whispered titters for as long as she could remember. She told herself it didn't matter at all; what mattered was what she Saw on the inside.

The Sight was both a blessing and a curse. It warned her about potential dangers from unscrupulous people. It showed her what lurked deep under a false facade. It also set her apart from ones who considered her talent as unnatural. She avoided mistakes and dodged danger, so much that the gossips wondered if the Gods had cast her from a perfectly golden mold.

She was not infallable or invulnerable. It wasn't her fault that she paid attention to details that others ignored or missed,

Ying-Ying shook her head to herself. The mantra of the Shinwa maidens repeated itself in her mind. Be brave, but not boastful. Be gentle, not ghastly. Be precise, but not proud. Be dutiful, not daring. This is the code of the Shinwa people.

“Be ordinary, not extraordinary,” she murmured under her breath. There were men like Minister Won Chu, who saw her as nothing more than an exotic toy to be possessed, not cherished. If it weren't for her blue-gray eyes, the color of mountain mist, she would be ordinary indeed.

Again, she wished the Goddess would have made her a plain, homespun village girl. Her life would have been more difficult, but at least she would have been ordinary, as far as the world was concerned.

A painful pressure made her ears ache; she swallowed hard to relieve it. The nine separate chimes of the Temple Bells blended into a harmonious symphony, nine individual melodies contributing to the whole. Ying-Ying yearned to lose herself within that overwhelming sound.

And out of the mist rose the final gates leading to the Temple of the Bells. A cadre of guardians kept diligent watch at the entrance. As the carriage made its final approach, a sole shadow walked forward to greet it. Ying-Ying stared at the slight, muscular form that was meeting them. The gray armor was adorned with an elaborately carved breastplate of some sort of red metal. Two swords were slung behind the guardian's back, and the front baldric held a row of wicked-looking knives.

The guardian halted at her window. The cool, composed gaze weighed and measured Ying-Ying in one fell swoop. Before Ying-Ying had time to panic, the rosy red lips quirked upward in a dry smile.

“Be welcome, my Lady,” the guardian said in a soprano tone that carried across the path. “I am Captain Jiang Xia. I will accompany you the rest of the way to the Temple.”

Ying-Ying struggled to keep her jaw from dropping. Captain Jiang was a woman and a Temple guardian. She looked across to her mother, but Li Wai had a pleasantly neutral expression on her face. It hid her distaste at the fact that a Shinwa woman would dare defy the usual conventions. Ying-Ying, of course, wasn't fooled by Li Wai's polite demeanor.

Neither was Captain Jiang. The guardian's black eyes crinkled in wry humor, as if she had encountered such a reaction before. Ying-Ying found herself matching the wry smile; so much for being ordinary. If Captain Jiang served the Goddess, then She had a very funny sense of irony.

“Of course, Captain,” Li Wai said. Her mouth pursed as if she'd eaten an overly sour peach. “We are grateful of your protection.”

“My cadre protects the Temple grounds, Lady. No harm will come to you or your child, I swear it.” Captain Jiang nodded, then walked to the front of the carriage, where she swung herself onto the platform beside the driver. The carriage continued forward through the gates and into the courtyard.

Ying-Ying couldn't speak; not only was the captain's behavior unladylike, but had she winked at Ying-Ying before she moved out of sight? This encounter was nothing like she'd ever had before in her short life.

And then she saw the Temple of the Bells in all its glory, behind the mists that kept it hidden.

And it was beautiful. Blue and white stone, with steep green roofs inlaid with jade tile. The porches and railings were carved out of some sort of reddish wood, with emerald dragons twining over the surfaces. Round windows decorated with delicate latticework to match the large round door portals. Unlike the chaos of the city at the foot of the mountain, each detail stood out in pristine calm.

