Harvest of Dreams (The Gods' Dream Trilogy) (13 page)

“The window to Seagem is opening!” called a voice he recognized as belonging to a priestess of Yadarius.

That news penetrated Tharon’s reverie, stirring his curiosity. He rose and walked toward the doors to the garden, hesitated, then stepped to the side, so he could view the window yet not be easily seen. Priests, priestesses, and a few lay people from both cities, gathered in front of the arch-shaped window, which usually blended into the crystal stone of the dome. Now, however, it glowed. Ripples of power waved across the surface.

The light blinked out, and an opening appeared.

People gasped.

A beautiful young woman stood on the other side, holding a long thin sword. An ocean breeze gusted into the temple, carrying a hint of brine. Beyond the woman, he could see the familiar courtyard of the temple of Yadarius, SeaGod.

Tharon tensed, thinking that with her dark hair and eyes she must have come from Louat. But a few seconds passed before he relaxed, stepped out of hiding, and walked a few steps into the main room of Guinheld’s temple.

The woman studied everyone with curious, long-lashed brown eyes. Her brown hair framed an oval face with a delicate nose and a pink-lipped, sweet mouth. In spite of her hair and eye color, she didn’t look anything like Ontarem’s people. More importantly, she didn’t
feel
like Ontarem’s people. Instead, she felt good…no, more than good.
Warm.
Until this moment Tharon hadn’t realized he’d been cold for
so
long. Guinheld had thawed but not warmed him.

Mesmerized, he walked closer. No one paid him any attention, so focused were they on the visitor.

The woman smiled and held up her hand in a gesture of peace. “Hello, I’m Sadie Issacson. I’m from…another world called Earth. Withea sent me to you.” A surprised look crossed her face. “I’m speaking in a different language, but I understand what I’m saying.”

With a stately tread, Archpriest Devore moved across the room, and people parted for him. “Withea has given you our language, Sadie Issacson. We welcome you to Zacatlan. I am Devore, Guinheld’s Archpriest. Our Goddess told us to expect you.” He held out his hand, reaching through the opening. “Won’t you join us, Sadie Issacson? You must step over the threshold into Guinheld’s temple.”

“Call me, Sadie.” The woman placed her hand in the Archpriest’s, and then she hesitated. “I’ve just adopted a dog. A refugee from Seagem. May I please bring her too?”

“Guinheld has opened the window to you both. Your dog is welcome.”

Sadie released his hand. “Just a minute, let me put away my sabre.”

Devore’s brows drew together. “I think, warrior woman, you will indeed need your sword, and that may be why Withea called you.” A smile softened his somber expression. “But not right now.”

“I have luggage, too.”

Devore looked amused. “You came prepared. Lift your possessions over.” He beckoned to two priests to come forward.

Sadie leaned down. The windowsill hid what she was doing. She lifted a narrow brown box by the handle on top, hefting it over the bottom of the sill. One of the priests grasped the sides and lowered it to the floor. Sadie handed a blue bag with straps through the window, stooped and lifted a long trunk, which didn’t appear as heavy as it looked, for she handled it with ease, and then gave it to a waiting priest. She patted the windowsill. “Okay, Cheta. Up.”

The dog put her two paws on top of the sill. She surveyed the people with intelligent brown eyes in a narrow, long-muzzled face.

Sadie picked up the dog’s hindquarters to assist the animal.

The dog scrambled onto the sill and leaped into the temple.

Her mistress clasped Devore’s hand and followed, climbing over far more gracefully than her pet. Once Sadie had crossed through the window, the opening flicked closed.

Enthralled, Tharon stared at the woman. But at the same time, his fascination made him uneasy. His attraction to Pasinae had caused him to lower his defenses and not pay attention to potential danger. Maybe he couldn’t have prevented his capture, but in his distraction, he’d practically handed himself over to Ontarem’s minions.

