Ryoo stood at the window in her tower room, her arms stretched out towards the west, her eyes closed in concentration.
Sarah stood nearby, watching with closed eyes. Ryoo had taught the girl to piggyback on the Witch's perceptions, so she saw and heard everything the elf-woman did.
She also felt Ryoo's emotions, dark and terrible.
Ryoo lowered her arms and opened her eyes. Sarah did the same an instant afterwards.
"Did you perceive how I brought up the storm, Inaryoo?" Ryoo asked with something akin to fearful curiosity in her eyes. "Even so far away as Maychoria?"
"I… think so, your highness." Ryoo's hatred had left Sarah as quickly as it had entered, throwing her momentarily off track. "I believe I could repeat the charm."
"Try now, apprentice!" the queen ordered.
Sarah barely hesitated, then stepped into Ryoo's place at the window. She looked out on the black stone city of Kakon stretching before her and beyond that the cracked, red earth of the Waste of Galgolb.
Bringing her bitterness toward her sister to the forefront of her mind, Sarah lifted her arms and spread her fingers, stiffly pointing to the west. A grimace of hate spread over her face. She could feel the dark, cold energy of her emotions flowing from her heart to her fingertips, deadening and weighing them down. It took all her strength to keep her arms up in the air, but she did it. A growl escaped her lips as she closed her eyes and thought she saw Cheryl, as if through a mist. The older girl was smiling and laughing at… something. It didn't matter. Sarah knew, in that moment, that she hated Cheryl with all her heart.
Again she growled and concentrated all the anger and malice and bitterness towards the focal point of her hate. A rumbling yell began low in her breast and burst out. She struck.
In the castle, Cheryl suddenly felt something strike her heart, knocking her back over a bundle of something. The deadweight of someone's hatred pulled her down to the floor and held her for a long moment. Quickly, so quickly it didn't seem possible, her eyes closed and blackness rushed over her, enfolding her in sickeningly heavy, spiritually rotten waves, as though she were drowning in black glue. Consciousness fled like a bird frightened by the rumbling of a breaking dam, and she remembered no more.
Sarah turned to see Ryoo staring at her, a maliciously satisfied grin on her face.
"Very good, apprentice," Ryoo said with a low chuckle. It was the greatest praise ever bestowed on Sarah by the Witch, and she flushed with pleasure. "However." Sarah's face fell. "You did not do as I told you. Now, create a storm."
Sarah raised her arms again, trying to summon up the tremendous power of her hate. But it had fled with the petty happiness of being able to strike her sister. Now all she could bring up was mild displeasure at not being able to create a big storm. A delightful little shower skipped down upon the outskirts of Kakon. It was blessed instead of cursed by the inhabitants, who lifted their faces to the sky and thanked the Maker for the first rain in months in that dry, desolate place.
Mariel was glad for the rain. She skipped happily from puddle to puddle on the way to visit her grandmother.
"Isn't the rain beautiful?" she asked as she leaped into the tiny living place.
She left the door open and listened to the merry tinkle and splash as she knelt by her grandmother's bed, grinning. She then noticed the doubt lingering in the old woman's face, and her smile faded.
"Don't you like the rain, Grandmother?" she asked in sudden alarm.
"It--it just doesn't seem quite… quite right, my dear, as if it wasn't meant for joy, but for sorrow."
Mariel's face turned pale as it hit her.
"You don't--you don't th--th--think--" she stammered.
"I do," was the solemn answer.
Neither voiced it, but both knew the origin of the storm.
Not Ryoo. It was not powerful or bitter enough.
It was Inaryoo, the Witch's apprentice.
Mariel shivered.
Sarah lowered her arms and sighed, disappointed in her weakness.
"What happened, your majesty? Why was my power so pitiful this time?"
Ryoo chose her words carefully; saying just what she knew Sarah wanted to hear. "Your mental energy was drained by your strike at our enemy. You must rest now, and tomorrow your anger will rise again, two-fold." The evil 'kind,' false expression on Ryoo completely duped her pupil.
"Thank you, master," Sarah said.
"Oh, you're welcome." Satisfaction was on the Witch's face. "You're very, very welcome, apprentice."
Cheryl became aware of a dim light far above her. It seemed dark and muffled, as if a layer of murky water separated it from the girl. She heaved a breath and pushed for the light, moving upward through the thick liquid. Her movements were slow and sluggish, as if she were thrashing through set gelatin. An urgent voice filtered down to her from the source of light, and she pushed harder, finally breaking the surface with a gasp.
