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Authors: Kevin L. Nielsen

Storms (Sharani Series Book 2) (18 page)

BOOK: Storms (Sharani Series Book 2)
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“How am I supposed to do that?” Gavin shouted after her.

Khari chuckled. Gavin had almost forgotten she was there. There was humor in her eyes, which was nice to see though Gavin wished it hadn’t come at his expense.

“Well, I’d trying calling one if I were you,” she said. “If you’re lucky, one will come.”

Gavin gave her a flat look. Life was rarely that simple. “And how would you suggest I do that?”

“Whistle.”

“Whistle?”

Khari nodded. “We’ll see if one of them comes. Normally we’d keep you here, break you, let you help raise one and form a bond, but there are no clutches to be born right now.”

Gavin got the sense that there was something else going on here, some sort of test or joke at his expense. Putting on his best storyteller’s face, Gavin pursed his lips and let out a shrill whistle.

A few of the aevians stirred, turning to look at him, but none moved beyond that.

“Try again.”

Gavin whistled again. This time, something moved at the top of the eyrie wall, a massive white aevian leapt from high up the cliffs, a screech that echoed through the chamber accompanying the dive. The white aevian, the one who had killed Maugier’s man, alighted before them, wind from the creature’s beating wings tossing sands into the air and foot-long talons clicking against the rock.

“Hello there,” Gavin breathed, feeling awed and more than a little stunned.

Gavin stepped forward, reaching out a hand that he was surprised to see was trembling slightly. Since the battle of the Oasis, since he’d seen that first wave of aevians plunging from the sky, riders on their backs, he’d secretly longed to feel the joy of flight, to feel the freedom and liberation of that experience. It was a deep-seated desire in the human soul to fly, to find freedom, to soar.

Khari’s hand shot out and gripped Gavin around the wrist in a vice-like grip. “Don’t touch him.” she growled. “He is not yours.”

Gavin took a step back, trying to free his arm from her grip, but it was like stone about his wrist.

“Let go of me, Khari,” Gavin said, keeping his voice calm. “You told me to whistle, he came.”

Above them, the aevian hissed and clicked its talons against the rock. Khari looked over at the creature and Gavin was surprised to see tears in the woman’s eyes.
Tears?
Khari was typically a rock solid woman, the only emotions easily determined anger or irritation.

“He’s barely gone, Nabil,” Khari whispered. “Barely gone. You’d choose another already?”

Gavin realized what was happening in a sudden flash of understanding. Her husband had been the last one to ride the aevian, Nabil. Makin Qays had been slaughtered by Kaiden in the battle of the Oasis. He’d died with honor, though he’d never really stood much of a chance. Khari hadn’t ever shown the pain she was going through, though it was obvious now that she’d been simply masking it, allowing it to fester beneath the surface.

Her grip slackened on his wrist and Gavin pulled his arm free and stepped back, allowing Khari some space. She stepped up to the aevian, placing a hand on one of his wings and gently stroking the black-speckled feathers there.

“He was a man of honor,” Khari whispered. “A leader. You and he kept us safe for decades. You’re old, Nabil. You can rest now, you know. You don’t have to take a new rider.”

The aevian clicked his beak and make a soft series of clicks and chirps as if he was responding to Khari’s words, as if he understood. Looking up at the majestic creature, Gavin wasn’t entirely sure it couldn’t.

“Are you sure you want to do this? This boy, he is still young, still learning.”

Boy?

Nabil chirped, softly and lifted a wing, brushing Khari’s arm. The woman sniffed, nodded, and then rounded on Gavin.

“You treat him better than you would a lover, Gavin,” Khari said. “Or by the sands of the seven hells, I’ll make you regret it.”

Gavin swallowed and nodded. Khari seemed content with that answer for she gestured toward the aevian with one hand before turning on her heel and marching across the sands to one of the storage bins near the far wall. Gavin hesitated, unsure how to proceed from there.

The aevian, though, was far less indecisive. Nabil leaned down until they were standing with eyes level, the aevian’s beak only inches from Gavin’s nose. Gavin breathed in and out slowly, returning the scrutiny. Proud eyes met Gavin’s gaze, black orbs steeped in wisdom. Gavin swallowed again, feeling suddenly small and insignificant.