The bells finally tolled their customary greeting and fell silent. The quiet was louder than the noise, and Ying-Ying suddenly missed the chorus of the bells. Every soft footfall was magnified a thousandfold, every burble of water and sigh of the wind. The horses neighed softly as they halted in front of a steep stone staircase. It led directly to an elegantly wrought iron portal.

“We are here,” Li Wai whispered, as if raising her voice was tantamount to sacrilege on these sacred grounds.

The carriage door opened and Captain Jiang extended a hand to her. Li Wai took it with the same caution as if she was handling a poisonous viper. The captain assisted her to the cold stones of the pavilion, then offered the same courtesy to Ying-Ying. Ying-Ying accepted that courtesy; Captain Jiang's grip was sure but strong, respectful yet protective. When she was safely out of the carriage, Captain Jiang squeezed her hand briefly before letting go.

“Make sure the horses are groomed and wel-fed in the stables. I'll escort our honorable guests myself.” Jiang bowed her head to the ladies and added, “Please, follow me.”

They slowly climbed the steps to the iron portal. Ying-Ying held the hem of her robe up to keep it out of her way. Captain Jiang had no trouble keeping up; she could probably have leaped up the stairs without a care, heavy armor and all. Ying-Ying envied her, in a way.

She paused briefly at the threshhold of the portal, then took a deep breath and stepped over it. As soon as her feet touched the marble within, a current of warm air rose up and enfolded her. The abrupt change startled her...how was that possible? The heavy curtain of mist evaporated and gave way to bright sunlight.

Sunlight...and the scent of flowers in bloom. Ying-Ying tiptoed forward like a girl in a dream, eyes wide to take in the view in front of her. It was as if she had stepped into another world, one different from the cold reality outside.

“This is the Orchid Pavilion,” said Captain Jiang, as she removed her helmet. “The Temple Priestess know we have arrived; she will come momentarily.”

“How can this be?” Ying-Ying whispered, as she ran a finger down a trumpet-shaped lily. “Is this a dream?”

“It's whatever you wish it to be,” Jiang answered. “Your surprise is understandable. I reacted the same way, forty years ago, as a little girl newly arrived.”

“Forty years ago?” Li Wai raised her eyebrows at the white streaks through the captain's hair. Jiang's carefully braided crown ended in a topknot high on her head, with the remainder of her hair spilling out over her shoulders. Ying-Ying took a closer look at the laugh lines etched at the corners of Jiang's eyes and the lustrous glow within them.

“I've been in the service of the Goddess for most of my forty-six years,” Jiang confirmed in a matter of fact tone. “She decided to lay Her hand on me as a Temple guardian. I've had no regrets in Her choice.”

Ying-Ying marveled at the older woman's steadiness. “Perhaps I may become a guardian as well?”

“It is for the Goddess to decide, not for we mortals,” Jiang reminded her. “If that is your fate, then so be it. I think She may have other plans for you, little one.”

Li Wei shifted uncomfortably at the words. “As long as Ying-Ying lives without fear or shame, I will be content with whatever She decides.”

“We shall find out what Her intentions are, my Lady.”

An unexpected voice echoed in the pavilion. “Ah, Captain Jiang, these are our visitors? Be welcome, Lady Li Wai and Lady Li Ying. The Goddess smiles upon you both on this auspicious day.”

Ying-Ying glanced over her shoulder to see a woman in the ivory robes of a Priestess. The shimmery material floated like clouds around her tiny frame. As the Priestess glided forward, Ying-Ying saw that she was barely taller than her mother Li Wei. The Priestess raised her hands and dropped the hood to reveal her face.

She appeared to be perhaps fifteen years old, her skin like flawless cream, but her eyes were completely black, with tiny, diamond-like pinpricks of light, like heavenly stars.

Ying-Ying stifled a scream and took a step backwards. She tripped over the hem of her robe and landed hard on her back. Mortified, she tried to scramble back up, but her muscles froze on her. All she could do was stare, terrified, at those eyes that were windows to the cosmos. That one look paralyzed her vocal cords; not a squeak escaped her throat.

