This is my first time doing a Blogfest. Raquel Byrnes is hosting it. She’s looking for the most “heart pumping scene” in your WIP. At the moment, she has 22 other people taking part. If you’d like to join too, head on over. As it is, I’m joining late because I’ve been having trouble with an eye infection for the last couple of weeks, which has made it hard to be on the computer for very long.
This excerpt is from a chapter in my fantasy saga “Betony.” I’m about halfway through with it at this point. Of course it’s a series, because that’s what I do best. Even as a kid I would build rambling cities out of blocks, dolls, and toy cars. They would reach from one end of the room to the other. It seems I’m still doing that. LOL
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Wishes
Queen Genevieve still had her doubts about granting Sybilla’s wish. She had consulted the Crystal again the night before and the answers had been the same. If this child was not born to Sybilla by Thodor there would be great peace for many years in the Four Lands. Then the basilisks would come, bringing total destruction. They would pick off the land of Betony first and then the rest of the Four Lands afterward. In their wake they would leave lifeless deserts. Then they would move on to another continent.
However, if this child was born, the time of great peace would never happen. Instead there would great upheaval. First in Betony, then in Tambour, and finally Loren would be caught up in it. The Fourth Land, Gallica, would be spared. But it would put itself on alert. After the conflict ended, it would seek out relationships with the other lands. Many years later, this child of Sybilla’s would rise up again, this time in defense of the Four Lands. And he would use his great power to drive the basilisks back into the sea. Genevieve didn’t know how this change of heart in Sybilla’s son would come about, but the Crystal had hinted it would be because of Etienne the dragon.
So, there would either be great peace and then ultimate destruction. Or there would be great upheaval and ultimate triumph. Genevieve had seen this kind of thing many times in her long life. Great blessings often came at a great price. And great evil could have great blessings. The trouble, of course, was that the future pictured in the Crystal was a possibility, not a certainty. If circumstances changed, the future would change as well. So this was a very dangerous decision. If the outcome had not looked so bleak, Genevieve would have refused to grant Sybilla wish. As it was, there seemed to be no choice but to take a chance on this unknown child … who was to be both a villain and a hero.
Sybilla arrived alone at the overlook near the Crystal Palace at the agreed upon time, her violet eyes set with determination.
“Etienne didn’t come with you?” Genevieve asked. She had assumed Sybilla’s dragon friend would want to be present for this. He was always so very protective of her.
“No,” Sybilla said. “He’s not happy about my doing this.”
“I can’t say I am either,” Genevieve answered. “But it seems your wish is important to the survival of the Four Lands.”
Sybilla gave the old crystal faerie a questioning look. “Is my child to be important, then?”
“Everything is intertwined.”
“Then maybe my mother will receive her wish after all.”
“What do you mean?”
Sybilla turned away. She had never told any anyone in Betony of her mother’s wish for a dynasty. It seemed particularly unwise to bring it up at this moment. Instead she chose another truth. “My mother was disappointed that I wasn’t a witch like her,” Sybilla said. “It was her great wish that I could have magical child.”
“Once again I must caution you. This isn’t like taking a few magic herbs to encourage a pregnancy. Nor is it like putting yourself into the hands of some human doctor. In both those cases, you would merely be prodding nature. The Crystal Triad, however, is powerful enough to override nature’s refusal. And in doing that there is always a price to be paid. At the very least some of your essence will be used to bring about this child. It will probably shorten your life. And there may be other sacrifices ahead for you also.”
“I’ll pay whatever’s necessary.”
“Very well,” Genevieve said. She picked up her staff and held up lengthwise in front of Sybilla. “Behold the Crystal Staff!” she commanded, “it carries out all orders.” Slowly she lowered it to the rocky ground in front of Sybilla. Then she took the crown from her head. “Behold the Crystal Crown! It signifies the one who is in control.” Genevieve placed it behind Sybilla just to her left. Then finally, she picked up the ancient crystal ball from its white woolen cloth. “And last but not least, behold the Crystal! This ball holds within it the power of the crystal faeries going back for generations.” Genevieve reverently placed the ancient crystal behind Sybilla to her right, thus putting her in the center of the Crystal Triad.
As soon as the last piece was in place, all three began to glow. The light leapt up around Sybilla and reached high into the sky above her, as if it trying to pull down the very power of the sun.
