Harvest of Dreams (The Gods' Dream Trilogy) (29 page)

The othersense dream simmered, and Sadie drifted awake in her bed in her room in Zacatlan, her body still feeling the flush of excitement. Remembering Tharon in the garden, she smiled and curled on her side, snuggling a pillow to her chest.
I’ll see him in the morning
. With a happy sigh, she fell back asleep.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Nabric trotted up the steps to the temple of Ontarem. His long robe flapped against his feet, and he slowed his pace lest he trip. As the Trine Priest, he had too much dignity to bunch up the material, which would allow for easy movement. Yet, a stumble from his foot catching in the hem would be embarrassing and undermine his authority. An actual fall would be considered a bad omen. He repressed a sigh. Before living on the Triangle Islands, Nabric had worn long robes all the time. He’d get used to them again.

I’ll have to become used to a lot of things again
. Nabric strode through the double doors of the temple,
including being at Ontarem’s command for His every whim.

For years he’d thought of returning home with an ache of longing. He’d dreamed of his reunion with his siblings and having a full heady connection with his God, not one stretched thin from distance. But after hearing his sister’s tales of Ontarem’s capricious behavior—His withholding of important information, His focus on warring with His brother, and the strain their people labored under—Nabric dreaded entering the temple.

The sight of the empty pectats struck him first. Even the smell of geserat incense penetrating the air seemed foreign and bitter. The incense on the island had burned sweeter.

The massiveness of the interior of the temple, so different from his smaller one on the island, echoed around Nabric. This building had always contained pulses of power from the slaves to the God, but now the energy seemed flat and stagnant.

And lonely, especially since the strong presence of his siblings was missing.
Nabric repressed a wave of grief for his brother and instead focused on trying to understand the changed energy pattern.

How is Ontarem receiving enough power?

With slow steps, he approached the statue. Ontarem seemed lifeless, His head turned to the side.

“My God.” Nabric bowed.

The God saw him, and His eyes sparked into life.
Approach, my Trine Nabric.

“Ontarem, being in Your presence brings me great joy, although many things have changed since last I stood here.”

Nabric, I need your energy.

“All I have is Yours.” Nabric hoped Ontarem didn’t take his words literally. But with Pasinae’s warning on his mind, he braced himself for an onslaught. Ontarem tugged on his power, but he could bear the depletion, at least for a while. “Ontarem, how are You replenishing Yourself?”

I take from my people, of course. But we need the slaves returned. Too many of my people are dying from their efforts to give to me. I am not pleased by this.
I war with my brother, and I need all my power.

“So Pasinae told me. I would hear more of Your brother if You would deign to tell me the story.”

The God seemed to sigh.
Arvintor is my twin. We equally ruled in Louat, he in Darvenor and I in my city of Darvanac. But my brother was lazy, shirking his duties to travel by himself to Exonlah, a land he loved more than his city, his people. In his absence, his people called upon me when trials beset them, yet they continued to give their power to Arvintor. I couldn’t allow this unbalance to continue.

“So what did You do?”

I found a way to weaken my brother. I bound him in Exonlah and took his power. Drained the energy from his land as well.

Nabric tried not to show his shock. “What happened to Arvintor’s people?”

Ungrateful!
Ontarem’s voice sharpened.

As the God’s harsh tone cut through his mind, Nabric had to restrain from clapping his hands over his ears. Ontarem’s voice wasn’t coming from outside of him, even if it felt like that. He was conscious of the drain on his energy, surely a stronger pull than he’d experienced in the years before he left for the Triangle Islands.

Instead of turning to me,
Ontarem ranted,
they fled across the sea. Yadarius took them as His. They build Seagem and forgot about me.

“All these years, You’ve been trying to get them back.” He made a statement rather than a question.

Of course. They belong to me! I need their powerful energy. They wasted their power on Yadarius who used it on his fish.

