Charlie Madigan: Shadows Before The Sun Part 5

"You need to sit for a minute?" Sandra asked as I caught up with her.

"No, I'm fine. Let's go." I glanced back at the Adonai. He wasn't so bad. Definitely not a jerk like the other one. Maybe people were just in a better mood on this side of the gate, being in paradise and all.

Sandra followed my gaze and my train of thought apparently. "They're still full of themselves," she said as we continued on, walking past high marble columns that lined each side of the terminal. "The Adonai's arrogance is somewhat justifiable, I suppose. They are, after all, the most powerful race in Elysia."

"Yes, but there are others . . . just as powerful or more so."

"True. But as a group, as a whole, they are stronger, more organized and disciplined. Their power shows in every facet of their existence. Once we clear those doors, you'll see what I mean."

She swept ahead of me toward a shaft of golden light that spilled through two-story-tall double doors, which were held open by two giant statues of armored warriors.

It was like walking toward the gates of Saint Peter. My pulse picked up. What existed outside of those doors was the model for heaven. Heaven.

I wasn't deeply religious, but I did believe there existed a higher power-undefined and beyond our understanding. I was well aware the land beyond the golden light wasn't a place of eternal rest, a place where souls found peace and reward. I knew all that, but it didn't stop me from experiencing a profound sense of wonder as we drew closer to the wide shaft of light.

People pa.s.sed in and out of the light, not even noting the beauty of it. And when I did the same, when I pa.s.sed through that golden light, I came out onto a scene that took my breath away.

My first view of Ithonia was framed by ma.s.sive white columns, part of a long colonnade stretching to the left and right. I moved to the marble railing built between each column and stood there taking it all in. From our higher vantage point, the city of Ithonia sprawled out in a gentle slope below us. In the distance, far beyond the city, a sun hovered just above green mountains. The white marble walls, streets, and buildings glowed.

I thought of Emma and Rex, of Bryn and my parents-if only they could see what I was seeing. I thought of Will and wondered if the Afterlife was as beautiful as this, and I prayed that it was.

"Ithonia." Admiration filled Alessandra's soft whisper.

"I never thought I'd see this. Never thought it'd live up to the hype, to the picture I had in my mind, but it does." A hundred times over, it does.

"For once, we are in agreement," she said with a genuine smile. "Many of the ancient civilizations around the Mediterranean-the Minoans, the ancient Greeks, the Etruscans-were influenced mostly by the Adonai and sirens who visited your world in ancient times. The architecture here will seem familiar to you because of this."

For so long the mystery existed of how early humans jumped so quickly from being hunter gatherers to building monumental cities with cultures rich in art, religion, writing . . . For so long historians wondered about G.o.ds, Star People, the Annunaki, fallen angels; those ancient myths of beings who arrived from another world to teach mankind. Those beings turned out to be the Elysians and Charbydons. The n.o.bles had inspired the Mesopotamians and early Central Americans. The nymphs and fae inspired much of the Celtic pantheon, and so on . . .

It made one wonder what mankind would have been like had they not come.

"This was the model for the mythical Mount Olympus, the Elysian Fields, heaven . . ." Sandra added.

I dragged my gaze away from the splendor of Ithonia and stared at the oracle. She was smaller than me by almost a head, but her presence well made up for her size. Granted, I didn't know much about her personally, and she liked it that way, but I did know the oracle never did anything without a price.

"Why are you here, Sandra? So you can't see my future or Hank's; it doesn't explain why you felt the need to come."

"I told you already." She moved back from the view and began walking down the long colonnade, so tall and colossal it made us look like ants. "The mages' league isn't far from here. We should head straight to Fiallan. We'll be detained outside of the inner walls until we're cleared for admittance, so we might as well wait there instead of wasting time here."

"No, you didn't tell me already. Not really." Her steps had gone swifter, until I was almost jogging to keep up. "Sandra. Slow down." And still she went. "Will you just stop for a minute?"

Several pa.s.sersby stopped-at least they listened-appalled by my raised voice. Guess that didn't happen too much in paradise. But Sandra had stopped, too, so I ignored the curious looks thrown our way and edged us over to one of the columns, lowering my voice. "My partner is missing, dead if you want to believe the Circe, and right now he's probably wis.h.i.+ng he was. This isn't a game or an adventure or whatever it is to you . . . and you can't keep running away from giving me a straight answer. There's too much at stake not to know your intentions. I won't be going in blind like this."