Genevieve raised her arms and said, “By my power as the wielder of the Crystal Triad, I proclaim that you Sybilla, wife of Thodor, will have a child! Nothing physical or magical will stand in your way!”
Sybilla felt a warm wind begin to whip around her. Her long black hair flew up away from her face and moved around as if it had a life of its own. A humming began. It sounded like a multitude of voices murmuring. Sybilla couldn’t make out any words, but she wondered if she were hearing the many spirits of the crystal faeries that were supposed to abide in the crystal ball. The murmurs got louder as the heat of the wind intensified. Sybilla gasped. She could see Genevieve’s mouth move as she continued her incantation. But she could no longer hear her above the murmuring.
“Enough!” Genevieve commanded, bringing her arms back to her sides.
The murmuring of the Crystal stopped immediately. And the glowing light that had been reaching for the sun settled down around Sybilla.
“Go now,” Genevieve said. “The magic of the Triad will take you to Thodor.”
Sybilla nodded and turned away. In the next moment she found herself in front of the rock that covered the entrance to Thodor’s cave. Every time she’d visited before her husband’s faerie magic had kept her from even coming close. Now, the magic melted away and the rock pulled back at her touch.
Thodor heard the rock move and came to the cave entrance armed with a spear because his magic abilities were starting to wane. He assumed he was under attack by some powerful wizard. Who else could have broken through the magic protection spells he’d cast when he was stronger? But there was no wizard. There was only his wife, glowing from head to foot with a magic Thodor assumed had somehow been given to her by Genevieve. Thodor stepped back in a panic.
Sybilla waved in the direction of the cave entrance, and the rock moved back into place. Then she raised her hand to Thodor and the spear he’d been carrying clattered to the ground, sending echoes to the large chamber behind them.
Not knowing what else to do, Thodor retreated. He ran back into his treasure cave and planted himself defensively in front of his favorite pieces. His feverish mind assumed Sybilla had come to reclaim her dowry. “Mi…ne,” he croaked. It was hard to form human words because his throat was beginning to change. The ability to speak would return only after his body grew in size and his throat developed sufficiently to allow for both speech and fire.
“Yours. Yes,” Sybilla said.
“Mi…ne,” Thodor repeated.
In the faerie fire and the glittering reflections of Thodor’s well polished treasures, Sybilla saw her husband more clearly than she’d ever seen him before. Etienne had been kind in not pointing out the irony of it all, but of course Sybilla realized it anyway. Her dowry had been stolen from two black treasure dragons. And it had been used to attract a husband whose greed had soon started him on the same road.
Gone was the dashing faerie that Sybilla had fallen in love with. Although the treasure behind Thodor was meticulously maintained and carefully placed to best advantage, he did not bother to keep himself nearly as well. His long dark hair was matted and his clothes were tattered and rank. His back was becoming humped from constant bending over his beloved treasure. His nails had grown long and sharp. Since Etienne had explained the way in which a black treasure dragon changes from its original form, Sybilla knew that if Thodor’s voice was changing, the skin at his throat was probably already showing signs of scales. He was in no way the lover who had literally swept her off her feet and danced her into marriage about a year before.
Like all treasure dragons, Thodor had begun the change by forsaking all other relationships and locking himself away in darkness with only his treasure for company. Day by day, his greed and paranoia would continue to change his outward appearance to match his inner one till it was complete.
For just a moment Sybilla considered turning back. Then she remembered her mother’s words to her, “Power is the greatest asset you can have.”
So far Sybilla had had very little power in her life. She’d been abandoned by her father. Overlooked by her mother. And pushed aside by her husband because he preferred gold and jewels over her. Etienne the dragon was the only one who had stood by her. He was very important to her, but he wasn’t enough. Sybilla thought if she had a child she would finally have the complete family she’d always longed for. And perhaps her mother would know somehow and finally be pleased with her. There would be no need of seeing Thodor again. He could complete his transformation and live in the darkness of his cave, forgotten by most people.
Sybilla approached Thodor and gently pushed back his hair. A soft growl escaped his lips. He wanted to push her away and chase her from his cave forever. But the magic of the Crystal Triad held him fast.
“I will trade you the treasure for a child,” Sybilla whispered. And she pulled her husband into her arms and shut her eyes tightly.
Copyright – Mary Anne Gruen