“Well, come on then,” Khari said gruffly, arriving with another saddle and destroying the moment Gavin was having with the aevian. “Pay attention while I put the saddle on here. I won’t show you how to do it again.”

Nabil blinked and shuffled back before hunkering down for Khari to place the saddle on him. Gavin paid careful attention, though he was finding it hard to focus. The saddle was worn in places and there was a bloodstain on the leather, but the straps fit Nabil without any adjustment, which lead Gavin to assume it had been the one Makin Qays had used.

Once the saddle was secured, Khari handed Gavin a harness with a few extra leads for him to put on. He did so and then turned to Khari expectantly. She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yes?”

“What now?” Gavin asked.

“Now you fly. You’d better be quick about it too, or else Farah will leave you behind.”

“But you haven’t even shown me anything about flying at all!” Gavin protested. “How do I get up there? How do I stay on . . .” He trailed off as Nabil shifted and stuck out a wing.

If he used that to step up . . . he stopped thinking and simply did it, putting a foot against the wing joint and launching himself up into the saddle. From there it was obvious where each lead hooked in and he strapped himself down. He glanced down at Khari, who wore an odd expression on her face, half amusement, half sorrow.

“He’ll respond to your whistles,” Khari said softly. “Whistle once and he’ll come to you. Whistle twice and he’ll return to the eyrie. Farah will teach you the others later. Now fly.”

She made a gesture and whistled sharply. Nabil launched into the sky.

Gavin reacted by instinct. He latched onto the saddle’s handle and a scream of pure joy was wrenched from his throat. His stomach turned over as Nabil climbed upward a few feet and then folded his wings to his back and began turning downward.

His stomach flipped over itself a few feet from the ground. Nabil spread his wings and beat downward to pull himself out of the dive. Momentum carried Gavin forward and he thought he was going to smack face-first into Nabil’s broad back or the saddle itself, but the tethers attached to the back of his harness held him place and he only experienced a moment of fierce vertigo as Nabil climbed back in to the air.

Wind screamed in Gavin’s ears and he felt the power in each of Nabil’s wing strokes. If Gap-tooth had been able to experience this, had been able to feel the absolute strength in each stroke of Nabil’s wings, he never would have thought he could steal one of these amazing creatures.

Nabil climbed higher, rising far faster now than he had earlier. He turned in long, slow spirals as he flapped upward. Gavin felt the warmer currents of air pushing upward as well. He looked out toward the Forbiddence. He knew it ran in a giant, impenetrable circle around the whole of the Sharani Desert, but he’d never been in a position to actually see it like this, stretching in massive arcs in all directions. Below him, looking like insects, he saw the Rahuli clansmen marching across the desert in three distinct groups, aevians and their riders winging in the air above them, though beneath Gavin and Nabil.

Nabil let out a screech and Gavin found himself giving an answering shout, screaming against the wind. He let go of the saddle and threw his hands into the air, eyes wide, a smile creasing his face.
This
was what he was made for.
This
was pure, unadulterated freedom and majesty. It was nothing like he had expected it to be. It was a hundred times, a thousand times more liberating.

After the stress, fear, and emotion of the last few weeks, after struggling to figure out how to live up to the expectations thrust upon him by his grandmother, after fighting to gain control of a people who refused to be led, this was pure liberation. The stress washed out of him, left below on the sands. The fear, the latent burning self-doubt which had wormed its way into his decisions and actions, fell victim to the joy and relief that surged through him now.

A shadow passed by the sun and Gavin searched the sky to see what had created it. Talyshan and Farah surged upward through the air near them. Gavin whooped and waved and he saw Farah laugh in return though he couldn’t hear the sound. She looked wonderful there on Talyshan’s back, hair streaming out behind her and face backlit by the sun. She smiled over at him and made a gesture for him to follow her. Gavin had no idea how to direct Nabil, but the aevian must have understood, for he followed as Farah directed Talyshan around to the left.

Nabil surged forward through the air, wings flapping hard through the air until he came up alongside Talyshan, flying parallel to the smaller aevian. A dozen spans separated the two birds as they flew.