Frustration ballooned inside of me. Alessandra was two thousand years old. Did she even appreciate how precious time was for those of us whose life span was so small? Did she understand loyalty and love and family? Before we went further, I had to know her objective.

I heard whispers from people who pa.s.sed by us. Oracle. The oracle. Clearly she was known here. Clearly from the tone, she was revered here.

Sandra pulled me deeper into the shadow of the column, her eyes glowing brighter than before. Ah. There it was. That p.i.s.sed Off Green I knew so well. "Okay. Fine. Here's the truth. The only time I'm not able to see another's future is when their fate is intertwined with mine in a significant way." She let that sink in. "Our fates have collided. Mine, yours, Hank's. I'm here because I must play whatever part Fate has laid out for me. That is the law of the oracle. And as much as I'd rather be back in my temple knitting a sweater for my python, I cannot break Fate's Decree, trust me on that." Her voice broke for the briefest of seconds. Then, she squared her shoulders. "Fate requires me to come and face my destiny and so that is what I must do. And, for the record, I'm not enjoying this any more than you."

"So what if you refused to play your part, what then?"

"That never works, Charlie. Trust me. I'm old enough to know and let's just leave it at that. I cannot escape my destiny. Neither can you." She glared at me, daring me to challenge her.

And then it hit me. "You tried once before, didn't you?"

"What?"

"To not follow this decree. You tried and failed. I can see it in your eyes."

Her expression went stony, and her hands curled into fists. Then, she seemed to regain some control because her eyes went narrow and shrewd. "You are the most irritating human I have ever known. And let me put that into perspective for you: I'm two thousand years old."

Yeah, a two-thousand-year-old know-it-all, I wanted to say back.

She swept around me, proceeded to the end of the colonnade, and then went swiftly down the wide marble steps.

"Well, that's quite an achievement," I mumbled, feeling a little offended. "Maybe I should add that to my resume."

We went the rest of the way through the city in silence, which was fine by me. It was all very Utopian. Wide, clean streets. No machines or pollution. Gorgeous architecture that surpa.s.sed the great temples of ancient Greece and Rome. Only these buildings weren't in ruins; they were majestic and pristine.

Don't let the landscape fool you.

This place was a paradise, no doubt, but I was well aware that evil existed here just as good existed in the h.e.l.lish realm of Charbydon. Looks were deceiving and I knew better than to be influenced by my surroundings.

"This is it," Sandra said, veering across a wide square to a ma.s.sive templelike building that took up one side of the entire square. "Your mage should be here."

We jogged up the steps. The doors were open like they were back at the terminal-the weather here was always beautiful-and while the mage's headquarters held priceless artifacts, books, and powers beyond belief, no need for a lock; the Elders here had other measures in place to secure their treasures.

Inside was a long main gallery, both sides lined with statues of mages holding staffs, books, orbs, and other arcane devices. The tall columns that supported the roof and lined the gallery were black as were the walls. Arched doorways led into rooms off the gallery, but it was the marble floor that commanded my attention and awe. It spread out like a perfect photograph of the night sky, like someone had stretched the universe flat and laid it on the ground, twinkling stars and all. The lofty ceiling was a mirror image of the floor.

Low voices, the soft swish of robes, and echoes filled the place, but it was all tempered by the s.p.a.ce, a s.p.a.ce designed to make one feel small and yet part of something greater, part of the cosmos, and open to the mysteries that lay within. Sandra, in her veil and robes, with those strange eyes, fit right in.

The delegates had been here, had employed the services of the mages who knew how to manipulate matter and energy, to take a person from one place to the next in the blink of an eye. For a hefty price, of course. There might be portals from one world to another, but there were no portals that linked cities within worlds. You traveled the old-fas.h.i.+oned way-by foot, by horse, by flight, by crafting, or you hired a mage.

I pulled out the itinerary Sian had originally prepared for me and t.i.tus, using the same travel template the delegates had used, and proceeded toward the appointed room.

We were stopped several times by mages who recognized Sandra and greeted her with a reverence I knew she adored. And every time we moved on, she gave me a superior smirk, making me wonder which she loved more, the attention or getting on my nerves. "I'm surprised they aren't asking for your autograph," I said after the last admirer left us.

"Elysians might be G.o.dlike, but one gift they do not possess is divination. They have come to me for ages to get a peek at the future, and they've paid in riches you cannot even imagine in your paltry human mind."

