seers

Excerpt from Ierra's Firebird

Ierra sighed as she laid the laundry out on the warm rocks to dry. It promised to be another beautiful day. Just like every day this month and the days for quite a few more months to come. Beautiful days meant that the children would laugh and run and play games on the grass. All except for her, at least.

“Just because I can’t hear them doesn’t mean I can’t have fun playing with them,” Ierra murmured, flinching at the thought of how she must sound to others. Of course, she had no idea how she actually sounded; she could only guess.

Ierra turned as a flash of bright yellow cloth caught her eye. Her foster sister, Genta, had arrived to help her lay out the clothes. Late as usual, knowing that Ierra wouldn’t complain about it to their parents. Genta helped to spread the clothes out to dry, then gave Ierra’s portion a cursory inspection.

This was too much for Ierra. “They’re laid out better than yours are,” she signed.

Genta shrugged. “You’re a year older; you’ve had more practice.” She spoke aloud, forcing Ierra to lip-read. It was hard, but Ierra had been practicing from birth, giving her a dozen years of experience. “Supper will be ready soon,” Genta said. “We need to hurry if we don’t want to be late.” She raced off in the direction of the cottage, leaving Ierra to trail behind.

Ierra was in no hurry to reach the cottage and dinner. Everyone would fault the job that she had done on the family’s mending, and complain because Genta had muddied the floor after Ierra had scrubbed it. This meant a second floor-scrubbing after Ierra had finished the dishes, and probably she would need to sweep out the bedrooms as well. Her foster parents never allowed her to forget that they had raised her from a helpless baby.

Five or six children were playing jumping games with ropes and a long pole. The sun was sinking behind the few, stunted trees surrounding the field of scrawny crops. Soon the children would have to go inside, to be fed dinner by their own loving families. Ierra gazed at the other children with barely concealed envy. She was as agile as any of them, but never invited to play. These children had so much: love, families, friends. Did they need to exclude her from their games as well?

Despite her dawdling, Ierra finally reached the cottage and slipped inside. As she had suspected, the floor was filthy and muddy. Well, it was only one more chore to deal with.

“Ierra! Where have you been! Dawdling again I see. Well, your meal must be near cold now and serves you right. I’ve left the scraps waiting in the pot for you.” Like her daughter, Ierra’s mother spoke rather than bothering to sign.

Ierra’s father stared sullenly into his food. Her mother was probably shouting again. Ierra’s father was a slow, steady worker who managed his farm methodically. In any sort of social matter, he could be counted on to be absent and he rarely spoke to anyone.

Ierra silently walked towards the abandoned kettle and her dinner. It would always be like this, no variety or surprises, simply playing the drudge for a family that kept her carefully at arms’ length. She dug her spoon into the cooling stew, ignoring whatever conversation might be happening at the table. More gushing over their perfect little Genta, she was sure. Ierra jumped as an heavy vibration shuddered through the pot under her hands. She quickly looked up at her foster mother, who had banged the pot with her broomstick to attract Ierra’s attention. She noticed her father and sister wincing at the table. At least she was spared the presence of some sounds. Ierra’s mother snatched her shoulder and twisted her around until she gazed at her mother’s face.

“Stupid half-wit! You’re more trouble than you’re worth, especially to get your attention. Your sister forgot her new hairbrush outside. You’re to go find it.”

“But it’s dark out! The harpies and--“

“The harpies won’t bother you if you move along, instead of dawdling as you always do.”

Ierra desperately wanted tell her to send Genta out; she had chores to do after all. But last time she’d suggested such a thing, her foster-mother had slapped her and thrown her across the room before ordering her out. She gulped down a few hasty bites of stew, pulled on her patched cloak (a cast-off of her sister’s, of course) and left the shelter of the warm little cottage.

There was no need to ask where Genta might’ve dropped it. The expensive brush and mirror set had come from far to the East, and was frightfully expensive. Genta had been busy showing it off to the other children and drinking in their envious remarks, as she did with every new gift that she received. Most of the children played in the meadow, where the plants were too short-cropped to interest grazing animals. Very well, she ought to be back home in less than an hour.