Gavin looked down at the sands, noting the plateaus sticking up out of the sands at regular intervals. If things had been normal, some of them would have housed the Rahuli clans. Gavin had visited them infrequently, typically only when his grandmother had contracted some sort of entertainment, but even then they didn’t stay within the warren itself. Usually they’d take shelter beneath one of the stoneways or else attempt to clandestinely live within the confines of the Oasis on little rafts. That had rarely worked long, though they’d attempted it a time or two. Living in a warren, with the Roterralar, was a new luxury for Gavin.

Farah shouted something indecipherable and pointed toward one of the plateaus. Gavin nodded and shifted his weight that direction, mirroring the movements he’d seen Farah perform to get Talyshan to go where she wanted. Nabil moved with him, mimicking his shifting weight.

Talyshan moved into a dive. Gavin leaned forward and Nabil folded his wings and dove toward the plateau. Gavin felt a rush as his pulse raced. The ground seemed to zoom upward toward them and the wind tore at Gavin’s eyes, making them water though he forced them to stay open. He sensed Nabil preparing to pull out of the dive a moment before it happen, which gave him the chance to prepare himself.

Nabil stretched out his wings, slowing in a rush and causing Gavin’s stomach to flop. The straps holding him to the saddle strained, but held and Nabil landed on the plateau with the click of talon against stone. Talyshan landed next to them and Gavin was able to hear Farah’s wonderful bell-like laugh floating over to him. He returned the laugh, feeling the wonderful, sweet sense of relief and joy.

Farah unclipped from the saddle and leapt the several feet to the ground. Gavin did the same and leapt, much less gracefully, down to the ground. He hit the rock hard—he’d fallen a greater distance—but kept his footing and then leapt up and raced around Nabil and grabbed Farah in an exuberant embrace. Her face showed her surprise, but she didn’t pull away. Gavin let go quickly, realizing that he’d let himself get caught up in the moment, but the feel of her lingered.

“What did you think?” she asked with a grin. “You’re a natural at it.”

“That,” Gavin said, “was the most wonderful thing I’ve ever done.” He wasn’t sure if he meant the flight or the embrace, but didn’t care.

Chapter 12
Stories on the Sand

“The second Iteration of metal is the Earth Ward. Possessing all the abilities of the earlier Iteration, the Earth Wards are the first of the Orinai Great Ones, as they call themselves. They are masters of the living earth itself.”

—From
Commentary on the
Schema, Volume I

 

Gavin looked out over the Sharani Desert a few hours later, feet hanging off the edge of the plateau, munching on a piece of flat bread and salted, dried meat. Farah sat near him, staring out over the red, shifting sands. A few storm clouds obscured a portion of the horizon, hiding a piece of the Forbiddence from view. Talyshan and Nabil rested behind them, though apart from one another. Talyshan gave the larger aevian a wide berth at all times, though it was not fear that drove him. At least Gavin didn’t think it was fear. It appeared to him that it was more deference and respect.

He’d spend a couple glorious hours adjusting to flying before Farah had signaled them to land.

“Khari wants us to complete a circuit of the Forbiddence and then swing back around to the Oasis as soon as you can handle Nabil,” Farah said. “Keep your eyes open for signs of Kaiden or those other fellows who helped him get loose.”

Gavin nodded and swallowed his food so he could speak. “Alright. How long should that take us?”

“Two or three days. You’re doing well enough now that we really should get going after them.”

Gavin froze with food halfway to his mouth. Two or three days? That meant they’d have to sleep out here, just the two of them, for at least two entire nights. As if hearing his thoughts, Farah turned to look at him.

“Don’t get any funny ideas, outcast,” she said with a grin. “You’ll sleep under your own blanket.”

“I—well—I—” Gavin stammered. “Well, of course I will.”

Farah let out a bell-like laugh and pulled her long, blonde hair back before tying it in place with a thin cord. “Well, come along then.”

They flew for a few hours, heading west. Gavin’s mouth went dry from the hot, parched air after the first hour. By the second, he was as thirsty as he had ever been in his life. Gavin studied the ground as he passed over it from above, marveling at the symmetry of it. He had never been in this part of the Sharani Desert, but it looked remarkably similar to sections through which he
had
traveled on foot with his grandmother and the other outcasts. The landscape below them was a mass of shifting sands, though the strange storms had left a trail, washing away the sand and leaving boulders exposed in an otherwise unbroken landscape of dunes. Where the storms had been recent, strange pathways were cut into the sand where water had run in little streams.

