Shalilly

By Elizabeth Gracen and Luca di Napoli

In the heart of ancient Delphi, Fippa, a sixteen-year old misfit mystic with unusual gifts, stands at the edge of a cosmic pool, ready to drown. Her sacrifice is the only way to open the portal within the water’s black depths and the only chance she has to bring the young warrior, Ision, back to Earth before Darkness annihilates Love from the Cosmos.

Submerged in the pool, Fippa’s heart stops beating and the portal opens. She finds herself unexpectedly transformed into an exotic butterfly girl—a creature of legend—the Shalilly. Resurrected into a parallel dimension—a land full of mythical creatures, talking animals, and the Pale Ones who dominate them—Fippa the Shalilly is captured and sold to the very man she came to find.

With Darkness looming ever closer, Fippa must persuade Ision to return with her to Earth by telling him a fantastic story—their story. The story of Love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Apr 3, 2016
• ISBN: 9780997100600

Book preview

CHAPTER

Sixteen years later…

Ision stood beneath a crumbling portico in the heart of Thessalia, his warrior’s instinct attuned to a fresh, unearthly danger. His brow furrowed. He had no idea what could possibly happen next, but when he gazed down on the strange young mystic lying limp in his arms, somehow he knew she was the greatest challenge he would ever face. The mere sight of her caused him to question his every reason for being. Was she a sorceress sent from Hades to taunt him? What kind of trick had the gods played on him, and how on earth would he ever explain to his father what he was about to do?

None of it mattered now. He had made a decision, and he fully intended to see it through to the end. He would not hesitate in his conviction, despite the lack of precedent to gauge his merit in the unnatural world in which he now found himself. All he had was this unusual, precocious girl. He’d never met anyone like her. Her very words had challenged him to reach further for the excellence she believed him capable of. Why was he drawn so irresistibly to the curious being he held so tightly in his arms?

Fippa, he whispered, his lips pressed to her ear.

The sky cracked open and unleashed a hellish storm. He pulled the hood over her red curls, hiding her from the elements. He ducked into the ferocious windstorm and ran like a hunted stag from the portico toward the stables.

A massive black stallion stepped from the shadows. Moonlight danced in the impressive beast’s flashing eyes; he would not let the young warrior pass.

From beneath the heavy cloak, Fippa groaned. Ision, we must find my horse, Eudor.

"Not to worry. He found us," he answered lifting her onto the horse’s broad back and mounting behind her.

A howl of wind unleashed Fippa’s fiery locks from her hood. She lowered her head into the air’s sharp sting and unclenched her cold fists from the stallion’s black mane to secure her disguise.

A rolling earthquake buckled the fertile plain. Ision paid it no heed as he turned the horse into the heart of the storm and tightened his arm around the warm waist of his companion.

We ride! he yelled above the thunder.

The moon, one night from fullness, tried to slip from behind the clouds, but the storm had other ideas. It taunted the heavens as elemental nature warred with itself. Earth, air, fire, and water fought for dominance as Eudor carried his riders to the promise of morning.

When dawn finally shot sharp bolts of light through the thunderheads and dispersed the aberrant storm, Fippa placed her hand on Ision’s muscular thigh.

We are close! she shouted.

The unmistakable smell of salty air filled Ision’s nostrils. How can that be? We should have another day’s ride ahead of us. How did this beast find his way to the sea so quickly? he asked, his clear green eyes full of disbelief.

Fippa patted the glistening stallion’s neck with great affection. Eudor is not of this world, Ision. Surely you’ve noticed?

Inclined to fall into his usual banter with this fresh-mouthed girl, Ision held back the impulse to engage in a friendly war of words. The redheaded young mystic’s enigmatic smile had disarmed him yet again.

As you know, I have little understanding of such things, he said with a slight grin.

Or patience, Fippa answered. Her large blue eyes sparkled, teasing him as she lowered her hood to her shoulders.

Ision’s smile broadened. He felt comfortable with this playful, mocking humor, and he liked Fippa’s unconventional way of looking at things. He could be himself around her. It was refreshing, even after all that had happened.

Eudor strained against the reins, determined to continue.

Let him take us where he will, Fippa said with an assuring nod.

Ision struggled against everything he had ever learned about horsemanship and reluctantly allowed the horse to lead the way.

Within an hour, the sea churned below them, and the sun blazed out to the Ionian Sea. Ision felt the horse slow its pace as Fippa placed her hand on his. She closed her eyes as she conjured unseen guidance.

We are near. Lead us, she whispered, repeating the words until they hummed like the wind."

