The Prophecy (Daughters of the People Series Book 1) (2 page)

“I know.” Mol’k
placed a hand on the spear’s shaft behind the point, pushing it to the side,
and slid a hard arm around her waist. “A kiss, then, so you’ll know I can be
more than the hardened warrior your father trusted.”

Kiya bowed her
head. “Did you kill him?”

“I had no hand
in that, little one, nor in your mother’s death.” He brushed his cheek along
her temple and lowered his voice. “I went to her after your first bleeding time
and asked for you.”

Her heart leapt
into her throat. “What of Rila?”

“Barren. She
wishes to return to her people at the next gathering. I’ve already freed her.”
Mol’k’s sigh feathered across Kiya’s skin. “Your mother asked me to wait for
you, said I’d know when the time was right to claim you, and when I saw her
body on the ground…”

“She’s dead.”

“I know.”

“Do my sisters
know?”

“They suspect.”
He laughed, soft and short. “The Seer said even after I claimed you, you’d make
me wait to have you. I can’t believe she was so wrong.”

“She never was,”
Kiya said softly. And wouldn’t be this time. She had only to delay. Surely the
six of them together could take down this one warrior, even with his strength
and cunning. She dropped her hold on the spear and gripped his narrow hips.
“You promised me a kiss.”

Mol’k tossed the
spear aside and cupped her face. His mouth lowered to hers, claiming her
gently, and she forced herself to relax under his unfamiliar touch. A little
longer. Bagda had to’ve freed herself by now. She had to be working on freeing
their sisters.

Mol’k’s hand
slid down her face and cupped her nape, holding her close to him as his mouth
moved across hers. A scuff sounded behind him and he jerked back, breaking the
kiss.

Kiya wrapped her
arms around his lean torso and stood on tiptoe. “Teach me how to please you.”

“I will, Kiya,”
he murmured. “We’ll please each other.”

His hands
tightened on her skin and his mouth met hers, hard and demanding, and Kiya
pressed into him, desperate to buy more time for her sisters. A little longer.
A little more.

A thud shuddered
through him and his hold loosened. He swayed and crumpled to the ground, taking
Kiya with him, and she bit back a sob as they fell into the dirt. Soft hands
tugged her away from him into the embrace of her sisters.

She pushed
herself away from them and knelt beside Mol’k, running her hands over the lump
one of her sisters had knocked into his head. He groaned and stirred, and she
backed away.

“We have to
hurry,” she whispered. “Abragni’s waiting for us by Ganenda’s cave.”

Bagda lifted
Kiya’s spear and jerked her head at Mol’k. “What of him?”

Kiya stood.
“Leave him.”

“He’ll come
after us,” Lilleni murmured.

Kiya shook her
head. “Mother told him he’d have to wait to claim me. He won’t go against her
vision.”

She shushed
their questions and ushered them out of the shelter one by one. They traveled
on quiet feet to the edge of the water, accompanied by the moon’s cold light.
Abragni was waiting for them, huddled inside the cave’s entrance, her tiny body
shivering, her face streaked with tears. Kiya lifted the youngest into her arms,
holding her close, and told her sisters what she’d observed, of Mother and
Father’s deaths, of the men’s treachery, and of the vision Mol’k had shared.
They sat in silence for long moments, listening to the water lapping against
the shore and the breeze blowing through the brush.

Lilleni lifted
her face to the moon. “What will we do, Kiya?”

“We wait. We
learn. We prepare.” Kiya stood and stared down at her sisters, meeting their gazes
one by one. “And when the time is right, we strike, avenging the wrongs done to
the People tonight. Tomorrow, we seek shelter away from those who harmed Mother
and Father. For now, we rest. Get some sleep, my sisters. We have a long
journey ahead of us.”

“Blessed be Ki,”
Eleni said.

“Blessed be Ki,”
Kiya murmured.

The soft cry
echoed through the cave’s interior, bouncing against its stone walls, embedded
there as surely as if it had been carved. From that night on, the Seven Sisters
hardened their hearts, and they never, ever forgot the fate delivered upon them
by the envy of men.

