Lumas Rising: Book Two of the Firebird's Daughter series Read online

  Chapter Three – Chared’s Plea

  “What do you want from me?!” Chared’s throat hurt from screaming out the question over and over again, and still Amphedia refused to answer.

  Standing in the sea up to his waist, his chest heaving with exertion and emotion, he looked at the Tear in his hand again. He knew it was her doing that he had this in his hand right here, and right now, but he had no idea what she wanted him to do with it. Did she want him to just keep it for her, or was he supposed to use it?

  He shivered as the cool breeze flowed over him, his tangled hair obscuring his vision of the Tear held in his hand. He’d let it grow ever since his mother had awaken him, and his beard too. He knew he must look like some shipwrecked maniac whose boat had sunk beneath the seas with him still on it, but it didn’t matter. Not anymore. He’d once taken great care to groom himself so as to represent Amphedia with all due respect. He’d been a priest once. Was still one, in truth, now. He knew he could walk into the city square and many would listen carefully to all he had to say, judging their words, actions, and very lives against his own words. And they, too, would serve the Sea Goddess with the whole of their hearts.

  Why did Amphedia deny him? If only she would tell him what to do, he would do it, and gladly. He had tried to give his life to her many times, but she had yet to accept it. He had gathered hundreds of people together in her name, waiting for her to arrive so that she would know she was welcomed and honored in her city. When the temple doors had exploded outward, he had been standing right in front of them, chanting her name.

  As a flood of water had rushed forth from the temple, he had been hammered with huge slivers and spikes of the shredded wood, piercing the entire length of his body. He hadn’t been able to move, because the powerful deluge of water had pinned him to the wall with the wooden spikes of the ruined door. As Amphedia’s true sons, Savaar and Sabbah, had pummeled each other while in their liquid forms, he had been laying on the stairs of the temple, broken, his lifewaters pooling beneath him, his blood staining the steps. He’d been helpless, unable to move at all. His left hand and right leg had been broken, along with three or four of his ribs, and he’d been terribly cold. Numb. Ready to die. He’d thought he’d been hallucinating when he saw the Tear laying such a short distance away from his right hand. He realized he must have passed out, and when he woke up, he had it clenched tightly in his hand.

  Immediately, Chared noticed he’d felt better. His breath was no longer bubbling each time he exhaled, and the bleeding seemed to have stopped. Many were gathering close by as Jarles arrived, but he’d had no energy to concern himself with the great events happening around him. He was too weak, and wracked with pain. As soon as his body was healed enough that he was able to move, he quietly made his way away from the temple, hiding his face in the folds of his robe. He’d been concerned about leaving a trail of blood behind, worried others might follow him. But that fear, like so many others, had been unfounded. He continued to heal at an amazing pace, and soon the wounds were closed, leaving behind faint scars. He suspected it would be a very short time before even those were gone.

  He’d given thanks to Amphedia, knowing it was she who had put the Tear within his reach. Perhaps she had even laid the tear-shaped stone in his hand. A sincere smile of gratitude stole across his face every time he thought of her placing the Tear gently in his hand while he was unconscious. Perhaps she had even paused a moment to touch his face, or an errant lock of hair. It was, he knew, unlikely in the extreme that she had done so, but it gave Chared a deep sense of peace to imagine the scene nonetheless.

  How had he failed, then? Why would she not answer him now? What was he to do without her guidance or instruction?

  Wait! What was that? He cocked his head, listening. He could hear something. Even over the pounding of his own heart. Something on the wind. Was she coming at last? Perhaps she was sending a messenger. He knew in his heart of hearts it wouldn’t matter if she sent a sea turtle to fetch him, as long as she came. As long as she wanted him. If not, then there was no need to be alive at all, and he’d been wrong all along. But he could feel it. Something was coming. He could feel it as surely as if he had watched someone physically throw something at him, and he was waiting for it to arrive so he could catch it. The wind was picking up and the waves were standing taller all around him, no longer washing into shore and then back out again. He felt giddy and alive. He could feel the joy inside of him as the waves rose all around him, the wind pushing them in a circle, as if he was the center of the world.

