Sea God of the Sands: Book One of the Firebird’s Daughter Series (Firebird's Daughter 1)

by Kyrja

  He still didn’t understand what his grandfather expected to be able to accomplish with the teardrop-shaped stone he called “Amphedia’s Tear.” He’d decided to ignore all the speculation the others had put forth for the time being; he would ask Savaar about it once he met back up with him. He did wonder, though, how he’d gotten it. He had never mentioned it. Not once in all the years they’d been together. Grandpa Kerr said his own father had given it to him, just before he’d died, and that his father had been reluctant, even then, to relinquish it. Jarles could tell by the way he looked at it when he held that it was important to him, but it felt strange that he’d lived with the man for most of his own life and had never known about it. It felt more than strange, he admitted to himself; it made him suspicious of his grandfather in a way that was decidedly uncomfortable. Why would he hide it from him, especially knowing that everyone – including him – thought he was Amphedia’s heir? Was his grandfather afraid he would try to take it from him? He knew the old man liked, no, reveled , in feeling important in front of other people, so if this “Tear” was so important, or rare, or mysterious, why hadn’t he boasted of it, instead of keeping it secret? And why bring it out now?

  He said he’d been so worried for him, that he was willing to finally put it to the test, to see if he could become a true child of Amphedia in an attempt to rescue him. Jarles shook his head – yet again. Something just didn’t add up, but for the life of him, he couldn’t see what was missing. He didn’t particularly care for mysteries in the first place, but mysteries that involved Amphedia were his least favorite. Gods and goddesses were not his favorite people, he knew.

  Meeting Giya, though, he had to admit, had been an exciting experience. He had felt the difference in her, just standing near her. He’d finally raised himself up on to his hands and knees, spitting out the sand he’d gotten in his mouth when he had been so ungently dumped onto the sand after being yanked from his seclusion in the sea. He’d been shaking, trying to make sense of who and where he was, while trying to remember to breathe air again. And suddenly everything just shifted. Instead of feeling weak and dazed, he’d been filled with the sensation of being strong, healthy, and whole. He could certainly breathe better. Easier. He’d felt her presence there, behind the others as if she filled the space she occupied with a sense of wellness. Of being complete. There was a solidness to the very air around her that touched everyone around her. He heard everyone make a collective gasp together that was more akin to a unexpected blast of cool air on a very hot day than an unpleasant surprise. It was a quiet gasp of joy, without even having known why they were doing it.

  He had looked up just as the others, Grandpa Kerr, Maw’ki, and Aidena, all turned, seeking out the source of the surprising sensation. It had been Maw’ki who’d reacted first, surprising him, and probably everyone else too, by suddenly dropping to her knees. Even from his position, still on his hands and knees, he saw her bow her head in the dark stillness of the night, making a small moaning sound that sounded to him like a small child afraid of punishment for something she’d done wrong.

  Indeed, Giya had been displeased with her for having brought him so far away from the city, when he was needed there sooner rather than later. Giya had looked down at his grandmother, her stern expression turning softer as she held out one hand to stroke her face. He felt, rather than heard Maw’ki say she was sorry, astonished at the tears running down her face. He’d felt a moment of pure bliss watching the two of them, and a terrible pang of loss, knowing he would never feel the caress of his own mother’s hand upon his cheek again.

  Giya had dropped her hand, then, making her way over to where he was, as he’d sat back slowly on his heels, uncertain whether he should rise, or stay where he was. Aidena and Grandpa Kerr hadn’t moved, he’d noticed. They were still standing, but turned to watch as the Goddess of Earth had approached him.

  “You don’t belong here,” she told him, not unkindly, her hands folded together in front of her, her deep eyes so utterly alive with life. He’d thought he could stay right where he was, for the rest of his life, just looking into her eyes. He’d felt a bone-deep peace then, a laying down of all fears and concerns. Peace. He was pretty sure that moment had been what true peace felt like. Would that he could return to that moment in time and simply remain there, on his knees, in front of Giya.

  That hadn’t happened though, of course. She’d told them to choose no more than three of the people in the caravan to accompany them, turning to his grandfather to admonish him to choose wisely in whom he would choose to replace him in leading the people back home, into the desert. He could tell his grandfather had been livid, wanting to argue with her, but he’d held his peace, surprising everyone, Jarles thought. Despite his own sense of awe, though, Jarles had asked, “Why back to the desert? They’ll all die without water.”

