Italwaysstops.
Storms pass.
Pain ends.
We will never quit.
I tell myself this, over and over and over, for hours or years or eternity, rocking back and forth, muttering to myself, keeping the worst of the water away from Bern’s and Kaelen’s faces.
But the rain, unimpressed, shows no signs of stopping.
Finally, when I decide I have to stand and stretch or my back will break, that the men will have to suffer the rain on their faces for a few short minutes, a glimmer of sunlight crosses the ground in front of me, and I look up with dull shock.
It stopped raining.
It stopped raining.
From the position of the sun breaking through the clouds, it must be midafternoon. I take a while to think of what to do next, stiff and hunched over as I am, but finally, bleary-eyed, I look up to a cloudless sky.
I groan and stretch, easing Bern and Kaelen off my lap so theirheads rest on the slightly drier grass where I was sitting. Then I stand and kick the sodden remnants of my first fire out of the way and start the process all over again with the branches and tinder I saved from the rainstorm. When the fire is finally burning steadily, I slump down next to it and try to decide what the next most important task should be.
Food?
I’m too tired to think of how to find food. Instead, my thoughts wander to the key in my pocket. I haven’t even really had a good look at it yet.
Almost furtively, scanning the area for draugrs or Zhagarn or Fell, I pull the key out of my pocket and examine it, hoping for some kind of sign or magical guidance.
But it’s just a key.
Beautiful, ornate, clearly very old, but just a key.
I get a mental flash of the goddess back in the Pyrrhan throne room.
I will grow stronger as you find the keys and attach them to my amulet.
I can do that. Now would be a wonderful time for a strong goddess to appear.
I unfasten the clasp and, holding the amulet’s locket in one hand, slide the key onto the chain and then fasten it back around my neck. When I rise, there’s a gentle clinking sound when the key touches the locket. A bolt of light shoots forward, originating in the amulet and dispersing into a cone of luminescence a few paces away.
Inside this glowing beam, a barely visible female form appears. Although I can’t make out her face, I can hear her voice in my head.
Artemisen.
You succeeded, little one. You retrieved the key.
“Not on my own, and at what cost?” I demand. “Are my companions dead? Will Kaelen and Bern die from their injuries? Or because I can’t find food?” My anger flares up like light from the amulet, surprising me with its intensity.
Artemisen seems unbothered by my tone when she continues,I canhelp with these small things, even from my prison. The key’s connection to my amulet gives me momentary strength.
Before I can ask what she means, the light sweeps forward and over Bern and Kaelen on the ground. When a wave of it touches me, too, I realize it’s not just light. It’s warmth and joy and music.
It’s the scent of spring flowers and fall apples. The icy breath of winter and the heated sunbeams of summer.
Healing and strength.
I tentatively touch my head, but the ragged wound is gone.
Iamthe goddess of nature and balance, after all.Her voice in my head holds a hint of amusement, but I don’t find any of this funny.