The present

Maya Bellegarde
stepped off the private jet and breathed in the sweet air of late spring,
bracing herself against the heat boiling up from the tarmac. The flight from
the States to Stockholm hadn’t been bad. Long, but not bad, and it had given
her plenty of time to think.

Dani Nehring
halted beside her, yawned, and pulled her body into a bone-popping stretch.
“So, Swedish men or Swedish food?”

Maya didn’t
bother with exasperation. The younger Daughter was irrepressible, her sunny
personality a reflection of her bright looks. Dani’s blonde curls, crystal green
eyes, and easy-going smile drew stares wherever she went. In many ways, she was
an ideal companion, optimistic and always quick on the uptake, and maybe that
was her biggest flaw. Very little came between her and a good joke, the bigger
the better. Maya had learned early on to never drop her guard around Dani,
unless she wanted to fall victim to a good-natured prank.

A trim woman
approached from the hangar, her ebony hair pulled into a high ponytail, her
pale face set in an impassive gaze. She was an inch taller than Maya’s own five
foot seven inch frame, slender and graceful, her body fit beneath a loose white
cotton shirt and olive green cargo pants. The woman bowed and her ponytail
swung forward, brushing the ends over one shoulder.

Maya returned
the bow. “How have you been, Indigo?”

Indigo’s
sapphire eyes glinted in the bright sunlight. “Very well, Maetyrm. How was your
flight?”

“Largely uneventful,
even with Dani cracking jokes from takeoff to landing.”

“Hey, now,” Dani
said, and Maya shot her a quick grin.

A slight smile
tilted Indigo’s serious features into soft humor. “I’ve already made arrangements
for your stay. Two rooms inland close to Sandby borg and a late model Volvo
sedan, exactly as Director Upton requested.”

“And the dig?”

“As soon as
you’ve settled into your cabins.”

“So, no men,
then?” Dani asked.

Maya rolled her
eyes skyward. “Business before pleasure.”

Dani grinned and
flipped her blonde curls back. “I have to brush up on my Swedish first, anyway.”

As soon as the
luggage was loaded, Indigo slid into the driver’s seat of the Volvo. Maya
slipped into the back, leaving a chattering Dani to the front. During the drive
southeast from Stockholm, Maya tuned one ear to Indigo and Dani’s conversation
as they shared gossip old and new, and focused on their destination, an
archaeological dig at Sandby borg, the site of a fifth century land fort that
had been abandoned after a brutal massacre.

When Indigo had
contacted Rebecca Upton, head of the Institute for Early Cultural Studies, to
report a promising gravesite at the borg, Maya had volunteered to visit and
examine the skeleton and any artifacts. She’d tried not to get her hopes up. Over
the years, she’d visited a lot of archaeological sites only to come away
disappointed. This one was different, though. There was something here,
something the People could use. She could feel it in her bones, and a
Daughter’s instincts never lied.

* * *

They crossed
Öland Bridge, a six kilometer road connecting Öland Island to the Swedish mainland.
Maya brought her attention back to the conversation as Indigo pointed out
landmarks in the small villages they passed through. They took the perimeter
highway north, then a series of smaller roads inland. Within twenty minutes, a
small group of rental cabins appeared on the side of the road. Indigo pulled up
beside one and parked.

Dani stepped out
of the rental and wrinkled her slim, straight nose. “I thought Sweden was,
like, old. This looks like downtown back home.”

“Not everybody
can live in medieval castles, Dani,” Indigo said.

They checked in
at the main cabin, dropped their luggage off in their separate units, and
freshened up in Maya’s room. The cabins weren’t air conditioned. The June heat
had driven the interior temperatures to a nearly unbearable level, in spite of
the efforts of a single desktop fan placed in each room.

Dani tugged the
neckline of her t-shirt away from her chest. “Man, tonight’s gonna be miserable.
How do you stand it?”