Nabric didn’t dare mention that the SeaGod had also given His power to His people. “And the nomads?”

Some of my people became upset with what I’d done to Arvintor and turned their backs on me. How dare they do that? I am their God!

“And You will be so again,” Nabric said in a soothing voice. “We must make a plan to retrieve Your power.”

The statue seemed to relax.
You must take charge of my army. The nomads are whittling away my soldiers at an unacceptable rate.

“How are they defeating Your fighters?”

They have horses and are able to ride into battle, shoot their spears, and vanish. The tall grass often hides their approach if they crawl and set up an ambush. In their homeland, they have the advantage.

“Then we must take away their advantage,” Nabric said coolly. “I’ll direct our soldiers target their horses. I’ll need You to send hot winds over the plain. If You dry up the grasses, I’ll set them on fire. We’ll use the fires to herd the Che-da-wah into one area. Then we can capture them.”

No!
The sharpness was back in the God’s tone.
They defied me. Kill them all!

Nabric stiffened and concealed his dismay at the order. “Should we not keep them alive to honor You? To increase Your power?”

The God’s voice rose.
Kill them all!

At the roar, Nabric tried to hide his wince with a bow. “It shall be as you command, my God.”

~ ~ ~

The next morning, sword in hand, Tharon stepped through the temple window into Seagem, quickly assessing the surroundings for danger. The air changed from the scent of citrus to the hint of brine. He turned and gave an-all-is-clear nod to Devore before extending a hand to assist Sadie over the threshold, dodging the borrowed blade she carried in a scabbard.

Just touching her sent energy charging through him, and he wanted to gather her to him in a hug—no, if truth be told, far more than a hug. She’d come to mean so much to him. When she turned her loving gaze on him, innocent of the depths of his darkness, Tharon wished he truly was the man Sadie believed she saw. He needed to treasure every moment with her, for as soon as he told her the truth everything would change. But he couldn’t help the hope as thin as spider silk that spun through his dark thoughts.
Maybe she won’t turn from me.

She gave his hand a squeeze and smiled her sweet smile. The breeze from the sea that swept through the open sides of the temple teased the fine tendrils that escaped from her braid to curl around her face, and he wanted to brush them back, cup her face, and kiss her.

Sadie looked past him, her expression saddening. She buckled on her swordbelt, containing a sword borrowed from Zacatlan’s armory, and walked into the main area of the temple. At the edge of the pool, she stopped and knelt, placing her palm on the surface of the water. “I hate what they did to him.”

Tharon sheathed his sword, joined her, and saw the fallen statue of Yadarius in the water. Familiar guilt stabbed him. He’d ordered the desecration of the temple and the toppling of all the images of the SeaGod. Even though Ontarem had captured the SeaGod before the reavers and his fleet from Ocean’s Glory had sailed into Yadarius’s protected harbor, the symbolism of the fallen God had disheartened the reminder of Seagem’s fighting soldiers and citizens.

This is something I can fix.
Tharon strode back to the window to Zacatlan and leaned in, searching for Devore. “Did you know the statue of Yadarius in the temple and the one by the palace were felled?”

Horror crossed Devore’s thin face. “No one from Zacatlan has been into Seagem, nor has any of Yadarius’ people cared to return.”

“Summon…” Tharon almost said
my men
. “The soldiers from Ocean’s Glory and the priests and priestesses from Seagem. “It’s time to return Yadarius to His place of honor.”

Devore inclined his head in consent. “It shall be done. Take Sadie to fetch her sword, and I will see to the raising of the statues.”

Tharon returned to Sadie, who still knelt beside the pool. She’d rocked back on her heels to watch him and listen as he explained to Devore what would happen. She rose to her feet, a look of approval on her face.

You wouldn’t look like that if you knew the truth,
he silently told her.

She gestured toward the pool. “I’m glad something can be done to start righting the wrongs caused by that dastardly Thaddis.”

