Kaia’s head snapped up at the last words. “Why was I never told?”
“It was never time.”
“And my mother?”
“She died giving birth to you.”
Kaia could sense the truth of what the oracle was saying, and she caught a brief glimpse of a woman — her mother — coming from the oracle’s mind. She did not have time to dwell on her sudden sense of loss as the oracle continued.
“Our line stretches back many, many years. And it is always the women that carry the pure blood. The men we choose to mate with are picked by the inner circle of oracles.”
“My mother—” Kaia began, but the oracle waved a hand.
“I do not have time to assuage your feelings or explain that which is not important right now to you. It was the will of the inner circle, and such will is our law. It has been that way since we were forced to separate and pretend to be something that we aren’t.”
A muscle rippled on Kaia’s jaw, but she forced herself to remain under control. What do I defend?” She asked.
“Everything. We are not from here. We came from a place called Thera. The island that is there now is just a fragment of the kingdom we once had. Before Thera, our people lived in Atlantis.”
Kaia shook her head, her anger still a knotted fist her chest. “Atlantis is a myth. I have read Plato and his writings — as you made me. According to Romans who read him now, it was a device he used to make a point.”
“Atlantis is where we came from,” the oracle said simple. “I assure you it was most real.”
Again, despite her anger, Kaia knew the oracle spoke the truth. “How was it destroyed?”
“It was destroyed by the Shadow.”
“What is this Shadow?”
“A darkness upon the Earth and in it. No one knows exactly what it is, but it is deadly to every living thing. At rare times, it appears and tries to expand to cover the world. Now is one of those times.”
Kaia’s mind brought back the image of her mother she had picked up from the oracle. She heard the oracle’s words, but from a distance. All her life she had wondered who her mother was and where she was. To be told she was dead and the oracle was her grandmother overwhelmed her.
“Pay attention!” The oracle’s words were accompanied by a sharp mental slap, wiping away the image and bringing Kaia back to the here and now. She was tempted to strike back in the same way, but a lifetime of training held her back.
“The Shadow,” the oracle repeated. “It manifests itself in two ways. One is inside the Earth. There is nothing we can do about it in the Earth where it brings forth fire and earthquakes. But the Shadow that comes on the planet’s surface in the form of what we call a gate that we can see, that we can fight. It appears as a darkness on the surface of the planet. Those who go into it don’t come back out.
“We have not seen a gate since Thera was destroyed. From Thera we went to Troy. The Helen of whom stories are told was of our line. After Troy was destroyed, we scattered once more, seeking sanctuary as oracles and priestesses. Always waiting, listening, and watching. And now the Shadow is coming once more. A gate has appeared.”
“Where?”
“To the north, beyond the borders of even the Romans. But the Earth is troubled in many places, and all will be affected.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“You were told to be prepared for a mission, and now that time is here. But you have no idea of the scope and importance of what you must do. There is a shield that can stop the Shadow and close the gate. You are one part of the Shield.”
“How?”
“I cannot tell you that. The knowledge has been lost, but I know that you will find someone on your journey who can tell you. I also know that you need more than you have.” The oracle closed her eyes, and her voice changed. Kaia knew she was hearing the voice of one who had had a vision. She had had many herself, some while sleeping, some while awake.
“I see a staff with a blade on one end and a seven-headed snake on the other. Such a snake is called a Naga. You must find the Naga staff, as it is part of the Shield and it is also the only weapon useful against the emissaries of the Shadow. They are creatures who I have seen in visions passed down to me. With hard white skin and red eyes. They are called Valkyries. They can travel out of the gate for a limited amount of time.
“I have seen a man. A killer. He was a soldier but is no longer. You will need his help and military force to get to the gate and enter it.
“Some of the visions are from now, some are from the past through the bloodline.” The oracle paused, then continued, “But some are from times to come.
“You must go to Rome. Tell the emperor of the threat.” The oracle reached into her robe and pulled out a ring. “Given to my grandmother long ago. It will gain you an audience with the Emperor. Convincing him of the danger, that is another matter. You must keep your eyes open for signs. You have more power than you know. You would have taken my place if the Shadow had not come.”
“My mother-”Kaia began.
“Yes?”
“Where is she buried?”
“In the sacred grove.”
“I wish to see her grave before I leave.”
Steel on steel, the sound of mortal combat echoed off the stonewalls of the arena, rising above the screams of the bloodthirsty crowd. Forty thousand people lined the stands of Rome’s amphitheater, and they were on their feet, as the highlight of the first day of the games was under way, a fight to the death between local favorite Falco and four retiarii.
Falco was a mymillo, the most heavily armed type of gladiator, the name coming from the fish symbol on his helmet. He had a breastplate, metal rings guarding his sword arm, a heavy shield in his right hand, and a sword in his left to complete his armament. The retiarius, or net men, were more lightly armed, each having just a net, trident, and dagger. They were also the only class of gladiator that did not wear a helmet. All four had light skin, prisoners from the northern territories, perhaps Britain.
A net flew, and Falco sidestepped, shoving it away with his shield, careful not to get the edge of the shield caught on it. The four men were working in pairs, two approaching, two waiting, trying to wear him down, waiting for him to make a fatal mistake.
Falco was a large man, as befitted a mymillo towering over the net men. His body was solidly muscled and covered with scars from former engagements. His skin was burned dark from the hours he spent training outdoors. His hair was clipped close to his skull and prematurely gray, a normal thing among those in his occupation. His most intriguing feature were his eyes, deep blue, which spoke of foreign blood.
As the man who had cast scuttled to recover his net, Falco bellowed and charged forward toward his partner. That man took a step backward, and Falco whirled toward the first man, slashing with his sword. He caught the first retiarius as he was gathering up the net. The man was good, blocking the blow with his trident and trying to rip the sword from Falco’s grip by twisting the haft, pinning the blade with forks. He might as well have been trying to move the arm of the statue of the emperor that gazed down from above the imperial box.
Falco’s arm not only didn’t move, he slid the sword down until the guard rested on the base of the trident, then thrust upward with his shield, the metal edge catching the retiarius under the chin, smashing into his jaw and lifting the smaller man off his feet. Falco was still going with the flow of the blow, turning, knowing what was coming even before he saw it, that the second retiarius was casting, trying to catch from behind. He still had the first man hanging on the edge of his shield, and as he completed the turn, he heaved with all his strength, tossing the body at the net. The man went down in a tumble.