Cheryl blinked and found she was lying on her back on the cool marble, surrounded by concerned faces.
"Cheryl!" Ralph cried in relief. "I was so worried!"
"Oh," Faela gasped. "Are you all right?"
"What happened?" Cheryl moaned, trying to sit up.
Lenny, holding her hand, pushed her back down.
"Lie still!" he admonished. "Prince Emrey will return soon with the medical supplies."
"I don't understand," Cheryl complained. Her head and chest hurt fiercely, and she had little patience with her body. She always expected it to work whenever she asked it to, and sometimes it didn't.
Viara had stopped rubbing Cheryl's hand when she woke, but now the elf began again, gently.
"We thought you might tell us," she explained carefully. "All we know is one moment you were standing, talking, laughing, and the next you were lying on your back, unconscious."
Ralph and Arim nodded, sending drops of water flying from their wet hair. Cheryl was splashed, but it felt almost warm compared to the cold, heavy stuff she'd been immersed in.
"What happened, Cheryl?" Lenny asked quite gently, for him.
"I--I think I was hit by something, in my heart." She put a trembling hand over her chest. "I was hit by--by someone's hate. It was so hard and cold, dark and heavy. It weighed me down." She gasped. "It was Sarah! Her hate! Oh, I'm so worried about her!"
Despite the restraining hands, Cheryl struggled to a sitting position. "She really has joined Ryoo!" she sobbed. "Oh, what has happened to her?"
Lenny leaned closer and put his arm around her shoulders. "Cheryl, you've got to rest," he reminded. "We'll get there, we will."
Cheryl leaned her aching head on her brother's shoulder and wept, letting out her pain, fear, and confusion in a few stormy sobs.
For one long moment Mariel stared at her grandmother in puzzlement and awe.
"How can you know such things?" she asked.
"Of El Shaddai? And the ancient stories?"
Mariel nodded. After the first shock of learning that Inaryoo could already affect the weather, Grandmother had begun again to tell Mariel the old tales. The ancient story of how the Maker created Men from dust, Elves from light, and Dwarves of rocks with iron and gold in their cores, in the first days of Creation before just about anything. But even before then, He made Hosiotos and those first servants, the Elinrómi, who took on the bodies of creatures when they walked in Madra. She told of the war in the sky, when Kataphage rebelled against his Master and proclaimed himself King of kings.
"But there is only one King," Grandmother had said in her old, weak voice.
And so Kataphage had learned, for he was cast out of Hosiotos with all his followers. He tried to tempt the Three Peoples away from Abba's love and care. And the Men allowed themselves to be fooled, and soon the other two Peoples were also drawn into slavery. Yet El Shaddai did not let them linger in servitude, but showed them a way out.
It was at this point Mariel interrupted.
Grandmother smiled. "You know how we came to be here: through Ryoo's trickery and our own weakness. Among the sojourners who were trapped here was an Elf named Juthwara."
Mariel was instantly excited. "You mean Juthwara, the leader of the Jubilee Guild, the resistance within Kakon?"
"Yes, yes, my child. But it is unwise to say these names so loudly. Speak softly."
Mariel lowered her voice. "I'm sorry, but I didn't know you knew of him."
Grandmother smiled again, gently. "Does not everyone?" she whispered. "Many have heard, but few really know. You see, I was a member of the Jubilee Guild in my younger days."
"Really?"
"Shhhh--sh, yes, Mariel. That was forty-five years ago, when it was a very new development. But as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted--"
"I'm sorry."
"Yes, dear; as I was saying, Juthwara alone among all the crowd remembered Abba and that He would help us, and he resisted Ryoo's spell of apathy. Juthwara prayed for our captive Peoples and some began to wake. You've noticed, though, that some didn't wake? We see them still today, and they are truly to be pitied, for they are most likely to be chosen for castle duty, and nearness to Ryoo only binds them further in her enslavement."
Mariel nodded. Of course she knew. She had seen them in the castle, poor souls without heart or courage, fearful and uncaring. It was truly pathetic, but nearly all the servants in the castle were so. It was considered highly unusual that Mariel had ever been chosen for castle duty. She knew it had something to do with Abba's plan, just like her invisibility in the tower room only a few days ago.
