Earth Called, page 3
I have turned my dreams from My love too long. Too long has He indulged in His most base nature—so long that He has forgotten the comfort of life and love and the balance Our combined dreams bring the earth.
My love, the Goddess whispered beguilingly through the powerful tendrils of Her dreams. Hear Me, My love.
The Goddess felt Death startle as Her voice drifted up through the layers of reality and finally Her spark of creation reached Him. He opened His arms and laughed aloud with such joy that even in Her sleep the familiar sound made the Goddess’s lips tilt up.
“Ah, My love. How I have missed You.”
As Death spoke, the Goddess watched Him stride away from the sad, somber group He led through a frigid mountain pass.
“Thaddeus, stay back!” Death snarled at a small, twisted man who attempted to follow Him. “I commune with the Goddess of Life, and shall do so in private. Await My next command with the rest of My army.”
Death turned dismissively, but the Goddess continued to watch the man called Thaddeus and noted that though he did as Death commanded, the look he sent the God’s back was filled with loathing.
Death strode around a bend in the path and stopped. “Where are You, My love? You have not left Me again, have You?”
I have never left You, My darling, My own. It is You Who have left the bed of Your beloved.
Death laughed joyfully again. “Ah, but only for the greater good. My love, look where I am. Look who I lead. When My army and I are through these mountains, we will rule a vast plain and all who flourish there will worship Me. When I have settled, I shall awaken You and the world will begin anew, ruled by Death and Life.”
My own, You know that cannot be. I create through My dreams, balanced by Death at My side, eternally loving Me—eternally being tempered by life. You know what happened in the before time when You awakened and walked the earth. Death ruled and had You continued Your rule there would have been no mortals left to worship You, no verdant fields to sustain You, no succulent creatures to slake Your hunger.
Death scoffed, “Ah, but I learned from My mistake last time. Then I did not awaken You, My love. Your presence here, dwelling within a body that, like Mine, was mortal but is now so much more, will be a counterweight to death, as life always should be.”
Sadness made the Goddess sink more heavily into the womb of Her beloved earth. It cannot be. Mortals are too delicate, too easily broken. The presence of their Creator among them would be the end of humanity.
He shrugged. “Then perhaps humanity needs to end! Or at least humanity as We have known it.” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “I planned to surprise You, but I see that I must reveal Myself now. I have begun to create! Yes, My love, Death is now a creator, too.” Death threw His arms wide and bellowed victoriously.
More sadness washed against the smooth, earth-colored skin of the Goddess. She had, indeed, observed the creatures that followed Him. Some were walking abominations reanimated by restless spirits. Others were not new creations, but rather mutations that were not man and were not beast—but something less than either.
“My love? Why are You silent?”
The Goddess chose Her words carefully, only now truly understanding the danger Her love for Him had not allowed Her to see.
My own, return to Me. Rest in My arms. Submerge Yourself in My love. My verdant body aches for You. After You have sated that need We shall meet in our dreams and discuss this new world order You wish to create.
Death’s sly gaze narrowed. “And should I visit You and fall back into Your arms, how then shall I return to the living world? Shall I languish for centuries until another mortal accidentally awakens me? No. Not even for You will I leave this world that is so alive, so vibrant, so very much Mine for the taking.” His voice softened as He continued. “But rest easily, My love. Trust Me. You will understand when I awaken You. You will never want to sleep again, either.”
The sadness that filled the Goddess of Life shifted as She listened to Death’s arrogant words and changed to disappointment—and then solidified into resolve. He had learned nothing. Without Her to balance His mercurial desires, there was nothing to stop Death’s destructive nature.
The only force stronger than death is life. The Goddess was the only thing that could end the darkness Death was so committed to that He could not see the truth of the destruction He sowed.
I shall rest, My own. And I shall dream of You in My arms.
“And while You slumber I shall continue to create a new world order for Us,” Death said.
