The Druid Queen - Douglas Niles [133]
Now, however, it was up to Robyn to make sure that her goddess's freedom remained unchecked. This looming god was a great threat to that vibrant vitality, and it was one Robyn could not let pass unchallenged.
As she soared lower, the figures on the ground became visible. She saw the deep pit and recognized Tristan and Alicia. She saw other humans and many dwarves trapped there as well. Desperately Robyn wished that she could spare the time to go to them, could at least share with her family the sense of overwhelming love that drove her now into her most desperate attack.
Outside the pit, Robyn saw her daughter Deirdre and the patriarch of Helm. When she recognized the latter, a squawk of anger burst from her hawk's beak, for even the self-disciplined druid was unable to entirely contain her outrage.
Then she dove, feeling the power of the goddess surge through her. She was more than the great druid now, more even than the druid queen. As her spirit expanded, nourished by her days of meditation and trance, and she faced the looming bulk of the New Gods' power, she became something awe-inspiring, immortal in her own right.
In the force of that swooping dive, Robyn Kendrick, High Queen of the Isles, became the avatar of the Earthmother.
* * * * *
"Damn the curse that blinds her!" Tristan swore, shaking his fist at the disappearing firbolgs. Beside him, Ranthal paced and barked.
The brutes had just lowered them into the pit with the rest of his companions, and now he railed at the backs of the giants, arms clasped around swords, shields, and axes, who walked away with the weapons of the humans and dwarves. The firbolgs quickly disappeared from sight, since the prisoners in the pit could see only a short distance beyond the rim of the enclosure.
Just then the shriek of the white hawk pierced the breezy air in the valley, and the king peered anxiously into the sky. "Robyn! It's a trap!" he cried, his voice lost in the wind that suddenly arose.
"What are you guys doing in here?" asked Newt, appearing between Tristan and Alicia as they stood beside the gray barrier of the granite wall.
"We have to get out!" Tristan barked, returning to his inspection of the sheer surface. It was only twelve feet high or so, but the sides had been thoroughly smoothed and provided no handholds. It made a very effective prison.
"Well, don't be mad at me!" the faerie dragon huffed, quickly disappearing again.
Keane approached, his gait maddeningly nonchalant to the king. Yet Tristan sensed something conspiratorial in the man's walk, so the king turned back to the cliff, as if continuing his inspection. Keane came to a stop beside him.
"There may be a way-at least for one of us to get out of here," the young wizard said, his tone low and elaborately conversational. "I have a spell of levitation. It can lift me to the top, where I just might be able to do some good."
Tristan looked at him thoughtfully. "Just you?" he asked.
"Well, just a single person," the mage amended. "Though I thought that I could do the most-"
"Please!" the king said, his voice desperate. "That's my wife and my daughter up there! Use the spell on me!"
"But… Your Majesty," Keane objected. "You have no weapons!" He bit back another remark, concerning the king's missing hand. He saw the desperation in Tristan's eyes but tried to dissuade him rationally. "At least I could use my spells to some effect!" he concluded lamely.
"Think about the fact that they put you in here without restraint," Tristan urged, his eyes turning crafty. "They know of your powers! Perhaps they're watching you right now, waiting for you to make some move for freedom! They won't expect the same from me!"
"But… the danger-!"
"Keane!" Tristan's voice was level and tense. "I won't, I can't order you to do this. The goddess knows you've earned the right to rule yourself. But please, man… it's Robyn!"
"Very well, Sire," Keane said miserably. He looked around the fringe of the pit-at least, at as much as they could see of it