Kalona’s Fall (4 page)

“Then we begin immediately,” Mother Earth said, cooling the heat that Nyx’s gaze had
been building in Kalona’s blood.

“Immediately?” Nyx said, obviously less pleased than Mother Earth.

“Oh, child.” Mother Earth put her arm around the Goddess. “Savor these first, wondrous
steps. The magick of discovery is always sweeter if it has been earned.”

Nyx brightened. “You have been right thus far. I trust you!” The Goddess turned back
to Kalona and Erebus. “I ask that you follow Mother Earth’s edicts as if they were
my own. She is my true, dear friend.” Nyx looked from them to Mother Earth. “What
is it you would have them do?”

“There are to be three tasks. For each of them I would have Kalona and Erebus choose
an element—three of the magickal five: Air, Fire, Water, Earth, and Spirit. Along
with the element of their choosing, I gift them with a wisp of creation energy. Mix
my gift with the power of the Divine that Erebus has so recently claimed as their
birthright.” She paused and bowed her head slightly to Erebus in acknowledgment. “And
they must each create something
here
”—her hand swept out, a gesture that mirrored Nyx’s—“that will delight you
there
.” Mother Earth lifted her arm, pointing up into the brilliant blue of the morning
sky.

“What a wonderful idea!” Nyx said, clapping her hands together happily.

Kalona frowned. “Creation through elements? Fashioned here and enjoyed in the Otherworld?
I do not intend impertinence, Mother Earth, but how are we to complete these tasks
without knowing anything about the Earth or the Otherworld?”

Mother Earth waved her hands dismissively. “You carry the immortality of Divine Energy—that
which created us all. Look within. You already know the Otherworld. The rest is simple
if
you take the time to learn about my earth and my elements.”

“And we know our Goddess,” Erebus said, smiling fondly at Nyx. “We were created knowing
our Goddess. Pleasing her is our pleasure!”

Kalona growled again.

Mother Earth narrowed dark eyes on him, giving him a hard look, as if she were truly
a mother and he her errant child.

“Which element will you choose first?” Nyx asked, seemingly oblivious to the tension
between Kalona and Mother Earth.

Kalona was certain the Goddess had spoken to him, but it was his brother who answered,
“Air, of course. It was from Air that we were fashioned for you. It is only right
that Air continues to delight you.”

“An excellent choice, Erebus,” Mother Earth said. “Until you each call into being
your creation, I grant you dominion over Air! So I have spoken; so mote it be!” A
whoosh of wind washed over them, punctuating her words. Then she took Nyx’s hand and
wrapped it through her arm. “Come, Nyx, let us leave your immortals to the first of
their tests while we drink more nectar and you introduce me to some of your interesting
little Fey.”

“But, what exactly are we are supposed to create?” Kalona asked, hating the desperation
he heard in his voice.

Mother Earth glanced over her shoulder at him. “If you are clever enough to claim
a place beside this lovely, faithful Goddess, you are clever enough to figure that
out on your own—unless you fail the test, Kalona.”

“I will not fail,” Kalona said through gritted teeth.

“But if you do fail,” Mother Earth said, “you will not be allowed access to the Otherworld—not
until you pass all three tests. Agreed?”

“Willingly agreed,” Erebus said.

“Agreed,” Kalona said, though reluctantly.

“But I am quite sure you will not fail,” Nyx said. Her words were balm to him until
she turned her gaze from him to his brother. “Neither of you will fail me. And I cannot
wait to see your creations!”

“Oh, one last thing,” Mother Earth said. “My world is populated by humans, mortals
fashioned by me in the image of the immortals. They are beloved by me. Have a care
with them. No doubt they will mistake you for Gods. If you must interact with them,
be quite certain that they know it is a
mistake
. You are warrior and lover, friend and playmate—you are not Gods. Do you understand
me?”

The winged immortals murmured tandem assurances that they did, indeed, understand
Mother Earth.

“Good! When you have gained enough knowledge and are ready, use Air to summon me.
Nyx will accompany me. As your Goddess she has the right to judge your creations.
I wish both of you luck in your endeavors,” Mother Earth said.

“And I look forward to welcoming both of you to the Otherworld when your tests have
been completed,” Nyx said, smiling at Kalona and Erebus in turn.

Then, changing quickly from divine to girlish, the two women put their heads together,
one as luminous as the full moon, the other as dark and mysterious as the ground on
which they stood. Giggling and whispering, they disappeared into the verdant grove.

Kalona stared after his Goddess, wishing nothing so much as to rush to Nyx and pull
her from Mother Earth—pull her away from anything and anyone who attempted to stand
between them.

“She is exquisite, isn’t she, brother?”

Kalona moved his gaze from the grove to stare at Erebus. Refusing to speak to him
of the Goddess, he said, “Air? Why would you choose such an intangible element to
wield?”

Erebus shrugged his sun-kissed shoulders. Kalona noticed that his hair glowed with
the same golden fire as did his wings. “My only answer is that which I already gave
our Great Mother: it is from the air that we were born. It seemed logical that it
should be the element we first command.”

“She is not my mother,” Kalona said, surprising himself.

Erebus’s golden brows raised. “I think our Goddess might disagree with you.”

Our Goddess.
Kalona hated the sound of those words. “Spend your time thinking of what you will
create,” Kalona told his brother sharply. “For I assure you, what I create will be
worthy of her.”

“I do not believe these tests are meant to be a competition,” Erebus said.

“Well, brother, I think our Goddess might disagree with you.” With those words, Kalona
took several strides toward the shoreline. He leaped up at its very edge, beating
his wings powerfully and using invisible currents of energy to lift himself.