"…taught the old tales," her grandma was saying.
"I'm sorry Grandmother, what did you say?"
"Those that had been released from the spell Juthwara gathered together and taught the old tales. The ones I've told you, dear, about our King and Kataphage and Hosiotos. Many scoffed, and those wandered off and quickly fell under the spell again. Some stayed, and grew in faith, but they were the minority. I was among those few, dear, and I was only a few years older than you are. Juthwara said it was childlike faith in Abba that protected us from Ryoo. It must be true, because few in our number were older than twenty years, and most of those were Elves. Some children, as they grew, lost their faith and were so bound to that wicked queen again.
"What keeps a person from being like the castle servants?" Mariel asked. "Many of us are not so bad."
"There are several reasons, dear. Perhaps it is neglect on the part of Ryoo. Or the prayers of the believers may prevent the bondage of some. Or Abba may protect them for His own reasons. But even those who are not Sleepwalkers may be in bondage, Mariel. Ryoo's spell binds the heart and mind to her own purposes, much as Kataphage wishes to enslave all Peoples, in all places. True freedom, true happiness, comes from complete surrender to the High King's will.
"But still, all sin calls for the death penalty, and it must be paid. It has been prophesied that El Shaddai will send His own Son, to die, to save us all. We must depend on that promise and believe that it is true."
Mariel studied her sandals, which lay beside her on the floor. For a long moment there was silence between the two confidants. Then Mariel raised her head looked her grandmother straight in the eyes.
"Grandmother," she said softly. "I believe."
And the servants of El Shaddai danced for joyous victory.
If Mariel's grandmother had had the strength, she would have done the cha-cha down the muddy street yelling, "Yes! Yes! Yes!"
Instead she smiled at her granddaughter and started to cry. I wish I could describe to you what a blessing it is it to be in Abba's service. It is incredible!
Meanwhile, back at Maychoria Castle, it was early afternoon. Cheryl had slept straight through three long hours, and had a disconcerting dream.
She wandered through the castle, looking and looking for something she could not name. She stepped over sleeper after sleeper, their snores mingling with the distant sobbing of Prince Tirzah.
At last she came to a room filled with blinding golden light. Almost against her will she went in, shading her eyes with a hand. Immediately the light throbbed around her and collapsed in on itself, coalescing into a huge orange cat.
Then she woke.
Less than ten minutes later, Cheryl was walking swiftly down the hall with Ralph and Arim. The two boys had been waiting by her bed when she woke, and had quickly brought her up to speed. No boats had been found, and no one knew what was going on. Viara was hearing voices, but not words, and Emrey still had the feeling something bad was going to happen. And Tirzah was still crying and uttering despairing ejaculations.
"Lenny looks uneasy too," Ralph said cheerily as they walked. "But he's always been a worrywart."
"Ralph!" Cheryl exclaimed reproachfully.
"Well, he is," Ralph answered defensively. "Anyway, Faela says we should stop trusting ourselves and look to Abba for help. I think that's a good idea."
Some things never change, Cheryl thought. Faela is always wise, and Ralph is always cheerful. And Lenny will always be a pessimist. She didn't dare voice her thoughts, however.
Ralph grabbed her arm and steered her into another room. The others were waiting there.
Faela looked up with a smile. "Are you feeling better?" she asked in her grandmotherly voice.
Cheryl realized that she felt wonderfully rested, and said so. "I'm ready to climb mountains and swim creeks!" she finished enthusiastically.
Lenny looked alarmed. "I hope we won't have to do any of that!"
"Not just yet." Emrey chuckled knowingly.
Lenny was visibly relieved, but still tense.
Viara gasped. The others looked over quickly. Her eyes were closed and she was holding her head, as if listening intently to something the others could not hear.
Before anyone could move, she opened her eyes and lowered her hands. She looked directly at Cheryl, Ralph, and Lenny.
"You three, visitors from another world," she said softly. "Abba gave me a message for you. He wants you to--to--"
"To what?" Ralph cried, unable to contain his excitement.
Viara closed her eyes and shook her head. "That part of the message is lost, somehow. Perhaps I am not listening hard enough." She shook her head helplessly.
Cheryl nodded, then thought hard. "Maybe He gave me the same message," she said musingly. "Come on, Lenny and Ralph." They looked surprised, but followed her without question.
