Kalona sulked for several days after the test, replaying over and over again in his mind the disastrous conclusion to what he had intended as an awe-inspiring demonstration of passion and power.
How had it gone so terribly wrong?
He had practiced day after day on the grassy prairie. The neighboring tribe of Prairie People could have attested to the fact that he had created many whirling funnels of wind and magick, and that he had easily controlled them. The local mortals had even begun leaving gifts of food, clay pots filled with precious ocher, and carefully made clothing for him. Remembering Nyx’s fondness for these particular people, Kalona had dressed carefully for his test, decorating himself to please her.
But nothing had gone as Kalona had planned.
Erebus had saved the day and won Nyx’s pleasure. Kalona could not bear to think of what else Erebus had won from Nyx.
He would not allow himself to fail again!
“It is that wretched elemental magick that was at fault. Air is so unpredictable—so changeable. It was Erebus’s choice in elements that was flawed. Though is my choice of Water any better?” He paced around the clearing he had begun to think of as his own. It was far enough from the tribe of Prairie People that they did not often pass by, and close enough that the offerings they had continued to leave for him were easily accessible. The People did not particularly interest Kalona, but their food did, as did the thick, soft furs they’d left for his sleeping pallet. Not surprisingly, Mother Earth’s surface was as hard and uncomfortable as her admonishing gaze. The immortal had no true need for sleep, though that did not mean he didn’t appreciate a warm, soft spot on which to rest his body.
“Cro-oak! Cro-oak! Cro-oak!” Above Kalona, the ravens that had taken to following him around the prairie lent their words to his tirade.
“If you must shadow me, do it quietly!”
The black birds preened and stared at him. Kalona shook his head. “I have to find my focus! I must wield Water more wisely than I did Air. I must win Nyx’s pleasure from Erebus.”
That shouldn’t have been so difficult. Before the botched test, Nyx had regularly sought him out. They had spent many days and nights together, and she had seemed well pleased to be in his presence.
“Without being wooed by an unpredictable element!” Kalona shouted his frustration, causing the ravens to flutter their wings restlessly.
Kalona stopped pacing and reasoned aloud. “I pleased her without using an element or invoking Divine magick to do so. I did it before, and I shall do it again. And from an intimate, pleasant interlude wherein I remind her that it is me she desires, not magick or elements or the unpredictable power of creation, I will take her to my next test. It will be something as simple and intimate as our interlude, and I will be victorious, winning Nyx’s favor!” Kalona hurried to the pile of furs and leathers and such that were rich gifts from the Prairie People. He dug through the mound until he found what he sought—a knife made of a black stone, hewn to a strong, sharp point. “I am liking these Prairie People more and more each day.” Kalona rolled the knife and a basket of fruit and fragrant flatbread within the softest of the furs, and then he took to the sky and headed into the northwest, seeking that which he knew would please his Goddess.
He didn’t use magick to fell the tall pine tree, though he did use his immortal strength, as well as his preternatural speed, to hollow it out and carve from it the form of a gracefully pointed boat. Kalona found he enjoyed using his hands as much as he enjoyed the scent of wood and the sight of the azure lake. Nyx had been right about the beauty of the lake. Its color was so lovely that he often glanced at it to be sure it wasn’t just a trick of his sight. But it didn’t change. Even under the moonlight the huge round body of water, dotted with one tree-covered island, seemed to glisten aqua, its high sides looking like a bowl made of clouds that had trapped the sky.
Kalona worked without pause all day and night on the little boat, and as he worked he thought of Nyx. Her beauty inspired him, and when he was finished he stood back and surveyed his work. Kalona was well pleased. The craft was more than seaworthy. Kalona liked to believe that it also reflected Nyx’s beauty. All around it he had meticulously carved symbols that reminded him of the Goddess: stars and moons, delicate shells and waves. He had even replicated the white flowers she had worn in her hair when last he’d seen her.
He carried the boat down the steep side of the lake so that it rested on the rocky shore. Then he placed the thick, soft fur within it, as well as the basket of fruit and flatbread. He was ready for Nyx. He had even decided what he would create for her during his next test. He hadn’t practiced over and over again as he had with the funnel cloud, but he felt confident that he had changed his intent enough that he wouldn’t make the same mistake as before. This time he would not show her the power of his passion. This time he would make tangible the delight he felt at her beauty, and show her how much he cherished her, in whatever visage she chose.
There was just one thing that he couldn’t figure out, and that was how to get Nyx to come to him without using Water to summon meddling Mother Earth. He wanted to be alone with his Goddess before the test, to show her what his own hands had created for her before he wielded magick and Water and put on the requisite public show.
Kalona had never had to call Nyx to him before. She had just appeared, usually smiling and telling him to stop looking so serious and come gather flowers with her, or gaze at moonlit water with her, or kiss her, gently, just where her impossibly soft skin curved to meet her graceful shoulders …
Kalona shook himself mentally. Thinking of kissing Nyx would not conjure the Goddess.
Perhaps he should try calling her name.
“Nyx?” His voice echoed back to him over the brilliant blue surface of the lake, sounding tentative and almost childlike. Kalona squared his shoulders and tried again. “Nyx!” This time the echo was more forceful, though it produced the same result. Nyx did not appear.
“Think!” he commanded himself. “There must be a way to reach her without using Mother Earth’s element and bringing the whole crowd of them here.”
As if his words had conjured a small part of that crowd, the little creature stepped from behind a nearby pine tree and spoke mockingly in its whispery voice, Goddess not called like servant! Goddess commands, not commanded!
“You are one of Nyx’s Fey. I saw you beside her on the prairie.”
As soon as Kalona spoke, the Fey skittered back behind the tree.
“Don’t run away! I need your help.” Kalona pitched his voice to sound coaxing, soothing. The creature, moving with an odd, liquid grace, slid part of its body from behind the tree, peeking out at him. “Don’t be frightened. I will not harm you.”
Not frightened, said the Fey, moving all the way out from behind the tree.
“That’s right, you don’t need to be frightened of me.”
L’ota not frightened.
“L’ota? Is that the type of Fey you are?”