The Curse and The Quest

The Goddess of Dandrul’s Pool

Prince Bryan crept barefoot through the dark castle. When he saw his father’s room, he slowed to a crawl and held his breath. Light spilled out beneath the thick wooden door. He pictured his father hunched over his writing table, muttering angrily. Any noise would bring him storming through the door. Prince Bryan loved his father, but like everyone else in the kingdom, he was afraid of him.

If he had just ignored Dreya’s note, he would still be asleep in a warm bed. The only reason to get up this early was to go fishing or hunting. Things that were actually enjoyable. But he had no choice. Dreya’s life was in danger.

He read the note again. ‘Dandrul’s Pool. Sunrise.’ He knew what it meant. She had gone to ask the pool goddess about The Curse.

His father, King Torin, said that there was no curse, but Dreya rarely paid any attention to him. She was sure there was a curse and she had gone up to get help from the most dangerous pool goddess in the kingdom.

Footsteps sounded on the staircase. The night guard was early. Prince Bryan squeezed behind the suit of armor by his father’s door. He was surprised at how little room there was. He had hidden there a hundred times as a child, but now he was much too big. As he tried to crouch behind the armor, he bumped one of the metal arms and the armor started to topple. He threw his arms around the iron suit and pulled it back into place. The footsteps reached the landing. Prince Bryan froze, hugging his father’s armor, hoping the guard would go up to the next floor. The steps started toward him. He slid down to the floor behind the armor and ducked his head.

What am I afraid of? he thought. He’s a night guard. I’m the crown prince of Partrain. I can go wherever I want.

He knew perfectly well what he was afraid of. His father would ask him why the future king of Partrain was hiding in the shadows like a rat, and he would have no answer. If he mentioned Dreya’s note, his father would explode. He checked to make sure the note hadn’t fallen out of his pocket. I should have burned it, he thought.

But it wasn’t the night guard. They were walking too slowly and seemed to be slinking along the wall. An assassin? Prince Bry an eased his dagger out and put one hand against the armor so he could push it over on the intruder. Then he saw the shoes. They were nothing but rags wrapped around dirty feet. It was Tobin, the blind beggar, one of his father’s spies, dragging one hand along the wall. When his arm touched the armor, he stopped. Prince Bryan held his breath. Tobin mumbled something, then walked around the armor to the king’s door and knocked.

“Name!” called King Torin. “Tobin, Your Highness.”

The door opened, but only a crack. “Speak,” King Torin said.

“It’s about Eredis,” Tobin said, “the High Davina.”

“I know who Eredis is,” snapped the king. “What about her?”

“She’s discovered something about The Curse.”

“What has she discovered?”

“I don’t know, Your Highness. I overheard the kitchen staff.”

“You don’t know? Come back when you know something.”

The door slammed.

Tobin turned, felt for the armor, and stopped. He reached out toward Prince Bryan. People said that Tobin could see more with his other senses than most people could with their eyes. They also said that Tobin wasn’t blind at all. The old man’s hand landed lightly on the armor’s right arm. He pushed it back into place, moving it less than a finger’s width, then walked back toward the stairs, his long nails making a scratching noise on the wall.

Prince Bryan edged out of his hiding place, tiptoed past his father’s door, and started to run. He raced to the servants’ stairs, shot down to the first floor, through the kitchen, and out into the cool night air of the Royal Gardens.

“Our hero escapes!” he sang out as he sprinted past the first hedge, out of earshot of the castle. “But,” he added in a dramatic voice, “will he get there in time to save the damsel?”

He laughed at the thought of Dreya being a damsel in distress. Her totem was the cave lion, and it fit her. She was fearless. The tattoo on her ankle was a cave lion with its jaws wide, ready to pounce. Prince Bryan’s totem was the gray wolf. His father said it was a sly and ruthless killer. Prince Bryan thought it looked like a scrawny dog. Even if kings were allowed tattoos, he would not want a gray wolf slinking about anywhere on his body.

The moon was almost down. He had taken far too long getting through the castle. He wished Dreya had talked to him before going up to Dandrul’s Pool, though it just would have led to an argument. King Torin swore that The Curse was a story made up by Eredis to help her and the Eternal Order gain power over the throne. Eredis said that she had received a revelation – Archon, the source of all evil, was preparing a curse that would plunge the entire Fourth Era into endless war. Prince Bryan believed his father. Dreya believed her mother. Eredis was her mother. The throne and the Eternal Order had been locked in a bitter power struggle for generations. Prince Bryan and Dreya, on the other hand, were best friends.

