Excerpt: The UnderLand Saga

Dassia

The deep reverberating thrum of the bone-pipe, standing firmly at helm upon the Junan dhow, made clear the message that the trip back to Middle Juna and the Holy Seven would not wait.

And yet, the founder of the Holy Seven, its eldest member and leader, stood with his back to the dhow, gazing down at the Lord of Dassia's obsidian face.

"So," Psilocybe whispered. "You say I must remain, Neptune?"

Neptune nodded soberly, his red-ringed amber eyes stark and forbidding. His gilt hair flowed around his head and down his shoulders in liquid ringlets. "I'm terribly sorry to inconvenience you, Psilocybe," he murmured. "But you simply must remain to care for the young man from your land."

Psilocybe's blue eyes glinted iridescently, like polished abalone. "I see. There is grave importance in this task, then." Turning his head, he lifted a slender amphora-shaped flute to his lips, and trilled a gentle tone.

To him in a flurry of feathers, a young white dove flew and landed upon his shoulder, cooing pleasantly and latch-walking down the length of his arm. With her, a snowy raptor owl arrived and seated himself benignly on Psilocybe's cap.

"My friends," Psilocybe said to the birds, "you must give the message of this to the Host of the Holy Seven. They number but five now, without me--and the cursed one----"

At this, Neptune's eyes flared like flames, and he drew his ebony cloak around himself warningly. "Do not say his name," he hissed, "or you won't make it back in any case, old friend."

"But of course." Psilocybe turned his attention back to the birds. "You have a parchment for me, Castor?"

The snowy raptor opened his talons to present the Brobdinagian with a leaflet of vellum, and Psilocybe took it with a barren smile upon his lips. Lightly his fingertips danced upon the parchment, and then he rolled it tightly, setting it with a glowing green ring.

"Take this to the Five," Psilocybe whispered, and held out his hand. The dove's small claws seized upon the message and closed tightly around it. "And you," he said to Castor, "protect Muca with your life. She will be the familiar of the new Fourth of the Seven when the two of you return."

"You have someone to take his position?" Neptune grinned. "Let us hope your novice does not occupy himself in the way the other did."

"There will be no difficulty," Psilocybe murmured, and lifted Castor and Muca into a hand. Muca clung to Castor's back, and the raptor owl prepared to lift off. "I wish you both health," he whispered to them, and with a great volley, threw them forward into the air, where Castor caught the thermals above and soared upon the wind, away from Psilocybe and Neptune's eyes.

The bone-pipe roared again, and Psilocybe strode to the ship.

"I cannot accompany," he whispered to the Gaean tending it, "but here is your return price so you are not inconvenienced on my behalf." He pressed a richly-embroidered purse into the man's hand, tinkling with gild. "Safe journeys, for you and all upon the sea who align with good."

"Thank you, Elder Psilocybe," the Gaean called, and blew the departure-whistle. The men at prow stretched their oars upon the sea, and the dhow laboriously passed over the waves.

-

"And now," Psilocybe said gently, "we will go, Neptune..., and hope against all that my people will be safe when I am to return to the Under-Land......the young Pendragon will keep my cabal safe upon that day."