Once she reached the field came this difficult part. She scoured the immense field over and over, searching for a tiny hairbrush. Had Genta lost the mirror as well? If it caught the faint thread of moonlight, she might be able to locate it. The largest moon slept now, only its two sisters were lit tonight. Ierra shuddered under the dim, cloudy sky. Dangerous beasts came out at night, and indoors, by a fire was far safer than an abandoned field.

Finally, in what might’ve been her tenth search of the field, she felt something hard under her foot. She dropped to her knees, fumbling with her hands in the near-darkness. The hairbrush lay there, cracked neatly in half.

Had she done that? She had been walking carefully, trying not to miss anything, but still! Ierra examined the brush as well as she could. It was not snapped in half, but rather crushed, as if someone had beaten it repeatedly against a rock. Not her doing. Apparently the village children had tired of Genta’s bragging and taught her a lesson. Ierra clenched her teeth as she realized Genta’s clumsy plotting. She must’ve left the ruined brush behind on purpose. Now when Ierra brought it home it would appear that she had broken it. Her foster mother would ignore all evidence to the contrary and probably beat her for clumsiness.

Ierra sat there, trying to think of a way out of her predicament. Suddenly, she noticed something overhead, a dark shadow against the clouded moons. She stared upwards, the brush instantly forgotten. The shadow was large, with great, sweeping wings. Ierra dropped the broken brush and leaped to her feet, ready to run for her life.

The gray-robed banshee soared out of the clouds, swooping down on Ierra’s position. Ierra dashed across the field, terrified. Banshees were far worse than harpies, for banshees could instill mortals with such great fear that they would drop dead where they stood, without so much as a mark on their bodies. She risked a tiny glance behind her to see how close the monster had come. It flew, without any sort of wings (she had been wrong, all she had seen was the gray cape). It looked like a woman, except for the dead, sickly-pale face. The banshee opened its mouth and screamed a silent scream against the night sky. Ierra shivered and ran even faster. The banshee couldn’t fly underwater. If she could dive into the river, she would be safe. To be sure, it was nearly autumn and the river would be very cold, but she couldn’t let the banshee catch her.

She banshee swooped closer now; Ierra could almost feel the cold rush of air against the back of her neck. The river was almost there…almost.

The moment she saw a hint of blue, she dove into the rippling water without a moment’s hesitation. After she could hold her breath no longer, she bobbed to the surface, gulping in air, and frantically searching for the banshee. It floated above her, shrieking more silent cries and circling over the river. Ierra ducked underwater, resolved to wait the monster out.

Her third check revealed that the monster had finally given up. She lifted her head completely out of the water and swam there, searching for a safe place to climb out.

The river had a strong current, and while Ierra had swam underwater, the river had dragged her quite a bit downstream. Now both banks of the river were piled with steep boulders. Ierra snatched at them as the water dragged her further along, but they were too smooth and her fingers slid off of them, cold and sore. She had been too panicked before to notice the river’s temperature, but now she realized that she was shivering uncontrollably in the near-icy water. She had to get out, soon.

A large pool of white foam ahead alerted her to bigger problems. The current had carried her much farther than she’d realized. She was nearly at the immense waterfall that plummeted off the side of the mountain, down to the valley below. Ierra scrambled for the rocks more frantically than before, but gained only cuts and bruises for her pains. The edge of the mountain was nearer now, a cliff that led straight down, with nothing to break her fall.

There, that boulder was a bit lower than the others! Ierra leaped for it, ignoring the pan in her side when she banged up against it. She dragged herself onto the rock, inch by inch, more through determination than through actual handholds. Fingers so numb with cold that she couldn’t feel the scrapes, she hauled herself farther, wincing at the icy breeze invading her damp clothing. She was almost completely out of the water now, just a few more hand holds. Suddenly, she brushed up against a slippery patch, too wet and smooth to hold onto. Before she could do anything at all, Ierra found herself hurtling back into the stream!

She landed hard, splashing into the water so fast that she took far too many precious seconds scrambling for the surface. By the time her head broke the surface, it was too late. She was heading straight for the waterfall. Ierra struggled against the current, but it was far too strong. Choking and gasping, her strength stolen by the icy water, Ierra fell into the waterfall and down the side of the cliff.