Eudor moved forward into the sunrise, his footing perilously close to the crumbling cliff edge that dropped drastically to the rocks and pounding waves below. Ision tried his best to pull Eudor back, but the horse had a will of its own. Eudor pranced in a wide circle and moved away from the cliff’s edge before turning again to face the sea. He pawed the ground, ready for the charge.

Great Zeus! Ision shouted. No!

Eudor bounded forward and plunged headlong over the cliff, his body extended in a great leap of faith. Ision held onto Fippa as she grabbed the horse’s mane with both hands and screamed.

They descended, in what felt like slow motion—the warrior, the mystic, and the beast that bore them to the ground.

A small craggy island, surrounded by razor-sharp rocks, emerged from the waves like hands pressed together in prayer. Eudor’s hooves hit the center of the tiny island and both riders fell forward across the horse’s neck with a shout. The beast stomped his hooves and snorted. The sea crashed against the rocks in percussive succession, sending aloft showers of sea spray.

"Now what do we do?!" Ision shouted.

Look! Fippa pointed to the narrow slit in the tallest rock. The opening in the weathered shard looked like a giant oyster shell turned on its side. An eerie calm replaced the sound of crashing waves, and the wind whistled a ghostly tune.

Ision lowered Fippa to the ground and watched as she moved closer to the cave’s black threshold. She sang along with the eerie music, her voice harmonizing with the wind.

In an instant, the mysterious melody grabbed Ision’s heart and would not let go. Overwhelming joy and sorrow swelled within his chest. It took his breath away. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember a time when he did not know this confounding mystic and her mysterious world. For the love of all things reasonable, what was happening to him?

This is it, Fippa whispered.

I certainly hope so, he said, relieved when the music finally stopped. He dismounted and looked at the cliff line far above. Otherwise, we are in for a dismal climb.

Fippa turned to him. Her azure eyes held pale fire. Are you certain you want to do this?

I gave you my word, did I not? His cheeks flushed red, and his jaw set even more firmly than usual.

I apologize. I do not doubt your honor. Her trembling fingers gently touched his arm. I cannot thank you enough. I hope you know that, Ision. You are a man of your word.

Ision looked away. Fippa’s gaze brought only more questions he did not wish to contemplate at the moment. He gestured toward the opening and instinctively reached for his sword. She touched his arm again and shook her head. A blade would not be necessary.

It is not my habit to walk into unknown passageways without my weapon drawn, Ision whispered hoarsely, his foot just inside the Cave’s entrance.

From somewhere deep within the crevice, unearthly music rose gradually to a crescendo. Wall torches ignited before them and glistened on rock walls bathed in sea water. Uneven, rough-hewn steps led down into a winding passageway.

Eudor nudged past them and took the lead into the stairwell. His snorts of encouragement ricocheted against the rock. More wall torches ignited and compelled the new arrivals to follow the light. The ever-widening passage of slate-gray rock led to a gaping hole in the wall, flanked by two enormous torches. Words carved above the primitive doorway pulsed to life with fire.

‘Black-winged Night,

Into the bosom of Erebus, dark and deep, laid a wind-born egg. And, as the seasons rolled forth, sprang Love, the longed-for, Shining, with wings of gold’…Aristophanes.

What does it mean? Ision frowned. And, who in the name of Poseidon is Aristophanes?

A poet, I suppose. Fippa studied the words again. A poet from long ago…Or from the future. It is hard to tell about such things. Time follows a strange path in places like this.

Ision raised an eyebrow and shook his head. He met her gaze with a bewildered smile and offered his hand. Together, they stepped through the opening. Eudor waited by an eternal flame positioned on a high brazier near the doorway. The light cast shadows and illuminated an oversized rock helicline that coiled down into an enormous chamber. Ision took a wall torch and tentatively advanced a few steps down the glossy ramp.

It’s a bit slippery. It might be easier to slide down. Ision sat on the edge of the helicline. Shall we go for a ride?

Fippa sat down beside him, and they carefully slipped down the ramp. Water dripped and bubbled all around them. A fine mist lay heavy in the air, but the cave held neither chill nor threat. Warm and womb-like, the atmosphere seemed to promise them a safe haven.

They reached the lower level and turned at the sound of hooves hitting stone. Eudor pranced down the slick rock curl with impossible grace. Fippa patted Eudor’s neck with a smile, removed her wet cape and spread it across a rock.

We are to wait here, she said. It shouldn’t take long.

Ision carried the torch to a small circle of low metal braziers filled with charcoal. He moved in and out of the shadows as each brazier caught flame before carrying the torch to an enormous flat rock covered in a moss mattress. He turned and looked at Fippa.

How can you stand, girl? My legs are barely holding me up. With that, he collapsed unceremoniously onto the cushioned bed and patted the space beside him. Lie down and rest, Fippa.