Farah signaled the descent and Gavin followed her down. It was a simpler process now, after having mastered the basics of directing Nabil’s flight. The large white aevian seemed to be enjoying himself and the flight. Gavin was as well. After weeks stuck inside the Roterralar Warren, making a fool of himself trying to be the leader his grandmother had wanted, it was wonderful to be out in open air again. Though dry and hot, at least it was fresh.

They landed next to a small outcropping of rocks on the sand and Gavin hopped from the saddle. He was rather ill-prepared for this trip, but Farah didn’t seem to have any more possessions with her than did he and, in all honesty, Gavin had lived with less before. Even having a complete set of clothes that all went together was a luxury he hadn’t experienced before.

“I don’t suppose you know where we could get a drink?” Gavin croaked.

Farah laughed and hopped from Talyshan’s back on to the sands below. How could she laugh so clearly with her throat so dry? It was all Gavin could do to speak. He undid the leads holding him to the saddle and slid down onto the ground. His landing was much less graceful, more of a clomp than a graceful pounce, but thankfully, Farah wasn’t looking. She was busy scampering up the rock outcropping. Gavin hesitated, then followed after her.

“Where are you going?” Gavin called.

“Come on up here and see,” she said.

Gavin sighed and climbed up. By the time he arrived, Farah was leaning over a wide hole in the stone. A large red rock sat to one side.

“Give me a hand with this, will you?” Farah said when he arrived.

Curious, Gavin walked over and leaned down, noticing a rope in Farah’s hand. The rope extended down into the darkness, but light glinted off of something down in the depths.

“A well?” Gavin asked, taking the rope from Farah and hauling on it. It was heavier than he’d expected.

“Why else do you think we’d be here?” Farah asked, laughing. She leaned down next to him, her blond hair brushing his face, and reached one arm down into the well. Gavin hesitated with his pulling and breathed in her sweet scent, glad she couldn’t see his blush, but she was quickly back up and holding a largish bundle wrapped in coated leathers.

“Keep pulling, water boy,” she said, stepping to the side.

Gavin couldn’t help himself. He chuckled. It took him nearly a minute of pulling before the rope started getting wet. His hands were just starting to ache, so he enjoyed the coolness on his aching palms. He could see the bag, only a few feet below, a contraption of leather and metal, though he was positive that both had been treated with some sort of wax or other material to make them at least semi water resistant. He reached down, seized the bag by the handle, and pulled it free.

“Here,” Farah said, tossing him a pair of waterskins. “Fill these.”

He did so, awkwardly holding the larger bag with one hand while holding the other steady with his right. Gavin noticed Farah watching him and saw the edges of her mouth tug up into a smile, but he persisted anyway, filling them both and managing only to get a little wet in the process. Thankfully, the sun dried the spilled water away almost instantly.

“You’re not like the other men I’ve known, Gavin,” Farah said. “There are moments when you seem like one of the most honorable and decent men I’ve ever known. Then in the next breath you’re as innocent and clumsy as a small child. It’s intriguing.”

Gavin wasn’t sure how to respond to that. It irritated him, just a little, but at the same time she was probably right. As an outcast, he hadn’t had any time to learn what to do in large groups. He was simply doing the best he could and struggling through learning new things as a child might.

Still, he opened and closed his mouth a few times, half a dozen different responses going through his head before he settled on one.

“Do Talyshan and Nabil need any?” Gavin asked, once he had managed to stopper the last of the two waterskins.

Farah shook her head, but didn’t look up from where she was busy sorting through the remainder of the package’s contents. “No. They get all the moisture they need from the food they eat. They ate just before we left.”

“So should I just . . . ?” Gavin made a vague gesture toward the well, then realized Farah wasn’t looking at him. “Should I put this back, then?”

“Yes. And make sure you put the stone back over the top.” She was sorting the contents of the package into two piles. Gavin took a brief moment to study it—mostly foodstuffs, some knives, and other odds and ends—before lowering the bag back into the well.

“How many of these do you have out here?” Gavin asked as the rope slipped between his fingers.