The Goddess withdrew from Her eternal lover and watched as He strode back to the abominations He called His creations.
Something flashed at the edge of Her vision as Death disappeared around the bend in the path and the Goddess turned Her attention to the glowing being of light that trudged slowly, sadly after the God. The Earth Mother touched the being with a dream tendril and was instantly flooded with misery as the doe’s untimely end was revealed to the Goddess.
Sweet doe, Life frees you from the shackles of Death. Enter the Summerlands where you may frolic and forget that Death made you His slave.
The spirit of the doe lifted her head as an arch of light opened before her. With a happy leap and wag of her small white tail, the creature galloped joyously through the arch as it closed behind her.
The Goddess of Life hovered there, unnoticed by Death—Who was far too busy failing to command the doe to Him to sense Her presence.
That will slow Him. And now I shall warn them, My people, My mortals, My creations. They are the only things more beloved to Me than Death, and together we shall force Him back to slumber eternally in My arms where He belongs.
Quickly, easily, the Goddess of Life reached through Her dreams to find Her newest Seer, the blind mortal they called Dove, and sent her a warning that the faithful Seer spoke aloud to the people of the plains.
The Goddess should have been able to rest then, secure in the knowledge that Her people would be prepared for Death when He finally emerged from the mountains, but His blasphemy had been Her forewarning. Death truly believed He could create, could bring forth life, which meant He would think He no longer needed the Goddess of Life. He would walk the earth until He crushed every living thing beneath His cloven hooves.
Death could only be stopped by Life, and as He would no longer listen to Her—no longer be satisfied with resting in Her arms and dreaming balance to the world—She would have to come to Him, and for that the Goddess of Life required the aid of Her mortal children.
It would be tricky. It would not be easy to awaken Her, as to do so went against the ways of the Universe, but She believed in the intelligence, bravery, and tenacity of Her children. They would listen to Her voice. They would understand. They would do the right thing—no matter how difficult.
So, the Great Earth Mother, the Goddess of Life, reached through Her dreams once again and began to stir Her favorite children, those directly in the path of Death, to do Her will. With a resolute smile, the Goddess began by touching Her faithful Seer once again …
* * *
Dove came instantly awake—as did the magnificent stallion she slept cuddled against. He nickered softly and nuzzled her hair. Dove smiled and stroked his smooth coat.
“All is well, Tulpar, my beautiful boy. The Great Earth Mother whispered to me through my dream, serving notice that She is stirring and that I should prepare Her people to listen to Her signs and omens.” The stallion blew gently in her face and she kissed his velvet muzzle. “No, we need not warn the Herd yet. We may rest and wait.” Dove yawned mightily and laid her head down against his warm side as she pulled the blanket up more securely around her shoulders. She listened to see if she had awakened Lily and little Dash—her friend and her friend’s Terrier Companion who shared the opulent tent Magenti had erected for their Herd Stallion—but except for the sweet puppy snores of Dash, everything was quiet. As Dove drifted contentedly back to sleep, she sent a silent prayer to the Goddess to Whom she had become so attached. I hear You, Great Earth Mother. I am ready to do Your bidding—now and always.
* * *
Mari slept soundly in Nik’s arms with Rigel pressed warmly against her back. Her arm was draped across Nik’s chest and her fingers rested on Laru’s thick fur. The dream began with an awareness of those fingers, but instead of the big Shepherd’s soft pelt, Mari’s fingers were playing through water. Her dreaming attention sharpened and focused, and she saw that she was standing before a beautiful well that was in the middle of the Plains of the Wind Riders. It was situated in an area of the plains where the verdant land lifted to a small hillock from which Mari’s dreaming self had an excellent view of a massive stone circle and the huge cave that opened into the earth behind it. Purple tents surrounded the cave. Riders and horses went about the business of a prosperous Herd. Over cook fires hung precious iron pots that bubbled and lent fragrance to the warm air. In a wide cleared area a group of Riders performed an intricate dance as they followed an instructor who led them through movements that flowed gracefully like water over river rock. Trees near the cave were filled with apples Wind Riders harvested while their horses grazed peacefully. Others tended large gardens, filling baskets with ripe vegetables. Mari could see that there were several massive skins stretched out in the sunlight to cure. It was a homey, peaceful scene, and even sleeping, Mari was amazed that they had finally made it here—had finally been accepted by the Wind Riders and welcomed to their new home.