He ran down the long gravel path that curved around the herb garden. The smell of basil and rosemary made his mouth water. Just past the roses and the heather, at the foot of the gardens, he came to the statues of the four greatest kings of Partain. He dropped to one knee in front of the last one, a tall, broad-shouldered man with a brow so thick it nearly covered his eyes. It was his father, King Torin IV, mounted on Tramane, the great warhorse.

“King Torin the Brave, I salute you,” Prince Bryan said solemnly. He reached into the tall grass behind Tramane’s feet. “And thanks for hiding my boots.”

He pulled the boots out and hurriedly put them on. As he set out for the Forest Wall, he took one last look at his father’s stern face. People told Prince Bryan that he looked like his father, with the same straight nose and strong jaw, but he couldn’t see it. His eyes weren’t as fierce and his shoulders weren’t as broad. He was tall for his age, fast with a sword, and good with a bow, but he wasn’t heroic. At my age, he thought, Father was already a war hero. I’ve never even seen a battle.

From the orchards, he could see the Royal Forest, an endless carpet of green stretching up to distant Mt. Caern. It was his favorite place in all of Partrain. He raced toward the Forest Wall, an ancient stone barrier as tall as two men, built before the beginning of the Third Era. No one knew where the huge stones had come from or how they had been moved.

“Morning, Kipper,” called Jenkins, the gate guard, as the prince approached.

“Morning Jenkins,” Prince Bryan said. People called him Kipper when his father wasn’t around.

“Did Dreya come through?”

“A while ago,” Jenkins said. “I warned her about being out at night, what with The Curse and all.”

Prince Bryan hurried through the gate, wishing people would stop talking about The Curse. He entered the forest and breathed in the sharp scent of the pines.

When he reached the Caern River, instead of crossing the stone bridge, he turned to the right onto a narrow deer trail that ran along the bank. It was overgrown and he had to push through the hawthorn bushes until it left the river and headed toward Elvin Ravine.

He went over the note in his mind. It had no details, just to be there at dawn. It was already dawn. He pictured Dreya at the bottom of Dandrul’s Pool and raced up the steep rise to Evan’s Crest. At the crest, he turned off the trail and sprinted across Blackthorn Meadow to the top of the ravine. He edged out on a rock ledge and peered down. It was dawn, but down at the pool it was still as dark as night. It gave him hope.

When his eyes adjusted, he could just make out the pool at the bottom. Something was floating in the middle of the water. He leaned out as far as he could. It looked like a white circle. He shaded his eyes from the pale light of the morning sky. It was a circle of cloth with something in the middle.

It was Dreya.

She was motionless, still as death, staring skyward, with her slip spreading out around her head like a halo.

Prince Bryan jumped from the ledge, crashed through a blackthorn bush, and tumbled head over heels down the steep ravine. He slid to a stop, staggered to his feet, and limped to the edge of the water, shouting Dreya’s name.

She didn’t move.

He was about to leap in but stopped when he noticed her clothes, folded neatly beside the pool. She wasn’t dragged in, he thought. Maybe she’s put herself in a trance to talk to the pool goddess. Or maybe the pool goddess put her in a trance and she’s freezing to death in front of me.

A pale light appeared in the water. It grew until a green face emerged. Long wrinkles ran from her eyes down her green cheeks. Her dark lips were bloated and cracked, revealing lines of pink flesh. She glared at Prince Bryan with eyes as pale as moonlit clouds.

He reached slowly for his dagger.

The goddess snarled, pulling back her lips, and two tusk-like teeth slid out from her upper jaw as she opened her mouth. She let out a rattling noise, like stones grinding together, and then grabbed Dreya’s wrist and pulled her down.

Prince Bryan didn’t hesitate. He dove after them, kicking down through the ice-cold water. Somewhere in his mind, he knew that he couldn’t outswim a goddess and she would probably kill them both, but all that mattered was Dreya. He pulled down through the darkness until he felt Dreya’s slip, trailing out behind her. He grabbed it, then caught hold of her ankle. He tried to turn and head for the surface, but the goddess was too strong, pulling them both down deeper into the cold dark pool.

His lungs ached for air. If he held on any longer, he’d be too deep to make it back to the surface. He held on.

Just when his lungs were about to explode, he hit the muddy bottom, was dragged through a tunnel, and then jerked upward. His head burst out of the water into complete darkness. He heard Dreya beside him, gasping and choking, and the pool goddess, a few feet away. A pale glow appeared and spread from a wand she was holding. They were standing neck-deep in a small pool in an underwater cave, right beside a rock ledge which was littered with bones. It was the floor of a cave that stretched far back into the shadows. It smelled like rotten fish.

Prince Bryan pushed Dreya up onto the ledge and climbed up beside her. She was gasping and choking, but alive.