***

Ierra lay panting on the bank of the river, choking and coughing as she struggled to force air into her lungs. She had been lucky enough to miss the sharp rocks when she fell, and had found herself in a freezing cold little pool. Only sand and dirt lined its edges, and she had dragged herself to the water’s edge, battered, bruised, yet miraculously still alive.

Much as she would’ve liked to lie there forever, Ierra realized that she was shivering furiously and needed to warm herself. Worse yet, she was at the bottom of the mountain, with no way to return to her home. Stories of savages and monsters living in the valley intruded on Ierra’s memory. Worse yet, there was a group of “mindshredders” that could tear the thoughts from a person’s head and leave them a brainless husk. Where could she go?

Somewhere to the South lived the Feral Elves, a brutal, savage race that her ancestors had parted from the found their own tribe. The Sylvan Elves lived to the North. But even if Ierra wished to go to them, she needed shelter now, and they were surely many days’ travel. Ierra pulled herself to hands and knees, then finally forced herself to stand, clinging to a tree for support.

She dragged herself a few steps, then sank to her knees to catch her breath. All her bruises seemed to throb at once and exhaustion swarmed over her like a wave. With a last, feeble attempt to stay conscious, Ierra drifted into darkness.

***

Somewhere in this haze of unawareness were the sensations of someone rubbing at her body with blankets, wonderful clean, dry blankets. A cup pressed her lips and she swallowed something warm and filling, choking it down in greedy gulps. She felt a lovely warmth spread inside her, traveling from her throat to her stomach, then gradually spreading over her body. As the warmth grew she felt safe and sleepy, until she finally couldn’t resist the seductive exhaustion that washed over her. From somewhere outside her came the thought that everything would be all right now, and that she would be taken care of. It was a lovely dream, one she felt unwilling to wake up from. With a soft little sigh of contentment, Ierra drifted further into sleep.

The next thing she knew, Ierra woke somewhere bright and sunny. Even against her closed eyelids, she could feel the soft, red warmth. The pain was muted now; there was a steady ache but no stabs of agony coursing through her. Finally she summoned the strength to open her eyes.

She lay in a smooth walled wooden hut as unlike her mountain cottage as she could imagine. Rather than annoying drafts of icy air drifting through half-closed chinks in the rough logs, a single round window allowed sunlight into the room. It was long past morning; she must’ve been asleep for a long time. For a moment Ierra wondered if she were still dreaming, but finally decided that she was too tired and sore to be anything but awake. There were a few soft hangings on the walls; soothing landscapes or swirls of meaningless color n fluffy pastel shades. She lay on a soft pad on the floor that was far more comfortable than her narrow, wooden bed at home. Someone had dressed her in a soft, dark blue gown and wrapped a pile of thick blankets around her. Ierra tugged them a bit closer, grateful for the warmth.

Ierra looked up to see a tall, olive skinned woman wearing a sky blue shapeless gown entering the room through its single open archway. Her hair was bound up on her head and she wore thin white bracelets on her arms. She came and knelt down beside the mat.

“And how is the seeker feeling?”

Ierra bolted upright, ignoring the complaints of her bruises. “I heard you,” she whispered. A blaze of what felt like fire burned through her mind at the sensation, and she automatically cupped hands over her ears. Was this what it felt like to hear? So loud, and so painful?

The woman smiled a warm, kind smile. Only then did Ierra realize that the woman had not moved her lips to speak. She reached out and gently eased Ierra’s hands off of her ears. “My people speak mind to mind, and not with our lips. It is purer to speak with thoughts, and cannot lead to lies and misunderstandings. The sensation is unfamiliar to you, but should become more natural with time.”

“Can- can you understand me?”

“Yes, seeker, we can speak and hear as others can.”

“Oh.” Ierra glanced down at her folded hands. “I can’t.”

“You, like everyone else in the world, have your own destiny to follow. You are the way that you are so that you can complete it. For a time, we may be able to help you with your path.”

“Thank you. Why do you call me seeker?” Hearing the woman’s voice in her head was slowly growing less strange. The pain was gone and the voice had quieted a bit.

