SONG OF POWER

Chapter XIII: Harrow Pass

SONG OF POWER

CHAPTER XIII:  HARROW PASS

Cipher was the first to wake.  Morning sounds filtered into the room, signaling that Tyroce’s ward of silence had run its course.  The dawn was bright and warm, and the smell of wet earth drifted into his nostrils from the lawn below, utterly replacing the less savory fumes of the inn.  Birdsong filled the void left by the sleeping rowdies that frequented the establishment.  Though the Goblin’s Muff was not the most pleasant inn in the True World, at that moment it was perfect.

Maybe the moment is what makes it perfect.

Cipher’s young mind reeled with the events of the night and his silver eyes examined all three of his wives equally.  Last night, their third night, an unbreakable bond had been forged by their shared passion—the four were one.

“Thank you, Lillicule, for heaping your blessings upon me,” he whispered the words, prayer coming awkwardly to his lips as they always did—though this morning his heart was fully committed to giving thanks to the Risen Goddess of Love.

The women awoke without the awkwardness of the previous nights.  Husband and wives donned gaudy gypsy fashion culled from the magical chest Tyroce conjured.  Tyroce’s wagon, now doubled in size and pulled by a team of oxen, waited in the broad street that fronted the Goblin’s Muff.  Her shaggy-haired donkey was loaded with heavy packs and tethered to walk behind the wagon.  The new wagon sported a pied cover with the words “The Midnight’s Light” boldly displayed on each side.

“I thought she said nomagic,” Ninthalsaya whispered conspiratorially to Rowena.

“Though it’s packed with supplies, there is room enough for the four of us within,” Tyroce said, ignoring her half-sidhe wife’s remark.  “And there is food.” Three stomachs grumbled as one; the Covey had decided to pass on the questionable fare in the Goblin’s Muff. 

Ninthalsaya walked forward a few paces ahead of the ensorcelled wagon, where she fell to her knees and rooted her fingers in the soil, digging her dainty digits with their pointed nails into the hard-packed road with ease.  Ninthalsaya’s voice carried over the group as she raised it in an imploration to nature:

“Gaia, may the Earth be ever firm beneath our feet

May the Air we breathe be pure,

May Water deny us our thirst,

And may the sun’s Flame neither scorch nor scorn us.

“May the Shade hide us and its reverse, guide us,

May we be fit and full of Verve,

And may Time not move faster than we are able.

Once Ninthalsaya had beseeched the favor of Gaia the once-goddess, she stood and brushed the dirt from her fingers, the smile on her plump lips just visible behidn her diaphanous veil.  Rowena moved to her side.  The youthful human prominently displayed her platinum  holy symbol of Lillicule, the shining medallion dangling between small, perky breasts covered in multi-colored fabric.

“May it be Your will, Risen Gods, to lead us,

To direct our steps with safety and haste.

Deliver us from enemies, ambush, and hurt,

And from all maladies that trouble the True World.

Bless the work of Your faithful.

Allow Your works to be done on Gaea

Through my faithful heart,