To Prince Bryan’s surprise, the goddess was also gasping for air. She doesn’t have gills, he thought. She can’t breathe in the water.

The pool goddess tried to drag herself up onto the floor of the cave but fell back into the water.

And she’s exhausted. He knew what to do.

“Dreya,” he said. “Take in all the air you can and hold it.” Dreya shook her head.

The pool goddess finally made it onto the ledge and collapsed in a heap. She slowly bared her saber teeth and snarled at Prince Bryan. He stood up and felt for his dagger. It was back on the beach. The pool goddess pointed her glowing wand at his stomach and drew in a long breath.

You’re too slow, he thought as he took a quick step toward her and kicked the wand out of her hand. It sailed into the water and sank.

The cave was suddenly dark. He felt a bony hand grab his ankle, then another one on his knee. He kicked free, her fingernails gouging his leg, then he lifted Dreya and jumped into the water.

“A deep breath,” he said. “Now!” He heard her draw in a deep breath. He held onto her wrist and swam hard with one arm, towing her back through the tunnel.

When he saw a faint glimmer above them, he swam up toward it as hard as he could. Dreya hung like a dead weight. His lungs tried to pry open his mouth and he was about to suck in great gulps of water when he burst up into the air. He lifted Dreya so her head was above water and thrashed through the pond to the beach.

He laid her down and put his ear to her lips, straining to feel her breath.

“Please don’t die.”

He shook her, turned her over on her stomach, and pounded her back.

The sky above him was pale pink. He heard the owl call again.

He rolled her over. She was limp.

“You can’t be dead,” he whispered. “You’re the next High Davina. You can’t die like this.”

She suddenly arched her back and coughed up nearly a bucket of water, then coughed and coughed. Then she grew still again. Too still for far too long. He took hold of her shoulder and gently shook her.

“Dreya?”

She opened her eyes.

“Quit shaking me,” she whispered.

Prince Bryan was so relieved that he wanted to hug her.

“I thought you were dead.”

She lay still, looking up into the sky, then said slowly, “What happened?”

“That green goddess tried to drown you.”

There was another long pause before Dreya spoke again. “She had just started to talk to me. Then she stopped. Did you do something to make her stop?”

“Did I do something?” Prince Bryan blurted out, surprised that she wasn’t thanking him. “I stopped her from drowning you. You were floating like a corpse and she pulled you down to her cave.”

“She’s the Goddess of Dandrul’s Pool.”

“I know who she is,” he said. “She’s the pool goddess who kills people in her cave.”

“Those are just stories. She’s a wounded goddess, but she isn’t evil.”

“Not evil! She almost killed us! Don’t you remember the cave? The bones? The wand? I saved your life!”

Dreya took a long breath and closed her eyes. Her shoulders relaxed and her whole body seemed to soften. After a few moments, she nodded and slowly stood up.

“I do remember,” she said.

She looked so exhausted that he thought she might sink back to the ground. Then she put her right hand over her heart and bowed. It was what commoners did when they approached the king or one of the princes. He had never seen her do it before, except as a joke.

“You’re right,” she said. “You did save my life. Thank you.”

When he noticed her thin slip clinging to her body, he blushed, turned around, and looked down into the pool.

“She was about to tell me something about Archon and his curse,” she said.

“The Curse,” he said, still staring into the pool. “How does that pool goddess know what Archon is doing? Archon lives in the darkest corner of the heavens, that witch lives at the bottom of a pool. And how do you know there even is a curse? Your mother thinks it’s the end of the world. My father says it doesn’t exist. All I know is that it nearly got you killed. And for what?”

“To save the Fourth Era,” Dreya said. “The Curse is real, not just for Partrain but for the entire world, and that goddess can help us.”

He turned around to face her. She was dressed and the color was back in her face. He was going to argue with her but when he saw that she had recovered, he just smiled.

“What were you going to say?” Dreya asked.

“Do you know how close you came to dying?” “That’s not what you were going to say,” she said, narrowing her eyes and staring into his. “What were you thinking?”

“Don’t give me that look. You’re pretending to read my mind. If you could read it, you wouldn’t have to ask me what I was thinking.”

Dreya looked down and frowned. “Why is your leg bleeding?”

Prince Bryan’s pant leg was ripped. He had three gashes on his calf and ankle.

“Your friend did that,” he said. “The one who isn’t evil.”

“We have to get back,” she said, lacing up her boots. “Your leg is poisoned, but it will be fine if we dress it with hut root oil.”

“Poisoned?”

Dreya started up the path to the top of the ravine.

“It will swell up and stop moving,” she said. “I’ll run ahead, get the oil, and meet you in your room. Hurry, but don’t run. It will make the poison move faster.”

Sunlight finally reached the bottom of the ravine.