Fippa felt her cheeks flush at his words, but she was much too weary for any girlish excitement she might feel under normal circumstances. She lowered her aching body onto the mossy bed and groaned with exhaustion.

That feels good, does it not? she whispered.

Ision grunted in agreement.

She knew Ision still had no comprehension of what they were about to do. He had agreed to come with her, despite his obvious suspicion, and he showed no signs of wavering in his decision. She could only guess at his true motives.

Her supreme instinct, an empathic gift that allowed her to feel the emotions of others, usually guided her in the right direction when it came to understanding the people around her, but to her amazement, Ision’s essence eluded her.

Left to navigate their brief, yet dramatic, relationship without her gift forced her to trust in her simple feminine intuition. Ision proved to be a challenge for her—one she’d never faced before. Was this why she had chosen him? Or, had his good looks and confidence easily swayed her?

Fippa could not deny the physical attraction she felt for him. How could she? He stood tall, and she liked that. She actually had to pull her gaze away from his broad chest to look up at his face— when she dared to make eye contact. It was exciting and terrifying to be near him. He was beautiful, like a young god—an Olympian. And when Ision was with her, she felt soft and feminine, despite the constant comments about her size and sturdy stature from her Delphic family.

She sighed. She was not destined for ordinary things like young love. She believed, with all her being, that her fate demanded more of her—something loftier and important. She just hadn’t expected to feel a little sad about it all. There was so much she needed to explain to Ision, but before she had a chance to speak, he started to snore.

Fippa turned on her side and studied the young warrior. He slept peacefully, his long black lashes accented against unblemished, tanned skin. His hand rested on his sword, ready for action if the need should arise.

Why had he agreed to come with her? Had supernatural forces intervened, or did he actually believe her bizarre, complex story?

Whatever the reason, I thank you, she whispered as she dared to push a raven curl from his forehead.

Ision moaned and rolled to face her, his eyes still closed.

It didn’t matter why he’d come. He had given her his word, and she truly believed he was someone she could trust with her life. She took another deep breath and let go of all anticipation. Everything had gone according to plan. She could rest for now.

CHAPTER

Theano the Wise had seen the sacred grotto called the Palisade Cave in her mind’s eye many times before. But nothing could have prepared her for the potent energy vortex within it, or for the effect it would have upon her. Ninety years old and blind, with hair as silver as a crescent moon, she felt her aged body rejuvenated, her purpose renewed within the Cave’s wet walls.

Many years ago, she had been the Oracle who had channeled the Delphic prophecy from Gaia, the Earth Mother goddess. The prophecy proclaimed the birth of Love’s savior, the Solitary—the only one who could win the looming battle against a ravenous Darkness that desired the total annihilation of Love from the very soul of the Cosmos.

When baby Fippa was born, Theano knew the Solitary had finally arrived. Under Theano’s tender tutelage, the sensitive young girl had learned the ways of magic and would now prove the perfect fulfillment of Love’s prophecy.

Here, deep within the Palisade Cave, Theano stood above Fippa and Ision as they slept. Their collective auras blended into a brilliant display of energy that even a blind woman could detect. A delicate Omphalos—a small, thimble-like crystal—hung round Theano’s neck and pulsed with the same luminous light. She placed her palm over the sacred artifact and pressed it to her chest. Its warmth filled her with hope.

She sighed, her job all but over. Once Fippa and Ision committed their lives to Love’s cause, the Spheres would turn anew, and the Darkness would be defeated once again. Theano could rest then, her destiny fulfilled. She pondered a long-overdue sabbatical from Delphi’s turmoil as her fingers traced the two entwined chains of fine gold that held the Omphalos around her neck.

But until that time…

She turned to prepare the ceremony, her white robes swirling around her like wispy clouds.

Ision and Fippa awoke to the glow of candlelight. The Palisade Cave pulsed with the flicker of hundreds of candles. The rock walls glistened and stretched far above their heads. A slick, rocky floor dipped and dodged around craggy boulders before merging into the undulating walls. Three large pools of black liquid bubbled at the far end of the Cave.

They are as forbidding as they look, Theano said from behind them. The Palisade Pools are older than the land. I beg you, stay far from their pull.

Theano! Fippa hiked up her linen robes and ran toward her. You made it! She wrapped her arms around Theano’s neck and kissed her cheek.

Theano hugged her protégé close. Perhaps you should introduce me to your friend now, she whispered. I am eager to meet him finally.

Fippa blinked, shaken by the words. "This is really about to happen, isn’t it?"

Theano laughed. Yes, it is, dear one…if you are ready.

Fippa took a deep breath and turned. Ision’s expression carried a mixture of uncertainty and tremendous pride. He stepped forward, and the candlelight seemed to dance around him in celebration.

