Page 151 of Between Soul and Vessel
Your reflection? Fish?
Neither of those worked for the rest of the riddle. It had to be light, that was all I could—
Von’s flame burnt out as the stormunleasheditself. With the force of a spooked horse, it railed into me, sending me flying. I landed on my side, an involuntaryoomph!escaping my mouth. The lantern came to a rolling stop—glass shattering.
No!
Shooting onto my fours, I scramble-crawled toward the lantern as fast as my limbs would allow. A second before I reached it, the handle tugged upwards, and the lantern rose into the air, as if plucked up by an invisible hand. For a second, it floated there, and then it was tossed into the storm,disappearing instantly.
I smashed my fist against the ground, growling, “Damn it!”
The sandstorm was sentient, looking for ways to keep me stuck there, and so far, it was succeeding.
I allowed myself to sit in my frustration for a brief moment before I shoved off from the ground. I stood then blew out a breath of air, unclenched my jaw, and tried to focus on what my next steps were. Getting out of here and finding the others was my top priority. But how? My voice was no match for the winds. I couldn’t see more than ten feet ahead of me, sometimes less. I didn’t even knowwhatdirection I was going in.
I looked down at the shards of glass broken in the sand—all that remained from the lantern. They jumped at the wind’s call, but for some reason, it left them there. Apparently, broken glass wasn’t a threat, but it had sure taken the lantern awfully fast.
My eyes narrowed.
That was it!
The second Von’s flame had gone out, the storm intensified, which meant lightwasthe right answer. It just wasn’tenoughto assuage the tempest beast.
I reached down deep, stroking my powers with a loving hand, rousing them from their slumber. They stretched and stirred, a loyal pet, rubbing against my hand, eager to do my bidding. Like the crescent of a building wave about to broach shore, I felt it swell, and then I unleashed it with a mighty roar.
Silver light coiled around my skin until I was glowing as bright as the moon. I thrust my hands up into the air, and light poured from my palms, so bright, I nearly had to close my eyes. It scattered the sand and governed the winds, clearing a path before me, leading straight up to . . .
A monumental palace ripe with ancient architecture. The behemoth had to be over thousands of square meters wide. Spanning its great walls were various symbols, images, and dialects. Stone-carved figures—comprised of animal heads attached to human-like bodies—stood vertically, side by side, weapons in hand. They stood in front of the entrance, guarding it from newcomers.
Forcing a breath of air into my benumbed lungs, I started toward it.
Sage
Soft music, accompanied by the buzz of light conversation, greeted me as I walked through the massive, doorless entrance into a grand foyer. The palace was made from limestone and granite, the vast walls etched in ancient symbols and words—archiving the languages of this realm and possibly, even more. Various species—bothmale and female—stood around the foyer, studying the markings on the walls, not one mask or face covering to be found. Judging by the books in their hands and the robes they wore, they were scholars.
A great span of stairs sat in the middle of the room, leading up to a mezzanine.
At the very top, a towering female stood, wrapped in an aura that emanated grace, patience, and deep understanding—as if she knew the secrets of the universe and its inner workings. Curly, brown hair floated past hershoulders, marked by a coil of silver that sprouted from her left temple. She was dressed in a chiton spun from fine ivory silk that draped elegantly down her lithe frame. An open book hovered in front of her.
“Welcome,” she said, her tone soft and mystical, “Sage, Goddess of Life.”
“You know my name?” I asked, my voice hoarse from calling out for the others.
“Indeed. I know a great deal about you,” she said as she began to descend the stairs, the book floating along with her.
She looked . . . familiar, although I didn’t know why that was.
I decided to start with what I did know. “You must be the Goddess of Knowledge.”
“I am, but you can call me Naia.” She offered a kind smile. The book shut, and then it disappeared. “Welcome to my palace.” She gestured grandly.
“Thank you,” I said, glancing around, taking it all in—particularly the fact that men walked around freely within these walls, conversing and smiling, their faces free of cloth. They seemed . . . happy. It was a far cry from the men I had seen in the outside world. “The empress’s laws do not apply here,” I stated, more to myself than anything.
“No, they don’t,” she confirmed. “I believe that intelligence is something that must be protected at all costs, and, unlike the empress, I do not discriminate based on someone’s gender. So, those who are able to figure out my ever-changing riddles and find their way past the sandstorm are granted sanctuary within these walls.”
“Ever-changing?” I asked.
“Indeed. I feed them out into the world, and they find the ones they were meant for. The light one was specifically for you.”