‘Everyone who comes to our valley seeks something. And often we can help them to find it.”

“Oh. Er, now that you bring it up, where am I?”

“You are in the Valley of the Mists. And where did your path start from?”

‘I’ve lived all my life on the mountain. A banshee chased me and I fell in the river. Then I fell down the waterfall.”

The seer blinked. “Seeker, you are quite lucky to be alive. I see that fate has meant more for you than a life shut up on your mountaintop. But why would banshees trouble you, an elf? Doesn’t your compact with Sidaria protect you both?”

“No, only the pure elves are under Sidaria’s protection,” Ierra said with a faint touch of envy. As a younger child she’d often dreamed of having the great sorceress come to her rescue. “When the Compact was formed, a group of elves didn’t want to join it so they fled to the South.”

“Some call them the Feral Elves, do they not?”

“Yes. I don’t know very much about them. My people split off from them, since we wished a gentler life, and began to miss the old ways. But the elves wouldn’t take us back; they said that we were corrupted and had thrown away our chance to follow Sidaria. So we set up our own village on the crater of a dead volcano, halfway between the Feral Elves and the Purebreds.

“You explain well. But now we have had enough questioning. It is time for food and more sleep to help you get well. Then we will see what we can do to help.”

She stood, in one graceful motion, and left the room for a moment. She returned carrying a tray of fruit, bread, and an odd golden porridge. Ierra gulped down the food, barely stopping to wash it down with a cup of something hot and sour tasting. Everything tasted wonderful and wholesome, although it was simple fare. She had no idea how much time had elapsed since her few bites of cooling stew, but it had been far too long.

Finally she was done, and the woman removed the tray. “Rest now, seeker,” the voice said in her head with a soft mental caress. “There will be time for everything.” And Ierra fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

When she awoke, the light streaming through the window had changed. It was low in the East now; she must have slept through the afternoon and night into a full new day. Ierra climbed to her feet cautiously and was relieved to find that she was still in one piece. Her bruises had healed far more quickly than she would’ve expected in a single night, although she still felt slightly chilled.

A sky blue robe like the one that the woman had worn lay folded beside the bed. To Ierra’s relief, a thick shawl of the same color lay beside it. She washed her face in a basin of water that sat on a low table, the only piece of furniture in the room, other than the mat. Beside it lay more plain food, fruit and cheese which she gobbled down, feeling just as hungry as she had the last time that she awoke. Then she slipped into the unfamiliar clothing and left through the room’s archway.

The sun shone brightly outside, reflecting off of the domed little white buildings that looked like snowballs all in a circle. In the middle of the strange village, a group of people sat on the ground in a circle, all dressed in identical blue robes. Ierra approached slowly, unsure of her welcome from so many strangers.

‘The seeker is here!’ the woman from the day before said. Suddenly Ierra realized that they had never exchanged names.

‘Come, child, sit and join us,’ a man called.

Ierra shyly walked over to the circle and sat in the spot the people made for her. Now that she was part of the circle, she could see what everyone was staring at in the circle’s center.

It was a lizard. A tiny, dark pink lizard with little bright blue spots. It napped on a rock, enjoying the warm sunshine. And everyone in the circle stared at it as if it was the most miraculous thing that they had ever seen. Ierra had no idea what they all found so wonderful, but she sat quietly and watched as well, not wanting to appear rude.

After what might have been hours, the lizard opened black, beady eyes, stretched, and climbed off the rock on delicate little legs. It walked towards two of the villagers, who instantly parted to allow it passage out of the circle. No one moved any further, but every pair of eyes fastened itself on the lizard as it crept through the village, until it had vanished into the low bushes surrounding the tiny encampment. Not a word that Ierra could see had been spoken or thought during this entire process.

When not even the lizard’s tail could be seen, two of the group left the circle and returned with trays of foods. This seemed to be the signal for everyone to pass the food around and speak quietly from mind to mind. To Ierra’s amazement, she could “hear” every bit of conversation, even the words not directed at her. For the first time, her disability did not separate her from everyone else. She found that she could concentrate on one conversation, or allow them all to flow through her as a pleasant mental buzz.