Yet, unlike the enslaved feeling he’d suffered with Pasinae, he sensed this woman had a wholesome energy, a purity that was as unlike Ontarem’s priestess as possible. Instead of the rich silks Pasinae clothed her lush body in, this woman wore blue trews made of a coarse material and a plain cotton shirt.

The underfed hound at her side made a beeline for him, rushing up to sniff around his legs. Everyone turned to look, and Tharon found himself exposed.

Unlike the carefully blank or hostile glances of the people around her, Sadie gazed at him in approval, gifting him a smile that showed even white teeth.

His parched heart soaked up the feeling, and he couldn’t help but give her a faint smile in return. How long since anyone had genuinely approved of him? Certainly not for all the years he’d been Ontarem’s puppet.

For a little while, Tharon decided to bask in the light of Sadie’s regard. She’d learn the truth only too soon.

~ ~ ~

Indaran stood at the bow of the
Comali
, Jasmine on one side, Daria and Khan on the other. Their monkey-bats clung to the rigging, grinning with apparent delight at their swinging perch.

The soldiers and some of the former slaves, such as Tempor, had decided to stay and fight. They walked the deck, talked in groups, or rested in their hammocks. A few practiced their sparring. Indaran glanced back toward the stern. Behind their vessel, the other two ships filled with the former captives receded in the distance, bound for Ocean’s Glory and recovery.

Ahead of them, he could see the gray-shrouded land of Louat. In a few minutes, they’d cross the invisible line marking the boundary of Ontarem’s power.

Indaran glanced above him at the lavender sky and below at the blue-green water, memorizing their beauty. So few of his memories had color, only the times since Arvintor and Jasmine freed him from the Evil One’s temple.

The closer the ship sailed to the dark landmass, the more Indaran tensed. He couldn’t help reliving that fateful day when he led three ships full of trusting people into a trap.

I can’t do it. I can’t go back.
He clenched his jaw to keep the words in and grabbed the railing in front of him, gripping the wood as if to anchor himself in place. Images of the last fourteen years of captivity flashed through his mind—black and white, of course, because Ontarem had stolen the color and emotion from them.

But now, with his feelings free and unfettered, Indaran added emotion to the memories—terror, anger, shame, and helplessness—the intensity of which he never again wanted to experience.

He almost reached out to Jasmine to wrap his arms around her, feel her heart beat against his. But he couldn’t. She was in a light trance with Arvintor, the faint connection bolstered by the meditations of Daria and Khan. The plan was to let the Evil One think He controlled them and not have their ship fight the tow to His city. But once they sailed close to the small harbor, Indaran planned to use Arvintor’s strength to change their course. Hopefully, they could anchor, disembark, get up the cliff, and reach the safety of the Che-de-wah before Ontarem’s soldiers arrived to capture them.

I hadn’t thought returning would be this difficult.

The land grew bigger. The gray sky and murky dark-green ocean appeared ever closer. His breath hitched, and his heart began to thump.

Beside him, Daria drew an audible breath and clutched his arm. “I remember, brother, from my othersense dream. I remember losing you.” Her voice quivered. “When we sailed to rescue you, I felt the memory, but not as strong. Then I was focused entirely on finding you. I didn’t know what I was sailing into. Now I do.”

He slipped an arm around her.

Daria burrowed into his hug. “I don’t want to go there, Indaran. I feel like I’m six again, and I’m scared.”

Having his sister put into words what he was feeling helped Indaran lose some of his paralysis and terror. “I know, little bird,” he murmured. “I feel the same way. I’m mustering everything I have to stand here, instead of turning and running the length of the ship, diving overboard, and swimming home to Seagem.”

As he’d hoped, Daria laughed and pulled away. “I was just thinking of heading home, ship and all.
Not
jumping overboard. Khan’s not a good swimmer.”

Khan pulled his mate toward him. “No, I’m not,” he cheerfully agreed, tucking Daria against his body. “Grew up in a desert, remember? But if I need to keep up with you,
habibti
, then I’ll grow fins if I have to.”

The steely look in his brother-in-law’s dark eyes belied his teasing tone. Seeing that, Indaran had no doubt Khan meant every word.