The wind caused the water at her fingertips to lap against her skin, pulling her attention back to the well. Mari gazed down at the crystal water and felt a sizzle of surprise as she stared at her reflection. Behind her many Companions gathered: Rigel, Laru, Bast, Tulpar, and Anjo—as well as other animals Mari didn’t recognize. As one, they stared at her with eyes filled with hope, as if they waited for her to do something, anything.
She turned, expecting the space behind her to be crowded, but she was completely alone—except for the sweet voice that sounded much like her mama and drifted to her on the perfumed breeze.
Remember, Mari, you are not alone. You are never alone. You will need them and they will be there for you. Remember …
* * *
River wanted to speak with her mother and her sister about the amazing events of the day—the successful Stallion Run, Clayton’s treachery, and then, of course, the Pack. But after River had settled Mari and Sora and their people, learned the rudiments of how to care for their new Terrier Companions, and then ascertained that Clayton—along with half a dozen Stallion and Gelding Riders and two Mare Riders—had disappeared before he could be detained to await the justice of the Mare Council, River’s exhaustion was so great that Anjo had been forced to complain loudly that her Rider must be left alone to rest and recover. Her mother had nodded in wise agreement with the Lead Mare and retreated from her tent for the night, taking April and little Cleo with her.
River tried to argue with them about leaving, but Anjo’s snort and her own exhaustion won out. River was asleep almost as fast as her head touched her soft beaver pelt pillow.
The dream was so vivid River woke suddenly, shivering with cold.
Snow. There was so much snow, Anjo’s sleepy voice echoed in River’s mind. She yawned and nodded at the mare, who lay on her straw bed across the tent from River’s sleeping pallet.
“I know. It was so realistic it made me cold.” River shivered again. Kit, the little black Terrier curled warmly against her body, stirred, whimpered, and sent River an image of blinding whiteness that was right out of her dream. “It’s okay, sweetie. Go back to sleep. I’ll keep you warm.” The puppy grunted contentedly as River snuggled her more closely.
River was just falling back to sleep when another image from the dream lifted through her tired mind. In the center of the blizzard there had been an incredibly beautiful quartz crystal. It was huge, easily the size of River’s head, and threaded throughout it were tendrils of green—like fronds of ferns had been trapped within it when the earth created the beautiful stone.
It is a powerful water-calling crystal. Anjo’s sleepy voice filled her mind.
“Yeah. I think I remember my grandmother using a crystal like that when I was a little girl, but I haven’t seen it in decades.” She shrugged sleepily. “Not like we’ve needed it. Spring rains have been plentiful for years, but help me to remember to ask Mother about it if rain is scarce next summer, though it appearing to me in the middle of a blizzard is strange. Like anyone would want to call down a snowstorm?” River yawned. “Good night, my beautiful girl.”
Good night, my precious Rider …
And the three bonded creatures slept.
* * *
The only time Ralina, Storyteller to the extinct Tribe of the Trees, could escape the death-filled hell her life had become was when she slept, though sleep was difficult and uncomfortable as they trudged through the increasingly frigid Rock Mountains. She’d often thought she should just wander away—pretend that she needed to relieve herself and leave the path to never return. Though it would mean the end of her life, it would be a relief to never have to follow the vile God of Death and His army of subhumans and reanimated corpses ever again.