  Closing his eyes, he threw his head back with his arms spread wide, and shouted her name. This time, with all of the joy he possessed. No more questions, fears, or worries. He was finally accepted! And oh – the deeds he would do in her name! She had but to point and he would go. She had but to lead and he would follow. He felt clean! Alive! Reborn! As the wind blew harder, the waves lifted him higher and higher, as if he was weightless. Never had anyone loved their gods more than Chared loved Amphedia in this moment in time.

  Secretly hoping he would open his eyes to find Amphedia towering above him in the waves, Chared allowed his eyes to open as he brought his head back up to see what, or who, it was the Storm Goddess had sent him. Unable to make sense of what he was seeing, he simply stared. He felt his eyes widen in disbelief, as his mouth opened to voice his protest, but none of those things stopped Oculis, in human form with wings, from smashing into him, driving the breath from his lungs. He felt his body falling back into the water as the waves rushed to cover him, the Tear falling from his hand. He grabbed for it, even as his heavier body fell faster than the small token of Amphedia’s sorrow tumbled away from him. As the waves closed over him, he saw a small owl swoop in to catch the Tear neatly in its talons before spreading its wings to fly back into the sky.

  Chared didn’t even fight the pull of gravity as the water closed over his face. He just closed his eyes, feeling all the exhilaration of the past moment leave him abruptly. Amphedia had not come for him. She had lied to him about wanting him to be her heir’s father, she had allowed his sister to be raped, she had left him to rot for more than twenty years, and then she had abandoned him. She had always abandoned him, only ever using him for her own means. He had killed over and over again in her name, always trusting she had a place for him in her plans. The truth, the sickening truth, was he had let her use and abuse him, and would have kept doing so for the rest of his unnatural life, if only she had once said she valued him. Instead, she had turned away from him.

  Chared felt his lungs protest the lack of air and tried not to care. He tried with all of his might to allow his body to fall to the floor of the sea to be examined and eaten by the fish and other creatures there. He tried to open his mouth to drink in the sea, as he’d done when he was so much younger. Instead, he found himself desperately seeking the surface. He didn’t want to live, but he had no idea how to drown himself when his own body betrayed him. As his head broke the surface, he felt two hands shove themselves into his armpits from behind, then he was lifted above the sea. Oculis, of course. He’d already gotten what he came for, why was he still here?

  It took only a moment or two for Oculis to take him to the shore, dropping him on the wet sand, where the waves could still reach him, but he was no longer in any danger of drowning. Whether he wanted to or not was an entirely different matter. Unable to stop himself, Chared climbed to his knees, coughing repeatedly, spitting and gagging until his lungs were clear again. He’d heard Oculis drop to the beach a short distance away, waiting patiently for him to finish. He didn’t remember coughing so much the last time he’d drowned. But, of course, Amphedia had wanted him that time. This time, it was painfully clear she did not.

  Sniffing as he wiped his face with his hands, Chared leaned back on his heels, moving his shoulders back and forth to ease the discomfort he felt there. He was embarrassed and angry, and loathe to look Oculis in the eyes, but he did it anyway. To his surprise, the other man
seemed genuinely concerned. There was no mockery in his eyes, nor pity either.

  “She has no more need of you,” Oculis told him. “But I do.” His yellow predator’s eyes looked directly into Chared’s, then he slowly held out his hand. “The people need water and gods who will give it to them. Come with me.”

  Deciding he had no reason not to, Chared took Oculis’ hand.

  Chapter Four – Practice Sessions

  The lizard meat was a little well done, but the tail would make a tasty snack later, Aidena knew. Still, she was looking forward to the day she would have enough spices and vegetables to make a real meal, instead of having to eat lizards and spiders all the time. It would have been easy for her to go back to her own village, or just about anywhere else she decided to visit, but she was determined to learn what she could about her powers, or talents, or whatever it was she was supposed to call the things she could do now. And the safest place she knew to do that, without worrying about hurting anyone was to be out here, in the desert, alone. As far as she knew, she was one of the few people left in the world who could still call water to her whenever she wished, so she had everything she needed, as long as she could find enough small prey to keep her body nourished.

