Sky Woman: Book One of The Empress Saga

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Dreams were curious things. The most bizarre events could play out in front of her, and Enfri would accept them without question. Within the world of the dream, it all made sense.

The sand was hot beneath her feet. Enfri stood in what felt like the very center of the Espalla Dunes. In every direction, she saw nothing but sand, dust, and sky. She stood firm, the song of magic in her veins.

The blood runners of Althandor called it the bloodsong. For such a storied fraternity, the blood runners were remarkably terrible at naming things. Everything was scarlet or sanguine or simply bloody with them. Enfri would have called this...

Come to think of it, she would have called it the bloodsong, too. It was an accurate description for harmonious ether resonating with every beat of the heart. It was intoxicating, and Enfri's bloodsong cried out with apotheosis.

Calling forth an apotheosis was not an easy feat. It required training, precision, and above all, power to work magic strong enough to summon it. She was fortunate that this apotheosis wasn't born of casting a spell, thereby draining her of ether, but from releasing a locked spell already in place. The creatures that pursued her could be given no further advantage over her. She could see them now.

Three black hounds appeared over the northern horizon. Still miles in the distance, Enfri's keen eyes could see them as if they stood only a pace away.

The beast in the center was the largest. He was a great, black mastiff, his fur fading to gray about his ears and muzzle. Strong and courageous, an experienced hunter. The other two were little older than puppies, yet still tenacious and fierce. Their teeth had drawn blood before. This wasn't their first hunt, and they wished to prove themselves to their elder. One had a long snout and was missing an eye. The other had the large paws of youth and impressive fangs. The three hunting hounds followed Enfri's scent.

Enfri took to the sky to lead them on a chase. The braying of her pursuers grew far into the distance. The landscape flowed beneath her like leaves in a stream, and soon she forgot that she had ever known of the hounds or of magic. Enfri was free and had no memory of ever being otherwise.

Her feet touched upon the ground. It was cold here. Cold and white. She stood on a pinnacle of rock, blanketed in fresh snow, and surrounded by what seemed a vision of all the world. It spread before her in all directions, and even the clouds were beneath her feet.

She saw the nigh endless sands in the west and the mountains guarding the distant lands of jade. The south held frozen seas and an ice-cloaked realm of warriors and wolves, home to a red huntress that was both and neither. She caught sight of a strong young man in black armor, joyful laughter on his lips, and a dagger he didn't see was pressed to his throat. The huntress and youth spiraled towards one another, but Enfri couldn't begin to guess what would happen once their paths met, only that they would. To the north were sweltering lowlands and moors, where scattered peoples lived in fear of the encroaching south. A small voice cried out for freedom and was answered with prayers for salvation. The east held vast steppes where the grass was red as if stained with blood, where a single spear was left abandoned on a lone hillock.

Enfri became aware of the light fading. The sun was still high overhead, but it was being hidden behind clouds. No, not clouds, but mist. Enfri's high-altitude perch began to shake, and she nearly lost her balance. A rumble shook the land. Something was coming.

Around her, bursting from the ground, arose a city like no other in the world. It rose to pierce the sky, higher than the pinnacle Enfri stood upon. Great spires built of stone, metal, and magic. Shrouded in eternal mists, each tower rose to dizzying heights. Even the smallest among them was taller than mountains. Anyone who stood at their top would be unable to see their base.