Then her big Shepherd, Bear, would whine and press against her side and Renard would look at her and a rare smile would crease the corners of his expressive green eyes—beside him his faithful Shepherd, Kong, would bark encouragement and Renard’s father, Daniel, would say something kind to her. Then Ralina would remember why she must live. Not simply to tell Death’s horrid story. Not simply to try to collect the God’s terrible secrets until she found something she could use to defeat Him, but because she could not sentence her beloved Companion to die with her, and Renard, Kong, and Daniel to face Death’s wrath in her place.
That day the army had stopped even earlier than was their norm. Death had suddenly become excited and had stridden up the narrow trail the spirit of the poor, sacrificed doe had been leading them, ordering the army to stay back—stay away. Usually, He would have commanded Ralina attend Him so she could add more to what He believed to be the magnificent ballad she was creating to chronicle His victorious journey to the Plains of the Wind Riders, but that day He hadn’t called her to Him and she had allowed herself to savor that small reprieve.
When He’d returned from whatever had called Him away from them, Death had seemed as baffled as He was angry. The spirit of the innocent doe He’d called to Him and then slaughtered and enslaved as their guide through the mountain passages had disappeared. The little creature had been tied to the God of Death, miserably doing His bidding for unending day after day, but suddenly she would not answer His call.
Silently, Ralina cheered the doe, Good for you, little one. You figured out how to escape Him.
While the army awaited the next command from their temperamental god, Renard had surprised Ralina with a small cave-like shelter just off the trail he’d packed with thick blue Saleesh blankets.
“Rest until He forces us to continue again.” Renard spoke kindly as Bear lay down on their makeshift pallet and looked expectantly at his Companion to join him.
“No, I’ll help you and Kong and your dad forage for hare and anything green we can stuff them with,” she said, though she looked longingly at the little refuge of blankets and warmth.
“Father and I will hunt. You must rest. You never know when He is going to command you entertain Him with more stories, and your ability to recall those stories is all that keeps us from being Death’s target. Rest,” her lover repeated.
“Okay, yes. You’re right. I-I’ve had so little sleep since we left Lost Lake that my mind is foggy.” She reached out and squeezed his hand. “Thank you for your kindness.”
Renard raised her hand to his lips. “It is my pleasure to be kind to you.”
Wearily, Ralina allowed herself to lie beside Bear, using his shoulder as a warm, furry pillow. Renard covered both canine and Companion with another blanket, touched her hair gently, and then left, calling Kong to him as he and his father picked up their crossbows and a brace of arrows.
Ralina’s eyelids became heavy as she watched her young lover, his Shepherd, and his father head off the trail to hunt. “It’s strange, but somehow in the middle of this horror, I think I have fallen in love with him.”
Bear’s tail thumped and he filled her with warmth and happiness.
“I’m glad you like him, too,” Ralina muttered sleepily. Her eyelids fluttered and then closed as the Storyteller of the Tribe of the Trees fell deeply asleep.
The dream began immediately. It was white. Everything was white. Snow was everywhere. The flakes weren’t like the delicate carvings the most talented of the Tribe’s artists used to decorate their city in the trees with. Instead, the flakes were tiny, but there were so many of them that they seemed to crowd the very air around her making it as difficult to breathe as to see.
Come …
The sweet voice was filled with compassion and in her dream Ralina turned in a tight circle, trying to find who was speaking.
Then a brighter flicker of white caught her attention and before her was a doe. She looked much like the spirit of the poor beast Death had used as His guide through the treacherous Rock Mountains, but this deer was alive, and even a purer white than the snow. Her eyes were ebony, exquisitely beautiful, and filled with intelligence. She nodded her magnificent head at Ralina and then turned her back and trotted away—off the trail. Before she was enveloped in the blinding snow, the doe looked back at Ralina and the sweet voice rang between them.
When you see her, follow her. You have done well, and your time with Death has come to an end.
Even sleeping, Ralina’s heart felt as if it would explode from her chest at the anticipation the gentle words caused.