  For some reason, the thought of having enough to eat and drink made her think of her daughter, Nieva. She seemed so composed and sure of herself when they’d last met. Much more mature than a small girl of seven should be. Instead of standing obediently next to her mother, or Siri Ventus, Nieva should have been bored out of her mind, or even frightened. She should have been asking to go play, or trying to wheedle sweets from her grandmother. Aidena sighed. Plural. Grandmothers. She still had no idea how it was possible, but Oculis had told her that Siri Ventus had possessed her mother’s human body so that she would be able to create an offspring. And heir. So that she, Aidena, could be born. Maybe one day she would have to ask one of her mothers about the whole thing, so she would have a better idea of who she really was.

  And Oculis. He was an owl and not an owl. He was a human … no, that probably wasn’t right. He was some kind of magical creature who could turn into a human, or wear a human form, or pass for a human … and was there any difference in those things? Did it matter how he could do it? Aidena thought it might be important if she was ever going to have to fight him. And why did she think she was going to have fight him? Probably because he was a jerk and had almost killed her, that’s why.

  “Arrrgh! This isn’t getting me anywhere!” Aidena stood up to pace, then remembered to remove the lizards off of the fire. She was going to have to eat at some point, whether she wanted to or not. Or was she? Did gods eat? Did they need food and water? If her mother was a goddess and her father was a magical creature, what did that make her?

  “Curious,” she answered herself out loud. “That makes me curious.” She put the stick with the three well-done lizards on the rocks to cool, then turned herself east, determined to get the explorations of her powers started. Turning east was a very ritualistic thing to do, she knew, but it seemed to agree with her, so she did it. She didn’t always do what others did if it didn’t agree with her, but since it didn’t disagree with her to turn east in this case, she let herself do it. Rituals among the people of her village – and quite a few other places, she had discovered – very often started by facing east to represent new beginnings. The sun rose in the east each day, so when one’s intention was to begin a new venture, they often did so by facing east. She bowed three times, automatically invoking Sov to give him thanks, then stilled herself, realization dawning.

  Sov. The Sun God. The father of all. The creator of their world. And the cause for all the destruction, if what Giya, Amphedia, and Siri Ventus said was true. Now what?

  “Denit!” she called out. “Where are you?”

  She hadn’t expected an answer, but paused to listen just the same. For all she knew, she could hear her, if she only knew how to listen. How was she supposed to help her if she didn’t even know where she was, or how to find her? Asking herself the question a dozen times had not produced an acceptable answer. Yet. Given that she was raised here, she’d thought that Denit would return to the desert and had hoped she would be able to find her by visiting the last few places they’d been together. Of course, Aidena had no way of knowing whether or not Denit was able to control her powers any better than she did, herself. She could be in the desert somewhere, and she might never find her.

  “Which is why I have to figure out what I can and cannot do!” she scolded herself. Still, even if she found Denit, how would she be able to help her? If she really was the daughter of Sov and Giya, then she was a goddess in her own right. Something about gods and a conversation they’d had together was niggling in the back of Aidena’s mind, and she wondered if it was possible that Giya and the rest of them really couldn’t do some of the things that they’d talked about. Why hadn’t Giya brought Drena back to the desert herself after she’d conceived Jarles? Why couldn’t Amphedia bring water to the desert for everyone? And why did Siri Ventus create storms instead of turning herself into one?

  Denit had been able to feel it through the ground when Kerr had snuck up on them … what if Giya could feel Denit no matter where she was? For that matter, what if Siri Ventus could feel where she was? And Denit had known where Jarles was too! Would she be more likely to want to stay near Jarles, or would she want to stay away from him? None of this was getting her anywhere. All she had was more questions, and no answers.

