Leslie Moore - Griffin's Destiny

“Poor child.” Amara sat on the altar, stroking Jelena’s cold cheek. “The day my son first brought you to me, I knew you would change all our lives. I just didn’t know how.” She dabbed her eyes with the hem of her sleeve. “I will carry the burden of this day to my grave,” she sighed.

“Jelena understood the necessity of what we all had to do, Amara.” Gran squeezed her friend’s shoulder. “She possessed remarkable courage, and so does your son. He won’t fail us, just as Jelena did not.”

“How will we do what we promised, Chiana?” Amara continued to stroke her daughter-in-law’s cheek. “We haven’t the strength left for another major Working. A resurrection must be attempted within the first hour of death. Any later, and the risk of failure is all but certain. By the time our strength is restored, it will be too late.”

“There is a way,” Gran replied softly. “I can give up my life energy to complete the spell.”

Amara stared at her friend. “Chiana…you would do this for my son and daughter-in-law?”

“My life, my true life, ended when I destroyed everything I loved in a mad quest for power. Exchanging my life for hers,” Gran continued, glancing at Jelena then back at Amara, “won’t bring my husband and children back, I know, but perhaps, just perhaps, the One will show mercy and reunite me with them on the other side.”

Amara looked away, too overcome to speak.

“You and Taya will need to act without delay. Jelena’s body is gravely injured. She’s lost a great deal of blood, and could die again if she’s not attended to properly.”

“Yes. I had thought of that,” Amara said. “We should first draw out the knife and bind the wound.” She looked around, then slid off the altar and strode across the chamber to gather the remnants of Sonoe’s clothing. “These should do nicely for bandages,” she said dryly.

Taya returned to find them wrapping strips of cloth around Jelena’s chest. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“Preparing Jelena for resurrection,” Gran replied.

“Sister, we haven’t the strength…”

Gran raised her hand and Taya fell silent. “I’m giving Jelena my life force,” the elder Kirian said.

If Taya felt shock, dismay, or any emotion at all, she gave no sign. Stone-faced, she stood with arms folded, watching as Gran and Amara finished their task.

“These rags are poor bandages, but they’ll have to do,” Gran muttered.

“I’m no doctor,” Taya said, “but I haven’t spent forty years married to one without learning a thing or two. She’s lost too much blood to live. Your sacrifice will be for naught.”

You grieve for her, Amara. I grieve as well, though I may not show it. You and I are made differently that way.

Yes, I know…You didn’t love her as I learned to, but I saw how you came to respect her. Chiana is…

I’m willing…more than willing, to do this.

“I think Jelena will fight to live,” Gran said aloud. “Her love for her husband and child will give her the strength.” She sighed and wiped her bloodied hands on the tops of her breeches. “Once this is done, just go. Don’t stop to see to my body.” Her pale eyes wandered around the chamber before settling on Taya’s face. “This will be a far better resting place for me than I deserve.”

She rose to her feet and said, “Sisters, the Society must never fall into such a state again. The one who can bring us back to our full power has just left to perform the task, on his own, that the three of us could not. If he succeeds, he is the future of the Society.” She looked at Amara.

“Traditions must at times give way to necessity. Amara, send your son to the Kan Onji. His life is wasted as a mere soldier. He needs the proper training so he can fulfill his true destiny.”

Amara nodded, tears once again filling her eyes.

“You were our leader once, Chiana,” Taya said quietly. “I’ve never doubted your wisdom or insight. If you say young Sakehera is the future of the Society, then so be it. I’ll supervise his training myself…if he succeeds.”

“He will.” Gran replied. “And now, I must fulfill my promise. Help me, please.”

The three mages linked hands and Gran completed the connection by taking up Jelena’s.

They began to chant.

Ashinji stumbled as he landed on the hard packed earth of the portal chamber. The lamps they had left behind, though still burning, flickered close to exhaustion. Snatching one up, he bounded to the door and tried to throw it open. It wouldn’t budge. He stared at the door in confusion for a few tense heartbeats until he remembered that Taya had secured it with a locking spell. He reached out with his mind. The energy of the spell had a definite structure; if he could study it long enough, he would be able figure out how to unravel it. He did not have that kind of time. He simply cut through the spell, flung open the door, and ran up the corridor toward the stairs.

It did not occur to him to wonder at the ease with which he destroyed the spell; his mind remained focused on reaching his daughter. He would have time enough for exploring the limits of his newly unbound Talent only if he could stop the thing that now wore Sonoe’s body. If he could find it in time. If he could stop it from killing Prince Raidan If he could prevent it from opening the Void…

If, if, if! Too many ifs! I’ve got to get to Hatora first!

He felt the familiar tug of the link binding his daughter to him, a link stronger, even, than the one that had bound him to Jelena. Hatora’s energy felt calm and unafraid. For the moment, she seemed to be in no danger. That could mean one of two things: The Nameless One had passed her by and was no longer in the castle, or the spirit lay in wait, ready to ambush him when he came for his daughter. Whatever the case, he had no choice but to go to her, and his fears would not be allayed until he had seen for himself that Hatora remained truly safe.

When he reached the secret door that opened into the library, Ashinji did not stop to check if anyone might be on the other side; it didn’t matter anymore that the portal remain a secret. The library lay deserted; he pelted through the empty rooms and out into the corridor, running at full speed toward the apartments where Hatora waited. Sweating profusely beneath his heavy clothes and growing light-headed from the trapped heat, Ashinji paused to shed his coat before continuing.

He pulled up outside the apartments where Jelena had lived as his widow for the last year, breathing hard. Eikko let out a shriek as he burst through the doors, then cried “Captain Sakehera, it’s you!” A heartbeat later, her face blanched with fear. “My lord, your hands are all bloody!” she gasped.

“Where is my daughter?” Ashinji softened his tone as the girl cringed. “Eikko, I’m sorry.” Looking down at his hands, he added, “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He had been so intent on reaching the baby, he had not noticed just how much of Jelena’s blood stained his skin. No wonder Eikko had screamed. “Has anyone come here while we’ve been gone?” he asked.

The girl gulped and ducked her head. “Uh, no Captain, no one.”

“Lady Sonoe didn’t come here?”

“N…no, my lord. Was she supposed to?” Eikko looked scared and bewildered, as if she thought she may have made a mistake, but didn’t know exactly what she had done wrong. “If she did come by, I swear I didn’t hear her knock…”

“Never mind.” Ashinji pushed past the flustered maid and rushed toward the bedchamber. Despite what his magical sense told him, he had to see with his own eyes that Hatora lived.