The Heavenly Host

Jeshbella simply nodded and looked through the gateway for a few moments. “He will meet you on the veranda between your quarters,” she informed Bess.

Bess nodded her thanks and proceeded to the giant archway. She pulled her sistrum from her pocket and played the required notes. As she did this, Jeshbella sang her song, both vocally and mentally. As their small duet ended, the previously empty gateway held two large stone doors. Bess moved forward and traced an invisible inscription on them while Jeshbella mentally performed her part of the ritual as well. The two stone doors opened and Bess walked through them into New Nyjyr. She waited briefly for the doors to shut behind her and then headed down the path, where a chariot was just pulling up.

Bess stepped up into the chariot, taking a position in the rear passenger seat. She glanced at the driver, who appeared to be a young man in a silk kilt. While she had not seen him since his last reincarnation, Bess had no trouble recognizing Bakari, who had driven her through many incarnations, along with several other members of his family. “Bakari, it is good to see you. How long have you been driving in this incarnation? I haven’t seen you since your last birth, and I doubt you remember that.”

Bakari had turned to bow at Bess, and he straightened, smiling. “My mistress, you honor me with your remembrance. I turned sixteen last month, and so have rejoined the service. The work the soothsayers have accomplished since my previous reincarnation is remarkable. It only took four years for me to regain the memories of my last three incarnations. They believe that I will be able to recall my lives back to Old Nyjyr within a few more years, hopefully by my twenty-first birthday.”

Bess clapped her hands. “That’s incredible! In your previous incarnation, your memories were not at this level until your early twenties. I shall remember to thank the soothsayers for the work they’ve done to improve the process.” She looked at him with a touch of sadness. “I am so sorry we have to do it this way, but I thank you for all you and your family have gone through.”

Bakari shook his head. “No, my queen, do not thank me. It is you to whom we must all be grateful, you and all the Ennead, for all the sacrifices you’ve made to protect us.”

Bess shook her head in turn. “I must not forget how hard it is to thank you or compliment you, Bakari. I remember now; this is my most serious criticism of you.” She smiled brightly at the young man, and he returned her smile. This was a joke going back many lifetimes for Bakari.

∼

Anup was on the veranda as promised, leaning against the ivy-covered marble balustrade when Bess arrived. She could see the concern in his eyes as she approached. They gave each other short kisses on each cheek and then grasped each other’s elbows in greeting. “You’ve returned unexpectedly. pêTah is out. He’s working on the slow diplomacy we’ve settled on.”

Bess nodded; she had assumed as much. “I assumed so, but I needed to get word back while I could. There’s been a complication,” she said.

“The book being lost and playing musical owners wasn’t complicated enough?” Anup asked with a smile.

Bess shook her head. “I think we should sit down. I know you will find what I have to tell you as unsettling as I did, when I witnessed it.”

Select Pantheons with a Presence in Astlan[10]

∼

Trevin made her way deep into the depths of the palace’s underground towards one of her most private workrooms. She needed to discuss these visions of Elrose and Maelen with Elraith. She winced slightly at her own brusqueness in barging in on them as she had, but their reactions today to her mention of Bastet had gnawed at her.

Unfortunately, speaking with them about their visions had only succeeded in making things worse. Much worse. She sighed. This would likely be tricky. Those wards were quite effective at cutting off all outside contact. It was for this reason she was going deep, very deep, down to the very bedrock upon which the palace and Freehold stood.

Waving her hand to open the last of the sealed doors on her journey, she entered the cavern she needed. Technically, it was more of a cave than a cavern; it was not that large. The air pressure on the other side of the door shut it behind her, as she had willed. The room was pitch-black and absolutely silent, but she needed neither wizard sight nor light to find the small throne that had been shaped from the bedrock floor.

She sat on the throne and willed herself to relax. The stone throne, part of the bedrock itself, was rather antithetical to her own preferred element of air, but Duranor had fashioned it for her for just such situations. She only hoped the Grove’s chief geomancer and representative to the Grove of the Modgriensofarthgonosefren would not be listening in.