And the sound of bells rose up around her, the nine-part harmony of the Four Directions and the Five Elements, nine separate strands woven into one. Stars blossomed and died, galaxies whirled around in a cosmic dance, and planets spun in their orbits. It was deafening, it was overwhelming.

It was beautiful, with colors vibrating in time, fighting and surrendering at once.

Then Ying-Ying was plunged into a blue ocean, underneath an even bluer sky. The scream of sea birds filled her hearing, punctuated by the steady rhythm of the bells. An oddly detached part of her mind marveled, The ocean, the sky, are shades of the orbs I see in the mirror each day.

With a stomach-churning lurch, she found herself sitting up in the middle of the Orchid Pavilion. Li Wei knelt on one side of her, Captain Jiang on the other. A man with the green robes of a Healer hovered above her, his brow wrinkled in concern. The Priestess gazed down on her from her left...

Ying-Ying stared up into a pair of honey-brown eyes, set in a face that was old and young at the same time. There were no stars, no galaxies, no oceans hidden deep within. Did I imagine it?Was I overcome with fatigue and overexcitement? Lady Goddess, have I shamed myself in front of Your Priestess?

“No, you haven't,” the Priestess answered softly. “No, my child, you are not at fault. It is completely understandable.”

“What happened to me? I don't understand--”

“Every person who is touched by the Goddess receives a message. Nearly all do not understand it at the time, but when the future comes, all will be clear. You are so painfully young, Li Ying. You may not divine its meaning for years to come.” The Priestess gave her a reassuring smile. “We have not been properly introduced, child. I am Wang Sui Hei, and I am remiss in my duties as a hostess. Can you stand?”

“I think so.” The Healer and Li Wei supported her as she shakily got to her feet. Ying-Ying caught a look of utter dread on her mother's face and wondered at it.

“Healer Song, Captain Jiang, we will take her to the Lightning Hut. Li Wei, please come with me. We must talk.” Wang Sui Hei's voice remained soft, but there was a hint of steel through it that brooked no opposition.

Li Weil bowed low in obeisance and replied, “As you wish, my Lady.”

Captain Jiang also bowed her head, then turned to Ying-Ying with a reassuring smile. “Come. Lightning Hut serves the best tea and crackers. When was the last time you ate?”

“I had some noodles and a bit of wine for lunch--”

“--which was hours ago, I'm sure. Little wonder you felt faint.” Healer Song's words were blunt and kind at the same time. “A growing child needs sustenance. Captain Jiang is correct about the food and drink...we could all use some.”

Ying-Ying managed a nod, but said nothing more.

 

'Lightning Hut' reminded Ying-Ying of an elegant tea shop, with dark lacquered wood tables and padded cushions arranged in pleasing patterns. The sharp smell of black and green teas filled the air, a complement to the clean, astringent smoke from the braziers. The proprietor ushered them to a private room near the private gardens. Ying-Ying sat cross-legged on a huge cushion, as the proprietor mixed the tea and served it herself.

“Please, eat as much as you want,” she urged Ying-Ying. “A growing child is like a vine. It needs much sunlight and sustenance to grow strong and healthy.”

Ying-Ying tried not to roll her eyes at how fussy the proprietor seemed to be. The only thing that made it tolerable was the fact that the woman genuinely meant well. It wasn't like Li Wei's family, who mistook politeness for deceit. The sense of goodwill was welcome, but ingrained habits were difficult to break.

Healer Song pressed his hands around his tea cup and studied her from across the table. Ying-Ying tried to convince herself that this round-faced, gray-bearded man had the most honorable intentions. He seemed to pick up her unease and made no move to touch her.

“You know, hearing your accent brought me back to my own childhood,” he commented. “You sound like you're from the south...Siang Plateau or so?”

She snapped her eyes to him. “The Lis own land along the eastern edge of the Siang Plateau.”