Indigo smiled,
flashing dimples. “We have air conditioning.”

“Spoiled,” Maya
said.

Dani groaned. “You’re
not gonna tell us one of those ‘good ol’ days’ tales, are you?”

“Maybe later, if
you’re really bored,” Maya said drily. “If it makes you feel better, you’ll be
spending part of the night watching the camp instead of here sweltering in the
heat.”

“She may not
need to be at the dig tonight.” Indigo dropped onto the edge of the room’s only
bed. “Looters have hit a couple of nearby digs, so we’ve been taking turns
staying on site at night. It’s my turn tonight.”

Maya nodded.
“Still, I may have Dani do a little recon after dark.”

“She can keep me
company, then.”

“Sure,” Dani said.
“Soon as I have a good look-see.”

The dig was a
short drive from the cabin. Indigo slowed on approach, allowing plenty of time
for Maya and Dani to study the outer ring of Sandby borg’s ruins. The crumbling
foundations of ancient walls rose from the grass, a long-unneeded protection
for the interior buildings. A handful of tents covered tables stacked with
tools, plastic and cardboard storage boxes, and computers. A trailer was
located on the opposite end of the site, near a small storage shed. Only a handful
of people were on site, some engaged in fine digging, others apparently sorting
and cataloguing. One young woman sat alone about fifty yards from the main dig
in an open, rectangular pit, her bent head and shoulders visible above the
earth.

Indigo brought
the Volvo to a halt in the graveled parking area next to a handful of other
vehicles. The three women got out, and Maya and Dani followed Indigo into the
main part of the dig toward the tents. As they approached, two men looked up
from their work at one of the tables, one ancient and stooped, the other on the
upside of middle age.

The older man
retrieved a wooden cane from its resting place against the table and leaned
into it as he faced the women. “Indigo, my dear,” he said, his English heavily
accented, his sagging features animated under a mop of silver hair. “You’ve
brought us quite the treat today.”

“Dr. Lindberg, this
is Dr. Maya Bellegarde from the Institute for Early Cultural Studies and her
assistant, Daniella Nehring. They’re here to examine the anomalous burial.”

“Of course. I
remember. So much excitement here now. The days run together.” Dr. Lindberg gestured
to the younger man by his side. “This is my colleague, Dr. James Terhune. I
brought him in to consult on that burial.”

“Pleased to meet
you.” James grasped Maya’s hand, his own calloused and firm. The warmth of
their grip spread up Maya’s arm. Her heart skipped and her skin tightened, and
a delicious flutter of nerves tingled in her abdomen.

The heat
generated by the simple touch intrigued her. She studied James from beneath
lowered lashes, assessing him carefully. He was taller than her by about four
inches, slim and athletic. Intense chocolate brown eyes peered at her out of a
thin face with high cheekbones, an aristocratic nose, and a mouth that wasn’t
quite wide enough to overpower his other features. He hadn’t shaved in a day or
so and his rich brown hair was slightly unkempt. The ends brushed over the
collar of an untucked, blue cotton shirt worn over jeans and hiking boots. His
hand slid away from hers, creating a warm friction along her palm, and her
stomach jumped.

“Likewise.” Maya
tucked her hands into the pockets of her cargo pants, curling her fingers
around the heat lingering on her palm. “We’re anxious to see the site.”

Dr. Lindberg
pointed the end of his cane toward the grave. “Come, then. James and I shall
escort you. Indigo, would you be a dear and set up refreshments for our guests?”

“Certainly, Dr.
Lindberg.”

“Supper
tonight,” Maya said.

Indigo nodded
and bowed. “Yes, Maetyrm. Dani, gentlemen.” She pivoted and strode toward the
trailer, her movements efficient and precise.

Dr. Lindberg
smiled fondly after Indigo. “Such a good girl, always so helpful. Very bright,
too.”

“I’ve found her
to be so myself,” Maya agreed mildly. The
girl
he’d just sent on errands
was twice his age, though Maya had a feeling that wouldn’t matter one whit to
Dr. Lindberg, even if she could tell him. His fondness would undoubtedly color
his opinion and he’d still think of Indigo as a young woman and not the
century-and-a-half years old warrior she was.