Ision, this is Theano the Wise, the oldest living Oracle—my mentor and dearest friend. Fippa smiled at both of them.

Ision bowed to Theano.

Oh, Ision! There is much you do not understand. Theano smiled. "I am the one who should bow before you. Thank you for coming."

Under Theano’s attention, Ision appeared younger and less assured; his usual coy smile melted into a boyish grin. Only then did he notice the Wise One’s clouded eyes.

I still see you, Ision, spoke Theano, divining his thoughts. I don’t need my eyes to see the truth. Theano raised a brow in sly approval and turned to Fippa. "You were right. He is beautiful."

Fippa’s cheeks flushed crimson as she avoided Ision’s curious eyes. He didn’t need to know that she thought him the most handsome young man she’d ever seen. It would only confuse their purpose. They were here on a serious mission, and her weakness—her childish infatuation with him—had nothing to do with it at all!

I thought you two would sleep forever, Theano said with a knowing smile. Have refreshment before we begin. She gestured to a rough stone table covered with fruit, cheese, and bread. It is not much, but one must make do.

Theano picked up a succulent apple and offered it to Eudor. The enormous stallion accepted the gift gently into his mouth as she entwined her fingers in his long silky mane.

You are a special beast, aren’t you? You have been a valiant companion, she whispered in his ear.

Fippa and Ision ate in silence, never quite making eye contact with their shy glances. In just a few moments, they would join in a ceremony that would seal their fate to the Cosmos. Fippa, the Solitary, and Ision, the Fulcrum. Fippa had no idea what came next. The Texts didn’t explain it, and Theano had refused to tell her. Would there be a tangible shift in the Cosmos? Would Love rise up with wings of gold like the carving above the entrance foretold? Would everything be different?

As always, Theano seemed to sense when Fippa’s mind tangled with too many expectations.

It is time. Theano raised her arms and summoned the Cave’s forces.

The extraordinary sound wrapped Fippa’s fear and confusion with a soothing musical balm. Did the wind sing? Or was it the water? Or the rocks? Or was it everything in this enchanted grotto? Even the fire from the torches seemed to participate in the transcendent chorus that rang in her ears.

Ision’s gaze locked with Fippa’s, and she sensed his complete calm. He stood and offered his hand. A shy smile flickered across her face as she placed her pale hand in his.

Theano led them to a shell-encrusted altar, studded with amethyst and citrine crystals. She lifted the sacred Omphalos necklace over her head; the chains separated, and the artifact split into two perfectly cleft halves. She hung one-half of the necklace around Fippa’s neck.

Suddenly, Fippa’s skin prickled with needle-sharp heat. Panicked, she grabbed Ision’s arm.

He placed his hand over hers. What is it?

Fippa turned. The panic took her breath away. We must begin, Theano, she said in a hoarse whisper.

Theano quickly hung the other necklace around Ision’s neck. You deserve an explanation after what you have sacrificed to come here, Ision, but there is no time. Will you trust me?

Ision nodded, but Fippa tightened her grip on his hand. Painful heat sank deeper into her bones. A spasm hit her stomach, and she groaned in agony. Her palm turned cold, and her pale skin turned ashen gray.

The Cave’s music swelled with supernatural intensity as Fippa felt a fateful heaviness descend on her shoulders. Stabs of ferocious heat shot through her skin all the way to her marrow. Her knees buckled, but Ision held her close to his side. All remaining color drained from her face, and her eyes rolled back in her head.

They are coming! she rasped.

Theano grabbed Ision’s hand. We must hurry! They found us!

Ision lowered the ever-weakening Fippa to her knees just as a thunderbolt rumble and lightning flash demolished the Cave’s entrance. Smoke and fire exploded through the opening. Eudor whinnied in protest as rubble rained down. Ision shielded Fippa’s body with his own, and Theano took cover from the whirlwind of dirt and leaves.

Two shapely phantoms swirled from the dust and took flight. Their demonic shrieks swallowed the air and fought the Cave’s combative symphony. Suddenly, the musical dissonance stopped.

From the mouth of the grotto stepped Timeus of Thrace, the renegade priest of Delphi. A robust man, dark magic had cloaked his true age and made him as virile as any warrior. He towered above them; hatred chiseled his handsome face into a permanent glare. His body vibrated with confidence as he raised his hand and pointed to Ision.

"I will have you!" he shouted.

A fireball formed in Timeus’ other palm. He hurled it toward Ision. An orange flame, filled with the darkest magic, smashed the young warrior in the chest. Ision’s body contorted agonizingly backward. Timeus flicked his hand, and an invisible force seized Ision from behind