“I know. My maternal ancestors include the Hukans, directly opposite you in the west.” Healer Song chuckled and smiled, revealing cheery dimples in his ample cheeks. “Don't worry; I'm a Healer and not a warrior. The best I can do is break bottles over stubborn heads.”

Ying-Ying's mouth twitched despite herself. The Hukans loved conflict; they were regarded as skilled fighters. Of course, not every one of them was in love with war. At first glance, she wouldn't have guessed he came from Hukan stock. In fact, he appeared very much the opposite.

“Then I should consider myself quite fortunate in your presence, sir.”

“Make no mistake: being a pacifist doesn't mean I'm passive. I'm a warrior for life, not death.” Healer Song sipped at his tea.

 

Friday, May 20, 2011

Novel Excerpt: Cantadora Chapter One

Original Work by Annie Dameron copyright 2011 All rights reserved.

Chapter One

1. Isabel
Song of Darkness

The roads to Santo Tomas held surprises to the weary traveler. For one, the hard-packed dirt felt stable underfoot, and for another, there were no vagabonds or highwaymen lurking in the shadows. During the Festival of the Sun Lady, pilgrims walked two and three abreast on the road or alongside their wagons. Traveling cantadores sang hymns from atop their donkeys and horses. The more popular ones attracted admirers who threw coins into their hats.
Isabel Morales-Diego lingered behind one of these singers. His clear tenor voice rang over the clopping of horses’ hooves and the creaking of wagon wheels. She closed her eyes and savored the purity of his tone.
Her mare whinnied in agreement and turned her head to look back at Isabel. The deep emerald eyes were remarkably human-looking, and even the mare’s mouth moved into a slight smile.
The cantadores possessed a Talent to soothe restless souls; Isabel felt this in action, while the others did not. She drew her power from the Earth Elemental, asking its permission for her use. It agreed, and flowed into her with a rush of cinnamon-golden warmth. She opened her eyes and Looked at the auras of her fellow travelers.
Most of those auras quivered with anticipation of the Festival, others were leaden with exhaustion, some were strumming in time to the cantador’s song. The spectrum of colors ranged from a sunny yellow to a murky gray, but none of the auras radiated an evil darkness. She sighed in relief, but she knew it was only temporary.
Isabel Morales-Diego, Senior Healer of the Southern Circle, Mystic and Elemental Mistress of Earth, needed help from her kinsmen in Santo Tomas, and the sooner the better.
And speaking of family... It wasn’t often she was able to mix business with pleasure. Her mother’s clan came from Santo Tomas; she looked forward to seeing her cousin, Magdalena. Isabel had chosen her costume with great care: a multicolored skirt of red and green, crimson bodice and shirt. Her hair was twisted into a complicated knot-and-braid, anchored it with a golden pin and adorned with a dark emerald, with matching pendant around her neck another emerald ring around her left ring finger.
She opened her eyes as she sensed a change in scenery. The path sloped gently downwards, then leveled off as they reached the valley floor. The baked desert land became the wide expanse of green fields that bordered Santo Tomas. Suddenly, the path expanded into the beginning of a wide boulevard, the Via Soledad, and the toll collector materialized out of a nearby watch-house. The weary travelers grumbled under their breaths as they pulled bronze and copper coins from their belt-pouches.
Bienvenudo, Senhora,” greeted the toll collector. “I hope you have had a good journey.”
Isabel's smile was strained as she replied, “It was an interesting journey, for sure, Senhor.”
He inclined his head in askance, but did not voice the question. Instead, he pulled out a wooden tablet and a wand of burned hardwood. “As you say, Senhora. Your name, profession, and reason for coming?”
My name is Senhora Isabel Morales-Diego, Senior Healer of the Southern Circle, and I come for Festival and to visit my family.”
The toll collector started at her name. He glanced at her dress, then stared at the emerald on her left ring finger; Eduardo, her fiancé, had given it to her only last month.
His smile widened. “Ah, it’s so good to have you back with us, Senhora! I won’t delay you any more—“