He could feel Nyx’s gaze on him and, just before he disappeared into the horizon,
Kalona glanced back. She was standing at the edge of the grove, staring up at him
and smiling with a warmth that he could feel against his skin. Kalona met her eyes
and touched his lips with his hand. Almost as if they were mirrored beings, Nyx lifted
her own hand to touch her lips.

She loves me best!
The words in his mind matched the beat of his mighty wings as Kalona climbed into
the sky, intent on creating that which would prove he was worthy of his Goddess’s
favor.

4.

AT THAT MOMENT, KALONA WAS ABSOLUTELY CONTENT …

Kalona didn’t think
much of the mortal earth. He crossed a great body of water to find a large, fertile
continent. But much of it was too hot or too cold. Much of it was uninhabited, and
that which was populated by Mother Earth’s human children was far from what Kalona’s
predetermined consciousness considered civilized. He avoided them. Humans might have
been created in Nyx’s image, but they seemed shallow and uninteresting when compared
to the glory of his Goddess. Kalona roamed the vast continent, thinking of Nyx.

He finally came to rest near the center of the continent, drawn down by an expanse
of wild grasses that seemed to stretch from below him all the way to the western horizon.
He came to ground at the edge of the great prairie, near a sandy stream that rolled
musically over smooth river rocks. Kalona drank from the clear, cold water, and then
he sat back against the rough bark of a tree.

What could he create from invisible air and Divine power to please Nyx? He searched
within and easily found the Divine power that hummed through his blood. Using it,
he focused his consciousness outward, and up, far up above the edge of the prairie
and the mortal earth. There he found currents of magick, divine trailings of raw and
ancient power—the same power that coursed within his blood. Experimenting, Kalona
snagged a fragment of ethereal power, pulling it down to him. Then he stood, readying
himself, and called, somewhat tentatively, “Air?”

Instantly, the element responded, swirling around him.

“Show me what you can do.” Kalona felt foolish, speaking aloud to an invisible element.
He pointed at an enormous tree that had somehow grown away from the timberline, proud
and alone, well into the tall grasses of the prairie. “With the help of Divine power,
I command Air to create that which can be seen from the Otherworld!”

Air rushed around him, capturing the strand of ethereal power, and with a mighty roar,
it blew into the tree, which exploded into an enormous mushroom cloud of wood dust
and splinters that shot up so far into the sky that Kalona lost sight of it. Large
black birds, disturbed in their perches, croaked and circled, chiding him.

The immortal sighed. He did not think that the explosion of a tree, no matter how
spectacular, was what—

Kalona’s thoughts were interrupted by a sudden influx of power—something that poured
into him, as if it were a backwash of energy from the destruction of the tree.

Kalona shook his head, clearing his thoughts. His body tingled briefly, but within
seconds the sensation dissipated, leaving him feeling empty and confused. He frowned.
He must remember that he was new to this world—new to the powers he had been born
to wield. Perhaps he was meant to absorb the remnants of unused energy. Kalona ran
his hand through his long, thick hair, speaking his frustration aloud. “How am I to
know? It is unfortunate that Mother Earth couldn’t allow time for adaptation and understanding
before she foisted tests upon me—especially tests that are meant to establish my worth.”

Well, he had successfully used Air and the power of the Divine together. And the result
probably could have been viewed from the Otherworld, as well as from the sun and the
moon. But Kalona didn’t believe Nyx would find the sight of splinters and dust and
annoyed birds very pleasing. It certainly did not please him as miniscule fragments
of the tree began raining down. Kalona was still frowning as he brushed the settling
wood dust from his wings. “Air is a ridiculous element,” he muttered and then, engulfed
in a cloud of wood dust, he coughed and continued brushing dust and shredded leaves
from his wings.

“Oh Winged One! Great God! We beg to know your name so that we may worship you and
not incur your wrath! Please do not destroy us as you did the Great Spirit Tree!”

Coughing, Kalona looked up from his wings. Squinting through the dust-laden air, he
saw a group of natives dressed in leather and feathers and shells prostrating themselves
on the opposite bank of the stream. He glanced behind them and stifled a sigh and
another cough, tallying one more in his list of mistakes—he’d been so concentrated
on the sealike grass prairie and on wielding his power that he hadn’t noticed he’d
come to ground not far from a human settlement.

Kalona squared his shoulders. Covered in dust or not, he must say
something
to these curious and mistaken children of Mother Earth.

“I am Kalona,” he said. They cringed in fear, and he realized he must modulate the
power in his voice. He cleared his throat and began anew. “I am Kalona, and I have
not come to destroy you.”

“Kalona of the Silver Wings, how may we worship you?” asked the human who had first
spoken. He was wrinkled and bent but bedecked in more feathers and shells than the
others, and his face and bared chest were painted in ocher-colored swirls.

“No, worship is not why I am here,” Kalona said.

“But you killed the Great Spirit Tree! You are mightier than it. Now you fill the
air with evidence of your power, and the ravens call to you. We plead that you not
be like the trickster coyote. We will bring you chigustei and the finest of our boiled
meat to eat. The most beautiful of our maidens will warm your bed and dance the Sunrise
Dance for you. Just do not destroy us!”

“You do not understand. I am not—”

Kalona’s words were cut off as the dust-filled air suddenly cleared and an exquisite
woman materialized. She was dressed in the purest of white leathers trimmed in blue
stones, round red beads, and carved bone. Her dark hair reached past her slender waist.
Her delicate feet were bare, her ankles decorated with ropes of shells so that every
time she moved, she made music. Her brown skin was painted with ancient symbols in
a blue so dark and rich the design seemed liquid and ever changing. Though in appearance
she was totally unlike his first sight of the Goddess, Kalona immediately knew this
radiant being was his Nyx.

The humans prostrated themselves again and began to cry, “Estsanatlehi!”