‘Aren’t you hungry, Seeker?’ Ierra jumped at the familiar mind voice. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.’

‘I’m still getting used to this,” Ierra explained, trying to soften her voice so she wouldn’t interrupt the mental conversations.

‘Well, as you accustom yourself, you should eat. Your strength is still returning.’

Ierra accepted that platter of food and collected several interesting tidbits. Everyone around them ate with their hands, without use of plates or napkins. After hesitating for a moment, Ierra imitated them. “May I ask a question?”

A ripple of amusement surrounded the mental voice. ‘Of course.’

“What was that lizard that everyone was watching? Were you talking to it?”

‘The octagin-k’lal speaks to no one. We watch them whenever they appear in our village. The fact that one has come to greet our new Seeker is a sign of great favor. They rarely appear.”

“But, if you please, what’s so important about them?”

‘They are a creature who is perfectly in balance with itself and with nature. It takes nothing not freely given, wanders where it chooses, does whatever it wishes. Yet the octagin-k’lal does nothing to disrupt nature, or the echoes of past and future. Our people try to imitate them, existing in all times but affecting none.’

“Why don’t you want to affect anything?” Ierra asked, helping herself to another round, squishy fruit. It had an odd sweet-spicy flavor, foreign but quite pleasant.

‘We strive to live in balance with all life, interfering in nothing that is not our place. After all, who can judge what effects our actions may have? The future comes in glimpses and teasings, while studying the past proves the foolhardiness of trying to change others’ natures. So we study and we contemplate. And we imitate the octagin-k’lal to the best of our skills.’

To Ierra, it had looked like a colorful, but not especially intelligent lizard. However, she saw no reason to say so. “I never asked your name,” she said. ‘I’m Ierra.”

‘We do not need names, for we are all part of the community and the universe, without any need to differentiate.’

“Oh.”

‘However you do not seem a person who passively allows the universe to pass by. Tonight, I think, we will have a seeking, and determine what your destiny is to be.’

“How can you tell that?”

‘You will understand when you see it. For now, you should rest and explore the village, until the time is right. Our archivist would be quite pleased to speak with you, and learn of other lands.’

“The only land I know of is the one that I came from, and it’s very close. Surely you don’t need me to tell you of it. Someone must’ve traveled there.”

‘We do not travel, although we welcome those who do, and learn what we can from them while they stay.’

“Why? Does travel mean interfering in the world?”

‘In a sense. Outside this valley, such interference is almost unavoidable. But the world outside is distracting and it is our goal to shield ourselves from all distractions, so as to better contemplate the universe. Now, come, let me introduce you to the archivist.’

Ierra spent the rest of the day describing the tiniest, most inconsequential aspects of daily life. The archivist was a very thin, short man who looked as if he would blow away if Ierra breathed too hard. He had a wispy brown beard, and an indescribable way of making Aleril feel at ease. Perhaps it was that she finally found herself on familiar ground, as she spoke about her people. The archivist wanted to know what they ate, wore, and desired most. He asked how Ierra’s people ate dinner and how they conducted a wedding. Ierra did her best to answer the trivial questions.

Finally, the sun began to set and the archivist led her to the edge of the village. ‘Come, seeker. The seer’s hut is this way, outside of the village.’

“A seer? He or she can predict the future?”

‘Yes, in fact we all can. But only once or twice each generation is a person born who can read it accurately, all of the time. Those children become apprenticed to the seer, and take the seer’s place in time.’

“But why are you taking me there?”

‘You are lost; you do not know your place in the world or your destiny. The seer will help you to find these.”

Ierra shivered. “I’m not sure that I want to know my future.”

The archivist appeared genuinely puzzled. ‘How can we help you, or you help yourself, if you do not know where you’re going?’

“How can I follow my dreams if my life’s planned out for me,” Ierra responded.

The archivist smiled. ‘Your dreams will not be in jeopardy, I promise. This ceremony only seeks to give you a path to follow.’

The seer’s hut looked the same as the others, only slightly bigger. A garden of aromatic herbs surrounded three sides of the white dome. The woman who had cared for Ierra earlier stood in the open archway that made up the building’s entrance. ‘Come in, seeker,’ she said. ‘The seer awaits you.”