She overheard another rumble in the line of people behind her. These travelers were tired, hungry and impatient, and the last thing they wanted to see was a noblewoman singled out as a favorite. She reached into her saddlebag, pulled out two silver coins and pressed them into his hand. “Please, take this, as a donation to the town. I am no greater than any other, so please do not treat me as such.”
He was about to protest, but closed his mouth as the sunlight sparkled on the coins. “Te de Gracio, Senhora, for your generosity. Please, enjoy your homecoming.”
Isabel stifled a sigh as she guided Morena onto the Via Soledad. Inns and hostels were filled with visitors. Heavenly smells came out of the taquerias and made her mouth water. The songs of the cantadores mixed with other street musicians. Prayer flags of yellow, white, green and blue fluttered on laundry lines that stretched across the boulevard.
Great prosperity brings great ego, Morena,” Isabel murmured to the mare. “This is one time when I long for the old village, quierida.
Morena threw back her head and neighed. Her whole body quivered with unspoken mirth, as if she was saying, Really? Do you really want that?
Isabel snorted, “You have a point. Those were horrid days, indeed.”
She scanned the various taquerias and saw one that fit the bill: The Bright Lady’s Apron. It sat in a quiet corner, so she could eat her meal in peace. She rode up to a hitching post and tied the reins; a young boy rushed forward and bowed to her.
Que desidera, Senhora?” the boy asked, his voice eager to please.
Give her a good grain ration and plenty of water, chico; she’s come a long way,” she instructed him and placed a copper coin in his palm.
Si, Senhora.” He rushed to the Stables as if the demons were at his heels, and in no time, he returned with several other boys in tow. They carried buckets of grain, a curry comb, rags and polish for her tack. Isabel nodded in approval and the boys set to work.
She smiled and headed into the taqueria with a light step. Her smile widened as the familiar burnt-orange adobe walls surrounded her and the fragrance of cheese chiladas filled the air.
The proprietor managed a smile of welcome, but Isabel saw the pale cheeks and the dark hollows under his eyes. Skin hung on his small frame, as if he had lost a great amount of weight in a short time. The Healer within her asserted itself and she quickly approached him.
Forgive my forthrightness, Senhor, but are you well? I am a Healer and I couldn’t help but notice—“
He shook his head. “Today is the first day I’m out of bed, Senhora. A sour stomach and an angry liver, at least that is what the local Healer says. I feel well enough to mind my taqueria, but not much more than that.”
May I have a look, Senhor, if that is acceptable?”
Of course, Senhora, though I’m not sure if you can do more than what the local Healers have already done.”
Isabel gently laid her fingers on his wrist and Looked within him. His steady, reliable presence had expanded itself beyond the walls of his body; it extended to his taqueria and all within it. His deep devotion anchored him like tree roots into the ground.
She saw the remnants of a dark flow in his blood, a sluggish mass of bubbles gathering at energy points in his body, like caramelized sap. She closed her eyes and concentrated. Golden-green Healing light flowed through her touch and entered those points. To her surprise, the bubbles gathered together and blocked the Healing.
Nostra Senhora, it’s as if they are alive and fighting for their existence! She felt a definite resistance to her power; she prodded a little more and broke through that resistance. Once she was successful, the Healing passed through without any problem. The blockages dissolved into nothing, allowing the energy to bathe the raw, sore tissues.
The taqueria owner sighed in genuine relief. “Senhora, you are a wonder. Thank you. I feel so much better.”
She smiled and withdrew her hand. “Don’t exhaust yourself, Senhor, or the Healing will not remain and you’ll be back where you started.”
He bowed to her and said, “I promise I will heed your words, Senhora. After staying confined to bed for so long, I do not care to repeat the experience. So promises Senhor Ricardo to his miracle curandera.”
Isabel shook her head at the title. “I am not a curandera.”
You should be one.”