"Which," I pointed out, "makes one wonder why you set up shop in Underground Atlanta of all places. Why not buy a small country and live like a queen?"

"Well, that particular information would cost you, now wouldn't it?"

"Do you do anything without a price, Sandra?"

"I'm doing it right now."

We pa.s.sed libraries, apothecaries, cla.s.srooms, and with all the interruptions, I was pretty sure we missed our destination. I scanned the paper. "I think we were supposed to stop at the room we just pa.s.sed . . ."

Sandra stopped suddenly and held out her hand.

"What?"

"Your itinerary. Give it to me."

I gave it over, pointing at the paper. "That's what it says for travel, it's the ninth door down on the right. That's also where they sell the grimwyrd I'll need to . . ." She tore the paper and threw the pieces into the air. They floated down to the polished floor. "What are you doing?"

"Forget about the schedule, and the grimwyrd. You really want to shove a needle in your arm every day you're in Fiallan? You're traveling in style now. Watch and see what being celebrated three worlds over gets you. Perhaps then you will develop some respect for your elders."

I gave her an unimpressed look. "Doubtful."

Her lips quirked into a faint smile. "I knew you'd say that."

She continued on as I glanced around, expecting someone to appear and give us h.e.l.l about littering on the amazing floor. But the paper stirred as though a breeze had come, though none had, and fire ate up the paper in a soft whoosh until it ceased to exist-ashes and all. Just like that.

A self-cleaning floor. G.o.d, these mages are brilliant.

I caught up to Sandra, wondering if my crafting sister knew how to make a floor clean itself, and wondering how the h.e.l.l to get around the human/siren issue if not a daily injection of grimwyrd.

"Okay, so if not grimwyrd then what exactly? It's what the human delegates used. It's what every human going into siren territory uses."

"You'll see," was all the answer Sandra deigned to give.

On Earth, sirens were required by law to wear voice-mods to subdue their natural lure and insanely potent voices. Sirens gladly wore the device since the idea of being followed around by a bunch of drooling men, women, children, and some animals was not exactly their idea of a good time. But here, things were different. This was their world where humans were a very small minority. It was up to the human traveler to protect themselves.

Because of my otherworldly genes, I was developing a partial immunity to the natural siren lure, but I didn't want to chance it. I needed my wits about me, and grimwyrd was the only thing that blocked the lure.

The gallery dead-ended at a tall arched doorway. The hallway split, going left and right. Before we came to the intersection, the ma.s.sive doors opened and three mages swept toward us. The two on the left and right were male, fit, with strawberry blond hair and dark, intelligent-looking eyes. Brothers, maybe even twins. They both wore the long forest green robes that signified their level as Magnus, which put them at a couple hundred years old even though they looked to be in their mid-thirties. The only level above Magnus was Elder, and the Magni had a couple hundred years more of study and training to reach that distinction, if ever. The woman who stepped from the middle with her hands reached out to Sandra's in greeting, however, already had. She was an Elder.

Whatever she said to Sandra was lost on me because she spoke in the common tongue of Elysia, but it gave me time to study the newcomer. The woman had a kind face, hair on the blonder side of strawberry that had gone white at the temples pulled back into a high bun. Her robe was white, without a single embellishment. She was nearly as tall as me, and attractive with high cheekbones and proud nose.

"Forgive me," she said, turning in my direction. "Sometimes I forget not everyone can understand our language. I'm Edainnue Light.w.a.ter."

I held out my hand. "Charlie Madigan."

Her smile grew wider, and she seemed so pleased. "Oh, I know. I know who you are, dear." She introduced her nephews, Brell and Trahern Light.w.a.ter, and then invited us into her private study beyond the ma.s.sive doors.

"I can't tell you how delighted I am to see you, oracle. It has been too long, much too long. And to come with this one! A surprise to be sure. Tell me, Charlie Madigan," she said as she sat down behind a low marble desk, "how do you feel?"

I was halfway down to one of the chairs opposite the desk when the odd question made me pause for a second. "I'm fine. How is it you know me exactly?"

"Hard not to know the person who called primordial darkness from one world to another." She leaned against the high back of her chair and steepled her fingers under her chin, her shrewd bright blue eyes intent and curious. "It's quite a feat, what you did. Some claimed impossible until you proved them wrong."