  “Sov! It all comes back to him, no matter what,” Aidena said, not realizing she was talking out loud as she began to pace, her head down, with one hand pinching and pulling her bottom lip. “Giya said it was his suggestion to create Denit, so he knows there is a problem, but I’m guessing he can’t do anything about it anymore than the rest of the gods can do … the things they can’t do.”

  Aidena stooped down to pick up a piece of the overcooked meat she’d prepared, absently chewing it as she continued her pacing.

  * * * * * * * *

  “Yes,” Eruitt answered Giya’s question. “I can feel him. He’s moving further away. Now he stopped. And now he’s moving closer to us again.”

  “Now try it on your own,” she told him, letting go of his hands. “Keep your eyes closed tightly.”

  Eruitt swallowed in a dry throat, knowing how important it was that he was able to feel Ramil moving through the ground. Being able to do this one small task would lead to much more, but for now, everything depended on his being able to feel Ramil as he moved. Giya assured him, repeatedly, that he should be able to do so because of the mud Ramil had rubbed on his eyes; it had, somehow, marked him as her own apprentice. But only if he was willing, she had told him with grave seriousness. She had chosen him because of P’onyem’s fondness for him, a fact which had made him smile all the way to his toes. He thought of her now, remembering her smile and her kindness.

  There! Was that movement? Or was it just his imagination? No. He could feel Ramil! He could! It was almost as if he could hear his footsteps with his bones, instead of his ears. Only different. No, he’d lost it again. P’onyem. He’d been thinking of P’onyem. Yes! There it was again.

  “He’s moving left,” Eruitt announced, a smile blooming on his face. “My left, not his,” he corrected himself, feeling excited. It felt very different when he was doing it on his own, than when Giya was holding his hands. It was much stronger with her help, but there was also too much … something. Just too much. Without her, the feeling of Ramil moving was fainter, but somehow clearer. Or cleaner? There wasn’t so much clutter. So many different heart beats, or maybe it was just so many different feelings of life itself. He could still feel her nearby, but the feel of her wasn’t as overbearing now as when she was holding his hands.

  “Closer. You’re coming closer now,” Eruitt announced, confident in what he was feeling. “And now you’ve stopped again.” Oh, he liked this! He could actually feel more of Ramil than just the fact that he was the
re and was moving, he could feel his lifeforce, and even his gladness that this was working.

  “Oh!” Suddenly there were too many things to feel all at once. Too many people. All around him. Everywhere! He was feeling too much and didn’t know how to stop it. His ability to feel the lifeforce around him expanded dramatically, as if he was suddenly everywhere all at once. He could hear shouting, and was pretty sure someone was shaking him, but it was impossible to know for sure, because he was too full! His mind, his heart, his body was just too full. He tried to open his eyes, but he couldn’t remember how. And then the fire rose up to take him and he screamed.

  * * * * * * * *

  Batal watched the owl fly away, then closed the window, leaving the curtain open. She wondered how long it would be before she would see the night sky again. Or the beautiful moon hanging there, looking down at her. The thinnest sliver of Lumas was shining brightly tonight. The new moon. How appropriate. New beginnings. Batal shook her head, feeling a shiver pass through her. Everything was about to change. Everything around her was already changing. Nothing would be the same again.

  She’d already made the decision. No matter her vows, or the cost. That didn’t stop her from hoping she was making the right choice. She would sleep in her own bed tonight, probably for the last time. She had no idea what to expect. If she would be strong enough to still be herself, or if that would change too. And if it did, if she changed into someone she didn’t want to be, would she even know she had? She only knew that if she going to join Oculis, it was going to be on her own terms. She wouldn’t be following him blindly.

  It was harder and harder to breathe the air, and most of her skin had reverted back to scales. Whatever Kaya and Jarles had done to change her back into her human self hadn’t worked. She had made the conscious choice when Sabbah was trying to kill Savaar to accept whatever consequences using the Tear would bring, and she stood by that choice now. She had pledged to keep Savaar safe, and she’d done that. But if she was going to have to live the rest of her life in the sea, with scales, fins, and gills, she was going to do it on her own terms.