She sighed and changed the subject. “My stomach has wrapped itself around my backbone, Senhor Ricardo. Healing is hungry work.”
He grinned and brought out his tablet. “And what do you desire for noonmeal?”
Isabel chuckled as she answered, “Childa filled with vegetables and drizzled with tomato sauce, with cream on the side.”
A sua ordene.” Senhor Ricardo turned and relayed her order in the rapid-fire Santo Tomas dialect. As she waited for the chilada, she engaged in polite conversation with Senhor Ricardo. Even as she laughed at hometown news, her soul became unsettled again.
I must consult with the Master Healers. This is a disturbing incident that must be addressed. The decision lifted a burden from her shoulders and she was able to eat her chilada in relative peace.
After she finished, Senhor Ricardo insisted that the meal was free of charge after the Healing session. She accepted graciously, but gave him a generous tip. By the time she bade him farewell, the stable boys had just finished grooming Morena. Isabel paid them as well, then remounted the mare and continued down Via Soledad, towards the Healing Temple.
A strange flutter brushed past Isabel’s mind, startling her out of her thoughts. The touch held no evil intent, but only intense curiosity. Isabel pretended to read the various signs and banners on the roadside until she found the source of the probe.
All she saw was two eyes under a dark-gray hood. Their gazes locked for a long moment; the probe met Isabel’s mental shields, and those eyes widened in surprise and consternation.
Isabel thought, Who are you, and why are you probing my mind? The woman—Isabel knew it was a woman, for the mind-tone was distinct—gave her a wordless apology, then hastily withdrew the probe. With a swish of her gray robes, the intruder melted into the alleyway.
Curandera. A Mystic from the Sun Lady’s Temple. Isabel frowned. The curandera served the High Priestess of the Sun Lady in the Temple. They had Healing powers, but were not considered true Healers.
Gently, Isabel steered her off the Via Soledad. The mare made her way through the narrower streets of Santo Tomas, past the brightly-decorated shops and the heavenly smells of the eateries. Tumblers and acrobats practiced their routines for the afternoon festivities and street musicians filled the air with music. Isabel waved at the wide-eyed children who paused in their games to look at her.
There, just around the corner, a glimpse of a gray robe edged with scarlet. Isabel spurred Morena onward as the buildings huddled closer together and the alleyways grew narrower. The shadows blocked the bright light and cloaked it in gloom. Isabel shivered, but pressed on.
The street ended in a cul-de-sac. Isabel frowned as she stopped Morena and slipped off her back. Tendrils of rose-colored smoke drifted in the air, but the cul-de-sac was empty. She reached out and “grabbed” one of those wisps and examined it. It vibrated with Earth energy; its signature went beyond the alleyway, but when it touched the Via Soledad, it was lost among the other bursts of energy from the townspeople and visitors.
Wait a moment, this mist is strange...Isabel reached out again with her physical hands and touched it with her fingers. Her fingers vanished within it, as if she has placed it into a rip into the sky. Startled, she pulled her hand back and examined it. Then she tried again, but this time she extended her senses outward. A dark tremor tingled her fingers; Isabel tried to trace it to its source, but the smoke was already fading away. Morena whinnied in concern and she withdrew her hand.
Nothing,” Isabel murmured as the last of the smoke dissipated. “Nothing to tell us where she went. She must have activated some sort of Portal, but it would have taken an extreme amount of power to so. I would be surprised if she had enough strength to stand when she appeared at her destination.”
Morena whinned what sounded like a question. Isabel shook her head. “The Darkness didn’t Feel the same, Morena, but obviously it is here in Santo Tomas.” Isabel shivered at the thought. The curandera served the High Priestess as Her eyes and ears, but could they be doing more than just that?
There was one way to find out.
To the Healing Temple, Morena, quickly.” The mare neighed in agreement, and they backtracked their way back to the Via Soledad.


Forward to Chapter Two