A pair of candles lit the darkening room, and a pot of incense scented the place with spicy herbs. A woman knelt by the incense pot, dressed in a very pale blue far lighter than that of the other seers. Her long, black hair streamed down her back and past her waist. Wide dark eyes peered out of a brown face up at Ierra. Between the pale robe, and dark skin with bright teeth gleaming against it, the woman faded away into the shadows like a ghost. She was young, only a few years older than Ierra and she smiled at her guests as they knelt opposite her,

‘So here is our new seeker.’ This mind-voice was slightly louder, and somehow more resonant than any of the others had been. ‘Greetings. There is much that we have not told you, that you must learn, and quickly. Have your injuries healed?’

Ierra nodded. “I’m all right, thank you.”

‘My people choose not to interfere with the world, but I fear that a time of change has come upon us.’

“What do you mean?”

‘The volcano to the South spits and burns with flame. Within two weeks it will erupt and cover our valley, blotting it from the world forever.’

“That’s terrible! But two weeks will give you enough time. You need to leave the valley before that happens.”

‘Our souls are rooted here, in our beloved valley of shadows. The feral elves live nearby and are very unpredictable and vicious. They might kill us or harm us if we left the valley’s protection. They will not listen to our messages, and have not heeded the volcano’s warnings. You see, every volcano in the area, even those dormant for centuries, are showing signs of life. They will destroy every living creature in their path. Many races live here, some of whom will never leave despite our warnings. They will die just as we will. For we would never be willing to leave the octagin-k’lal, who depend on us to safeguard them.’

“They’re lizards. Your lives are more important.”

‘They are lizards to you. To us they are representations of perfection in the galaxy.’

‘What are you going to do?’

‘There is a single chance. If a seeker were to find the Gem of Earth, we could control the volcano and neither of our peoples would die.’

“Isn’t the Gem of Earth just a story?”

‘Indeed, no. You have heard of it then?’

“I know that Evric the mage was one of the few dwarves to use a single gem as his magical focus. Some say it was a ruby and others, a black diamond. After he died, someone discovered that all of the mage’s powers still remained inside the gem. If anyone, especially another mage, held it and commanded the earth, the earth would obey. People could summon earthquakes, grow hills, and tear gashes in the countryside. Finally a mage tried a spell too great and powerful for him to accomplish, and the earth swallowed his whole.”

‘And the gem with it,’ the seer murmured. ‘Yet, if we could find it again, we could still the volcano and save my people and the feral elves as well.’

“Didn’t the earth swallow it?”

‘Perhaps only for a time. I’ve seen in my visions that the gem will rise again, and now is the time that we most need it. Will you seek the gem for us?’

“You want me to do it?”

‘The gem is our last hope, and none of my people will leave the valley. Many more lives than ours are at stake. You are the only one who can find it and bring it to us.’ The seer seemed to notice Ierra’s hesitation. ‘You need not go alone.’

“But you said none of your people would go with me.”

‘You shall have a guide, nonetheless. Will you let me read your future? You may be quite surprised.’

“All right.”

‘My friend,’ the seer said to Ierra’s companion. ‘You will keep watch while we trance?’ The woman nodded. The seer picked up a clay cup and held it out to Ierra. ‘Drink. It will light your path and bring our minds closer together.’ Ierra took a tiny sip. The liquid was warm and sticky-sweet.

The room blurred and seemed to fade away. The seer and her mind-voice were the only things left. ‘You have a great journey ahead,” the seer said. “Happiness and peace await you, but you are not the sort to seek them until you have faced harder tasks. You will travel from rivers of fire and water up to the skies themselves. A gift burns in you child, one you may fear but would be wise to accept. The power is locked inside of you; it will free itself in time.’

The seer paused and the room slowly drifted back into existence. ‘Those here in the Valley of the Mists can understand you, seeker, But for others, you would do well to have a translator and a guide, one who can help you find your path. There is a great adventure in store for you.’

‘What great adventure? And why is this place called the Valley of the Mists? It’s been sunny the past few days.”