The three Terrans walked through the darkened inner halls, unguided by anyone who knew the territory. Unguided? No, but not visibly guided. Before long Cheryl's dream was reality. Snores echoed off the walls, Ralph tripped over a sleeping guard and they all watched for some indefinable something.
At last Cheryl saw a golden light shining from a side hall. "Come on!" she cried, and they hurried toward the blinding brightness. They couldn't keep their eyes open, but stumbled blindly into a room. Ralph peeked just in time to see the light waver into all the colors of the rainbow, then swirl into a vortex of diamond bright beauty, translucent pink and blue, purple, white, with the all-pervading gold shining from within. The whirlpool of colorful light sucked itself into--a cat.
"Angel!" the three children yelled in relieved joy.
But Angel looked, for the first time Cheryl could remember, stern.
"What's the matter?" Ralph asked in a suddenly subdued voice.
"Where are your weapons?" Angel said in a sternly commanding voice that didn't seem like her at all, yet suited exactly her regal, orange figure.
The siblings grabbed at their belts and sash, but nothing was there. In comical unison they looked down at their waists, and their fingers hadn't lied. Lenny's magnifying glass, Ralph's dagger, and Cheryl's sword were nowhere to be found.
"I--I don't know," Cheryl faltered.
Angel smiled gently, and the sternness fell away. "Where did you last see them?"
Lenny gasped when realization hit him. "In the throne room last night!"
In the throne room with that gray cat! The same gray cat they'd witnessed having a terrible battle with an orange cat!
Angel smiled peacefully at their worried expressions. "Luckily for you," she said as some of the sternness returned, "my good friend, Rhys the warrior, just happened to be in the area. Rhys beat the Katamobe in battle and won back maps, sword, dagger, and magnifying glass!"
Then the whirlpool of multicolored light again came into existence around the cat. Instead of disappearing it moved to the doorway and out into the hall, leaving behind the missing objects.
"Follow me." Angel's voice, ethereal and soft, echoed gently from the swirling phenomenon in the corridor.
The children quickly gathered up the lost-and-found treasures and followed the vortex of light down the hall. Angel led them through a labyrinth of halls and stairs, then passed through a closed wooden door and out of sight.
Ralph recognized the door. "This is the tunnel to the stable!"
Lenny quickly shoved it open, and they hurried after the soft-hued column. Instead of heading down the main tunnel, the whirlpool swished down a side corridor, unlit by torches as in the main thoroughfare.
Ralph hesitated. "Arim said he'd never been down that tunnel."
"Now who's the worrywart?" Lenny exulted. "Where's your faith?"
Cheryl ignored them and quickly followed the light. The boys broke off their bickering and hurried after. All this time Angel had not spoken again, but the Bryants became aware of a low, throbbing hum, like the one that came from the golden sphere on the hill back on Terra.
Cheryl soon recognized another sound mingled with the hum: the sound of running water. She quickly drew her brothers' attention to it, and all three puzzled over its significance as they sped through the tunnel, which was lit up like day from the column's radiance.
At last they came to the end of the tunnel. Something like diamonds glittered on the floor in the pale illumination, and the sound of running water was at its loudest.
"Ah," Lenny said. "An underground stream. I should have considered the possibility at a much earlier time."
"Huh?" Ralph said.
"He means he should have thought of it before," Cheryl explained.
"Oh."
Ralph, who had the sharpest eyes of the three, saw something strange. He grabbed Cheryl's arm.
"See?" he said excitedly. "See how the glitters are blocked out by three shapes? I bet they're boats!"
Angel's voice came again from the whirlpool of light. "Get in, my friends, one to a boat. Follow the light at the end of the tunnel."
Then the light winked out. But they weren't totally in the dark. A faint light shown from downstream.
Cheryl, Lenny and Ralph stepped carefully to the water's edge, stumbling on the rough surface of the cave. Following Angel's instructions, each got in one of the strangely shaped boats, finding paddles in the bottom. Their now lighthearted talk echoed off the walls of the narrow cavern as they paddled deftly toward the light. The journey had finally started.
The underground stream exited into the castle moat, and within the next fifteen minutes, the grayish-brown canoes were headed down the River Olnar. The three Bryants were very comfortable in the boats, which was fortunate, because the three Maychorians that had joined them, Emrey, Viara, and Arim, were extremely uncomfortable. But they were on their way!
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