Flash Fiction # 531 -- The Long Way Home/30

 Rory moved up the steps, Zorian on one side and Andora on the other.  Prince Palkin walked between the two generals and didn't look thrilled to be on show right now.  Rory suspected this was not the place Palkin wanted to be.  Neither did he.

And more so when each step upward to the next brought him the conviction that there was magic in that next bailey.  A considerable amount of it.

Rory looked at Zorian, who gave a quick nod.  Then he turned to Andorra, and she also gave him a nod.

"There is magic in the area ahead of us," Rory said and drew the attention from everyone.

"Yes, there is," she said with a quick nod. "We're not allowed to tell anyone, but if you sense it, we're not to deny the existence. I can't tell you anymore because I know nothing more about it than that it exists."

"Is it dangerous?" Rory asked. "I can't feel any proper sense out of it."

"I think it could be dangerous, but not to anyone who comes as a friend. If any of you have doubts – –"

No one even slowed, although Rory considered turning around and going ... home?  He had been trying to get home since this trouble started, and he first heard the king had died.

Why the man had died was still the question.  If he trusted Palkin's take on the situation and that Prince Kellic didn't want to be king, it fit in some ways and not in others.  People were like that, though.

And this was not the time to worry about that part of the problem.  The feel of magic made his skin tingle as they climbed up the steps.  He wasn't up to this kind of problem.  

One last step and through the stone portal.

Rory and Zorian spun to the right, both with hands raised.  Something nebulous moved there, a cloud of magic that spun and swirled and moved out in front of them.  Rory could tell that only he and Zorian could see and sense it.

"Stay still!" Zorian ordered.  The others listened to him while he and Rory made their way to the front of the procession and faced the magic quickly took the form of a tall woman with long black hair and a dress of sky-blue and golden threads.

Rory heard the others make sounds of surprise and could see the woman where they hadn't seen the cloud of magic.

The woman gave a bow of her head.  "You two are powerful.  Only one other has ever done more than sense the surrounding magic when they enter my bailey.  And does that make you, both men, enemies?"

"You know that already, Lady Aien," Zorian answered with a bow of his head.

"I feared you had forgotten me, Zorian."

"Never."

Lady Aien winced at that single word, and Rory wondered what sort of history hid in so simple an answer.  He also wondered if he had ever heard of a mage named Aien.  The name sounded familiar, but no one of such power --

No human.

His breath caught, and he bowed his head in shocked surprise.  Goddess.  The one who looked over the lands of Schiwen.  A goddess of such power that none of the others dare question her claim over the matriarchy and the lands they conquered in her name --

Andora had gone to her knees.  So did General Junal and all the others from Schiwen.  Then the rest of them knelt, except for Zorian.  

Was there a challenge in that stance?  Rory wanted to pull his friend down, but the look on Aien's face did not indicate trouble.  He suspected amusement and thought the same when he looked at Zorian.

Rory was not sure they had time for this behavior.  Lady Aien must have thought the same.  She lifted her head and looked out over the stunned and still silent group.

"This is my place; for now, I hold the line here," she said.  "This is where my rule began.  Only those whom I trust pass on.  This group may see the Queens and pass again on their way out, as long as they do no harm."

Queens?

"There is another mage who may yet follow us," Zorian said.  "You would not let him pass here, but I ask that you protect those who might come into his path.  You know his name."

"Pyrida," she said, and Rory feared she was surprised.  He never liked seeing beings of power shocked by some news, especially when he knelt before them.

Zorian gave a bow of his head and a slight grimace.  "He hunts for Rory and me, though I doubt he realizes all the danger we are to him."

Rory would have rather not heard him mentioned by name. Lady Aien looked his way, her face so devoid of emotion that it seemed unreal.  She might have been an especially well-painted statue.

Now that he was past some of his shock, Rory wanted to ask many other things.  Instead, he remained silent as the goddess became ephemeral again.  Zorian helped him back to his feet.  His legs almost gave out, but he willed himself to stay standing.  

"Zorian --" he began.

The larger man shook his head. "Don't ask.  We don't want to muddy those waters, or resurrect those ghosts, right now.  Especially those ghosts."

That sounded dire.  He didn't like ghosts and tried his best to avoid waking them. Rory filed about a hundred questions into the back of his mind and waited as Prince Palkin and the two generals again took their places at the front of the group.  Rory thought they looked uncertain about that position.

Andora moved to walk beside Rory.

"Queens?" Rory asked.

"I do not know.  I begin to think I know nothing at all."

"Welcome to my life."