‘The sunshine comes and goes, but clouds of mist always return. Yet we strain to pierce the mists of ignorance with knowledge and understanding, even while the mists blanket and protect us. Now come, seeker, you need a restful night of sleep. In the morning, your guide will be ready.’

“What’s this guide like? I don’t want to offend you, but I’d rather not have one of those colored lizards.”

The seer smiled. ‘No fear of that, although your guide will be an animal. He is the most learned creature in the valley, although he can be rather…temperamental.’ Ierra wasn’t sure she liked this idea.

Ierra spent the night at the seer’s cottage, sleeping on a another soft pallet. In the morning, her friend brought her a strong canvas bag with food and supplies, as well as her old clothes which had been neatly mended. Ierra nibbled at her breakfast. What sort of creature would she be journeying with?

The seer led Ierra into the inner room of the cottage, and gestured for her to kneel in front of a large, black chest. It was composed of heavy wood, with no latch or metal trim. Ierra sat in front of it and very cautiously opened the lid.

‘Ssunlight! Who disturbss my rest?’ The odd, slurred “voice” was actually a mind voice, just like everyone else’s. Ierra shrank back from the chest, uncertain what she would find inside.

‘Amphisbaena, awake! Once again a mortal requires your services as guide and protector. Teach her wisdom and lead her along her path.”

‘Another one!’ moaned the creature in the box. ‘It’s only days ssince I guided the last, opinionated, brainless, destined for a pigssty sseeker. Can’t you find ssomeone elsse?’

‘It was years, not days, and this child needs your skills. I assure you, she is destined for true greatness.’

‘You always ssay that,’ the creature said. ‘But while you ssit here pondering the universse, I’m sstuck with all the work.’

“It’s really all right,” Ierra said. “No need for me to be any trouble. I’ll be fine on my own.”

‘Now look,’ the seeker said. ‘You’ll frighten the child away. Now come out, you obnoxious creature, and do your duty. Oh!’ She turned to Ierra. ‘You’re not afraid of snakes?’ Ierra shook her head.

The creature slithered out of the box, first a brown and white patterned head with unsnakelike, shining red eyes. The long, matching body crept out after it. “Why is the snake named Amphisbaena?” Ierra asked, not sure whether to address the seer or the snake. “That’s a very long name.”

‘No, he is an amphisbaena, not a snake,’ the seer said.

“What’s the difference?” Ierra asked.

‘The head, you ssilly girl,’ the amphisbaena said.

“The head?” The slender, snakey head looked normal to her.

‘No, no, the other head.’ The snake’s tail finally emerged from the chest. But instead of a plain, pointed tip, the end of the snake was actually another head, the same as the front one except for the markings. The eyes were the same erie, burning red.

She stared at the odd creature. “You have two heads?”

‘Just ass you have two armss, and I’m sure you find them more usseful than one. Sso, we may as well leave, if you’re going on a marvelouss quesst or ssomething. The ssooner we go, the ssooner I’m back in my warm box. I’ll expect you to light a fire each night.’

“Of- of course,” Ierra managed. She looked at the amphisbaena, and he looked back.

‘Well, what are you waiting for?’

“What do you mean?”

‘Pick me up!’ the amphisbaena demanded. Ierra leaned over and gingerly scooped the snake in her two hands, then held him close as she would a kitten or a baby. He felt dry and smooth and she could feel the powerful body. He churned through her hands, strong muscles propelling her slender body. ‘Not like that, ssilly child!’ The amphisbaena slithered up her arm to crawl up to her shoulder. Ierra held the creature loosely in her hands, allowing him to untangle as he wished. She glanced quickly up at the seer for reassurance. Ierra didn’t fear snakes, but if this one meant her harm, it was traveling to a more and more threatening position.

The amphisbaena finally curled around her shoulders, with both of the heads nestled against the back of her neck, behind her long, tangled hair. ‘You’re warm. Quite nice. Ready to leave?’

“I- I suppose.”

‘What’s the trouble, ssmall one? I won’t bite.’

“I’m not sure where I should go. If the Gem of Earth exists, it must be miles beneath the earth.”

‘That’ss why I come, as a guide. Now ssay your goodbyes, and we’ll leave.’

Then they continued their travels, to the tree to the top of the world.

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