“The act won’t bring back Yadarius, but perhaps if the statues are raised, people give Him power…maybe it will help Him.”

“Yadarius has more than one statue?”

“He has two big ones.” Tharon waved toward the pool. “This one, and one by the palace. However, many people have small images in their homes or businesses. Yadarius also has…had dominion over the ocean and its denizens. As our Archpriestess once explained to me about Besolet…the statue is Her avatar, but Her power is spread throughout our country. But since it is the main statue that is often our focus…the direction for our energy stream, what happens to the physical image can also impact the Deity.”

“What about beyond the boundaries of their counties,” Sadie asked.

“When a citizen who is strong in othersense travels beyond the borders, the Goddess can go too. Although Her power is faint.”

They fell into step, Sadie’s tennis shoes silent on the mosaic floor. The sound of Tharon’s footsteps echoed in the empty chamber. Once they reached the edge of the temple overlooking the city, Sadie wanted to pause and admire the view. Tharon kept on going, although he gave quick assessing glances everywhere, obviously staying alert for danger. As they trekked through the deserted city, she wondered what he felt…if he struggled….

Sadie couldn’t help contrasting the smoke-blackened buildings—the waist-high weeds, the lack of people, the eerie feeling of emptiness—with the bustling city in her othersense dream. Just as the first time she’d visited Seagem, Sadie had a sense of being watched. She peered at empty doorways and windows, wondering if animals like Cheta lurked within, spying on the two of them.
They might not be as friendly as her dog.
She shivered.
“Do you feel it too?”

“That we’re being watched?” His alert gaze never stopped searching their surroundings. “If we’re attacked, Sadie, we fight back to back, you hear me? If they’re reavers, you
must
kill or severely disable them.”

Just the thought of killing someone made her stomach tighten.
Will I be able to?

Tharon swept his hand to indicate the shoals in the sea. “I don’t think they’d risk their ships returning though that rocky girdle that encircles the waters of Seagem.” He gave her a quick downward glance. “The rulers of Seagem kept the way through the rocks a secret. Even Thaddis, beloved foster son, wasn’t entrusted with the map.” His voice sounded thick.

Sadie gave him a quick glance, but his face was turned away from her.

Tharon pointed out to the harbor, to a tower on a rocky island. “Pilot’s Point. That’s where ships would pick up an official pilot to sail through the waters.”

Even from here, the greenstone tower looked ancient and menacing.

“Thaddis kidnapped a pilot.” He stopped talking, swallowed. “Tortured him for the information.”

Her heart ached to see how the sight of the harbor affected Tharon and could only imagine the difficulty he’d have in walking through the deserted streets of Seagem. “Evil man.” The words burst out of Sadie.

“Controlled by an Evil God,” Tharon corrected, but his voice sounded sad.

They walked into a large tunnel covered with tiny mosaic tiles in an abstract pattern of blues and greens.

“Besolet bespelled the maps given to the seascum to burst into flames after a day.” Tharon gave a harsh chuckle. “Bet that burned lots of fingers.” He didn’t sound sorry. “So we don’t have to worry about another attack from reavers. They won’t risk hulling their ships.”

“How do you know all this?”

Tharon didn’t answer.

They emerged from the tunnel into the light, and Sadie forgot all about her question.

The green stone palace loomed in front of them. The side they approached seemed enormous, at least ten stories, topped by round turreted towers. Stone balconies jutted out from the middle and upper stories. Although the glass in many of the lower windows had shattered, the upper ones looked intact.

The fairy-tale beauty of the ancient building made Sadie wish for a magic wand to bring the castle back to life, including the inhabitants.

They walked through what must have once been a beautiful garden. But many of the flowers had died, and the once-manicured bushes and trees had grown high and sprouted branches that waved in the breeze, obscuring the view of most of the grounds. As they passed a flowerbed, purple blooms, unlike any Sadie had ever seen, sent fragrant perfume floating into the air.