Dani tucked her
hand into the crook of Dr. Lindberg’s elbow. “Well, now that the competition’s
out of the way, I can flirt with the handsomest man here.”

Dr. Lindberg
laughed and patted her hand with gnarled fingers. “Tell that to my wife,
please. She thinks I’ve become crotchety in my old age.”

As the unlikely
pair strolled across the site, Maya fell into step beside Dr. Terhune. They
walked for a few moments in silence, listening to the cadence of the
conversation between Dani and Dr. Lindberg.

“I read your
paper on female divinities in sedentary hunter-gather bands. Fascinating
perspective.” James stuffed his fingers into the front pockets of his jeans. “Now
that I’ve met you, though, I can’t believe somebody as young as you are could
write something like that. The research alone must’ve taken years and you…”

Maya glanced at
him. “I what?”

He cleared his
throat, his gaze focused on the couple in front of them. “You barely look old
enough to be out of college.”

“Just what every
woman wants to hear.”

He smiled and
the corners of his eyes crinkled along faint laugh lines. Their arms brushed as
they walked, shooting a spark of warmth down Maya’s arm.

“You take the
IECS’
Journal
, then?” she asked.

“Who doesn’t?”
He hesitated, cleared his throat again. “I applied for a pass to the IECS Archives
a few years back. They turned me down flat.”

Maya pursed her
lips together. So he wanted access to the Archives, did he? And just when the
People needed him to be there. “I’m sure Director Upton could be persuaded to
grant you a pass if you’re still interested. I’d be happy to put in a good word
for you.”

“Just like that,
no strings attached, for a man you just met?”

“Oh, there are
always strings, and we have just met, but your reputation precedes you. You’re
part of the reason we’re here.”

“Do tell.” His
mouth twitched into a crooked grin, flashing white, even teeth. “Is that my
professional reputation or the reputation I gained in my misspent youth?”

She laughed.
“We’re hoping to lure you to the IECS to work with a new collection we’ve
acquired.”

“So, my
professional reputation, then.”

“It’s a good
one.”

Maya slowed to a
stop. Ahead of them, Dani and Dr. Lindberg had reached the pit, and whatever
was in it must’ve been something. Dani loped away from it, crossing the open
ground quickly, and bounced to a stop in front of Maya and James, her green
eyes sparkling. “Maetyrm, you have
got
to see this.” She spun and
bounded back to the pit.

James eyed
Dani’s receding figure. “Does she always bounce like that?”

Maya sighed.
“I’m afraid so.”

They approached
the pit at a quicker pace. The young woman Maya had spotted earlier was hunched
over a sketchpad next to a single skeleton turned partially on its side. Over
time, dirt had filled in the space between the bones, holding the remains in
place, allowing the archaeological team to examine it
in situ
. Wisps of
what could’ve been fabric clung to some of the bones. Aside from an armband
encircling the humerus of the top-facing arm, the only other items resting near
the body were the remains of a long, fire-hardened wooden spear with a rusted
metal point, still partially submerged in the dirt.

Maya inhaled
deeply, willing her racing heart to calm. “Female?”

Dani tilted her
head in a slight nod.

“Quite exciting.
Burials from that time period are very rare. Immolation.” Dr. Lindberg leaned
against his cane, both hands pressing into its top. “Pyres were very popular in
the fifth century. Good for the soul, but bad for archaeologists, eh?”

“Have you
definitively dated the burial?” Maya asked.

“Still waiting
for the lab to settle that.” James shifted into a wide-legged stance and
crossed his arms over his chest. “Some of the artifacts appear to be centuries
older than others. It’s made dating the burial itself a little tricky, but the
team here believes she was buried at the same time as the massacre.”

A tendril of
excitement wound through Maya. Dani caught her eye and inclined her head toward
the skeleton, her eyebrows raised.