I thought of Emma; I'd move mountains for her if I could. I ended up moving darkness. "It could've been anyone," I said. "I just happened to be in the right place at the right time."

"Dead, I hear, when you were given gifts of the n.o.ble and Adonai. Not what I would call the right time, eh?"

As nice as Edainnue Light.w.a.ter seemed, I hadn't come to Ithonia to be interviewed or to chat about all the things that had happened to me. I'd come for my partner. "I survived. I see that as being in the right."

Light.w.a.ter laughed and said to Sandra, "She does have spirit, you're right."

Sandra leaned over the arm of her chair toward me. "Just so you know, spirited is not the word I used to describe you."

This made Light.w.a.ter laugh again, and my impatience rose. "I don't mean to be rude, Ms. Light.w.a.ter, but-"

"Right, right. Fiallan, I know. Reclusive, the sirens of Fiallan, even from their own kind. Quite cut off from the rest of the world. Though, they choose to be that way. I will have Trahern and Brell take you both, but first you will need a few things for your journey and I would beg an audience with the oracle in return."

"Accepted," Sandra said, not giving me a chance to speak.

My cheeks grew warm and I squeezed my fists tightly. How long was an audience? Hank could be in trouble, hurt, dying for all we knew and they wanted to hang out and chat about the future?

"Charlie." Sandra's voice pulled me out of my internal tirade. Light.w.a.ter was eyeing me with interest, and her nephews stared at me with concern. "Your hand."

I glanced down and saw the symbols on my right fist were beginning to glow. s.h.i.+t. I pulled my hand back into the sleeve of my jacket and drew in a steadying breath. "It . . . does that sometimes," I tried to explain, but it just sounded lame. "It's just that . . . time is crucial, and I have to get to Fiallan as soon as possible."

"You have the right of it, to want to move quickly. I understand. Your delegates came through a few days ago, and I believe they were attempting to free a siren who was wrongly accused, though the specifics were not told to me." Light.w.a.ter studied me with ancient eyes, wise and knowing. "You will need a few things, of course."

She stood, pushed her chair aside, and then bent to root in the large cabinet behind her. "First," she said over her shoulder, "a cloak of the apprentice, and then . . . ah, there it is." Light.w.a.ter gathered her finds and came around her ma.s.sive desk, setting them on the corner. "Here, put this on." She handed me a dark blue robe. "Fiallan doesn't get many foreigners, but the occasional human student of the arcane isn't unheard of."

I stood and took the robe, grateful and suspicious at the same time. There was no reason for her to help me. True, the Adonai had no love for the sirens of Fiallan-even sirens from other cities had no care for their brothers and sisters-but to offer all this. Was it because of Sandra or some other reason?

"And this." Light.w.a.ter presented an amulet.

I took it and examined the tear-shaped milky blue stone etched with a spiral of symbols from top to bottom. "What is it?"

"You're about to enter the land of the sirens, Charlie. They wear no voice-mods like they must in the human world. You might be changing, evolving into a being capable of withstanding their voices like we do, but you're not there yet, so let's just play it safe and wear this at all times." Ah, so here was the Elder's version of grimwyrd.

"Wouldn't want you drooling after every siren who crosses our path," Sandra quipped.

I shot her a hard glare. "I'd planned to buy some grimwyrd."

Light.w.a.ter only chuckled. "Two spirited ones, I'd say. And this is for language." The Elder came at me with her pointer finger.

Instinctively, I stepped back. "What are you doing?"

"She's making it so you can understand and converse in all languages," Sandra said with a sigh. "Really, Charlie, try to keep up. It's a simple syndialexi spell. Relax. Travelers do it all the time."

Light.w.a.ter gave me a motherly smile. "It won't hurt a bit." Her pointer finger pressed against my temple as she muttered words unknown to me. Warmth radiated from her touch and spread through my skin. Gentle and un-intrusive and then it was gone almost as soon as it began.

"There. Now you may talk and understand."

She was close to me, so close I could smell lavender and sage on her skin. "Why are you helping me?"

Light.w.a.ter leaned her hip on the edge of the desk and folded her hands in front of her. "Because I want something in return."

Ah, there it is.

"After you have obtained your goal, set things to right, and have had time to recuperate from your journey, I would ask you to return here to Ithonia and grant me two days." My eyes narrowed. "To study you. To learn. I will have you answer any question posed to you and demonstrate your gifts to the best of your ability."