“About a score or so. We lose one or two to the sands each year, but Khari is pretty good at finding new ones or locating some of the ones we’ve lost. Part of the patrols’ job is to check on these and make sure they’re all still in working order. And it keeps us from having to take as many supplies with us when we start out.”

“These would have been nice to know about,” Gavin said. “I mean, before. Finding water was the hardest part about being an outcast.” He let his gaze drift off over the sands, seeing the heat mirages distort the sky and landscape behind them.

“How
did
you manage that?” Farah asked. She looked up from her work and turned to face him, expression sincerely curious. “I’ve always wondered.”

Gavin blinked his eyes back into focus and grinned at the memories her question brought.

“We’d barter for water sometimes. Since trust is more precious than water, the clans didn’t have to trust us in order to trade water with us. Most refused, but we sometimes got what we needed. The Mornal were actually pretty good about it.”

“There’s no way you were able to barter for the water you need. There were what, nearly a score of you altogether?”

Gavin shrugged. “Sometimes they were generous.”

“Come on, water boy. You can’t expect me to believe you survived on what you could get off the clans? They’d as soon kill you for drinking their spit as give you more than a drop of water.” She gave him a piercing flat look and Gavin shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny.

“Well,” Gavin said, finally letting go of the rope as the bag reached the water far below, “sometimes we cheated.”

Farah raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t think it really matters much anymore, but it was the biggest secret we outcasts shared.”

A look of comprehension dawned on Farah’s face. “You violated the blood oaths, didn’t you? You went into the Oasis during the Dormancy?” The look she gave him was halfway between stunned disbelief and approval.

Gavin shrugged. “Yes, sometimes we did. We were tossed out of clans or else were children and grandchildren of those who no longer had the protection of a warren’s walls. We didn’t take the oaths ourselves, so why should we bother honoring them?”

“But the oaths?” Farah stammered, then stopped. “You’re right. In retrospect, what are some oaths when compared to someone’s life? How’d you manage it with all the rains and flooding?” As she spoke, Farah turned back to the items she’d been arranging and began stuffing them into one of two small sacks that had also been in the package.

Gavin let out a small chuckle. “Well, that was complicated sometimes. Mostly we just collected enough water to get by and moved on. I remember once, when I was young, we tried to stay there for a few weeks.”

“Tried?”

Memories of the rains collapsing the roofs of the small huts they’d built and washing away the little rafts flitted through his mind. As a child, he’d thought it entertaining. Looking back, he realized just how desperate they’d been in order to try something like that in the first place.

“It didn’t work out so well.”

Farah shook her head, then laughed softly. “I knew there had to be something. And people called
us
the wayward ones.”

“We were far less memorable. I mean, how did
you
get away with not being spotted before? You’re riding great giant beasts through the sky, for sand’s sake.”

Farah licked her lips before answering, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “We really didn’t send out aevian patrols much during the Dormancy. When we did, we flew high enough that most people wouldn’t have noticed us. Besides, if you hadn’t seen them yourself, would you have believed anyone telling you about people riding around on giant birds?”

“Good point.”

Farah shook her head and then handed Gavin one of the sacks. “Take this and one of the skins. It should last you until tomorrow. There’s a small cave in the Forbiddence wall we’ll try and get to tonight. It’s still a couple hours out.”

Gavin took the sack and tossed Farah one of the waterskins. He set the sack aside and pushed the large stone back over the well’s mouth, grunting at the weight. He felt a small smile growing on his own face too. It felt good to laugh and to talk about fun, interesting things instead of worrying about the politics and safety of an entire people. It was almost like being with his grandmother and the other outcasts again, but better because Farah was closer to his own age and he felt comfortable around her. She was hard to understand sometimes and more than a little confusing, but there was a brightness and spirit to her that reminded him of his grandmother. His smile grew and the stone slid into place with a soft grating sound.

“I guess you outcast types aren’t as strong and hardy as you look,” Farah said, standing up and starting back down the outcropping.

Gavin stared after her, a retort half formed on his lips, then dismissed it as the sound of her soft laugh drifted up to him. She had such a pretty laugh.

BOOK: Storms (Sharani Series Book 2)
8.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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