The banter held Indaran’s terror at bay and helped loosen his leaden limbs. He gently pulled Jasmine toward him, careful not to break her trance. With his other hand, he took his sister’s.

“Take deep breaths,” he told everyone as the ship rushed into the grayness. He straightened his shoulders and braced himself.

The others followed suit.

“Here we go.”

CHAPTER NINE

Feeling a sense of anticipation, Sadie landed on the other side of the window to Zacatlan with a slight bounce on the balls of her feet. She took a deep breath. The air smelled of citrus, unlike Seagem’s salty breeze.

She heard a swish. Behind her the portal hardened, turning to stone. Except for the pattern in the blocks, outlining an arch, she’d never know the surface was anything but a wall.
Certainly not a transportation device worthy of science fiction movies.
Sadie turned her attention to the people in front of her.

The crowd stared, making her uncomfortable. They all wore white robes, and most looked similar, no matter their age, with pale complexions, white hair, and silver eyes. Although on closer inspection, however, a few appeared Irish with red or blond hair and green or blue eyes, some with ruddy skin.

Led by the Archpriest, everyone moved closer to Sadie. Devore stepped to her side. He had a narrow, aesthetic face and long white hair pulled back in a ponytail. His silver-gray eyes looked welcoming.

Cheta trotted away from her over to a tall, white-haired man standing in the back of the room.

The man watched Sadie with grave golden eyes in a handsome face.

Cheta sniffed around the man’s legs, her tail wagging.

He must be a good guy
. Sadie gave him a friendly smile.
Dogs always know.

Although about thirty people observed her, they were dwarfed by their surroundings. Unlike the outdoor temple of Yadarius, Guinheld’s was enclosed, or at least this part was. Sadie stood in a large vaulted room, with curved walls made of big blocks from a stone that sparkled like translucent marble. Some silver-leafed bushes in large urns the same color as the walls waved their branches, although Sadie didn’t feel any wind.

The room curved, and Sadie glanced up, noticing the dome shape of the building, more oblong than geodesic.
It’s like being inside a egg.
No pictures or decorations hung on the walls, nor could she see any windows. She wondered what lay outside the building.

The walls lightened, crystalized.

The crowd gasped. Whispers buzzed through the room.

Then the stone became transparent like windows, showing an outdoor courtyard with round beds of orange flowers. Distant white-capped mountains thrust rocky spires into the lavender sky. The temple was situated on a small hill, which sloped to egg-shaped buildings dotting the countryside. Although the scene was foreign to her, the surroundings looked very peaceful, and she couldn’t see the cause of everyone’s excitement.

Sadie glanced around, trying to figure out what had drawn a reaction from the people. But instead of looking outside, everyone stared at her, expressions of awe on their faces. She turned to Devore. “What’s going on?”

The astonished look on the Archpriest’s face smoothed away. “You are very powerful, Sadie. The othersense of several of us must combine to change the walls to an outside view.” He gave her an approving smile, which softened his austere face. “The opening ceremony was going to take place soon. You’ve saved us that chore.”

“I don’t know what you mean. All I did was wonder what it looked like outside.”

“That’s all it takes,” Devore said.

Sadie gave a slight shake of her head, not absorbing the information. “You’ll have to explain.”

A woman about Sadie’s age, wearing a white robe, stepped forward. Her strawberry blond hair curled around a square face with a determined chin and sad blue eyes. A gold trident was embroidered on the breast of the gown. The woman gave Sadie an understanding smile. “It took me some getting used to as well. My name is Wenda. I’m a priestess of Yadarius, SeaGod. I’ve only lived in Zacatlan since the invasion.”

That explains the sadness in her eyes.

“The buildings of Seagem are built of greenstone. They don’t change.” Wenda waved her hand to the walls. “These do. There is a quality in the stone that responds to our thoughts. But only the strongest of us—the priests and priestesses—can do it, and only Devore and Archpriestess Rodna can do it by themselves. And then it takes effort. Not just a stray thought.”