  Turning her gaze once more to him, she said, “You’ll need them there.” He’d felt the burden then. The heavy burden of his silence. She couldn’t possibly know he’d planned to put Savaar forward as Amphedia’s heir. He’d kept his silence, though, knowing Savaar would listen to him, and would make sure the Tuq’deb had the water they needed once he took control of the seas. He refused to listen to the voices in his head, taunting him, asking him how he could be sure what Savaar would do, when he might very well have his own plans. Or he might not survive if Amphedia refused their choice. There were so many ways their plan could fail.

  Unaware of his internal turmoil, Giya had turned her attention back to his grandfather, fixing her gaze deep into his eyes, as if looking for something. To Jarles’ surprise, he had borne the scrutiny without complaint or any sign of discomfort. He’d had the distinct impression this was not their first meeting, but if pressed, wouldn’t be able to say why he felt that way. He supposed it was because he would have expected his grandfather to squirm or protest, or at least to make some kind of statement or inquiry. Nor did he seem overly intimidated by the fact that he was staring down a goddess – a being who could probably turn him to sand where he stood without blinking an eye. Never before had he seen his grandfather act so … serene. It had been more than a little unnerving to Jarles, especially when he realized that he’d been holding his breath, ready to intervene on his grandfather’s behalf. He had known he was waiting for his grandfather to act out in some ill-mannered, perhaps even dangerous, way – and he hadn’t. He had been entirely composed. To Jarles, his grandfather’s behavior had been highly-suspicious.

  Nor had Aidena escaped Giya’s scrutiny. He, of course, had missed much during his time in the water, both before and after Aidena had been rescued, but Savaar had left out a small detail when he’d found him in his isolation. Amphedia’s son had failed to mention Aidena’s very interesting parentage. No matter how Jarles tried to excuse him for the omission, the fact that Aidena’s mother was the Goddess of Air was disconcerting to say the least. It was more disturbing to Jarles, however, that Savaar had failed to mention it to him. He had asked the man … god … whatever he was, he had asked Savaar about Aidena, but he hadn’t mentioned the storm, nor the revelation that she was the presumed heir of Siri Ventus, nor the fact that her father was probably an enchanted owl who did the bidding of his divine mistress who could change form into a human. He wasn’t altogether convinced any of this should have made it possible for her to have breached the protective barrier Amphedia always erected around his body when she snatched him away to underwater locations, though.

  “You have much to learn,” was Giya’s admonishment to her when the goddess had turned her gaze to Aidena. To her credit, the girl had immediately asked who she was supposed to turn to for lessons. Jarles smirked even now, remembering how she had stood her ground. He liked Aidena and hoped she would turn out to be someone he could trust. But he had also liked Giya’s calm response: “Air begins with the wind. Start there.” Aidena hadn’t appreciated the advice, he could tell from the confusion on her face, but he thought maybe he understood what Giya was hinti
ng at. In his mind, at least, he could see her leaning into the wind, feeling the air rush past her, and allowing herself to simply go with it. He could actually see her becoming the wind in his mind’s eye. A normal man or woman wouldn’t be able to do more than to enjoy the feel of the wind on their face and body, but Jarles was betting Aidena would actually be able to do it. If she allowed herself to. He had almost said something to her a couple of times, but then thought better of it. He doubted he would want her to try and explain how his own abilities worked either. She wasn’t the one who had to live with them, after all. So he’d left her alone. Either she would figure it out, or she wouldn’t. It wasn’t up to him to have all the answers to everything.

  In fact, he had rather enjoyed the last few days, with little to do other than to walk, help set up camp, and worry. Giya had told them, when they’d started out, she could not simply make them disappear from one place and re-appear in another. If Jarles was honest with himself, that is exactly what he had expected her to be able to do, so was surprised to learn he, and the rest of their party, had to walk from the dune where Maw’ki had brought him, all the way to the city by the harbor. Under normal circumstances, it would have taken them about a month to cover the ground, but Giya’s magic had made it possible for them to traverse the land at a much quicker pace. He wasn’t altogether certain whether his legs were walking all that much faster, or if the ground itself had moved under their feet, bring them to their destination in just a few days. The strangest thing was that he hadn’t felt as if he had done anything differently than he’d done a thousand times before, nor had the land seemed to have moved any differently under them. But each time they stopped, they had traveled a very long distance. They’d had to agree to only stop together, or it would have been possible for one of them to have been left behind in very short order.

  Adjusting his qatyeh yet again, and wondering where his grandfather had procured it, given that his own had been left behind sometime while he’d been unconscious, he noticed Maw’ki looking his way again, then looking away once he’d seen her looking. He’d never seen her act so strangely as she’d been doing since she’d brought him out of the sea. The meeting with Giya had obviously unsettled her, as if she no longer felt confident about much of anything. If the goddess had chastised her privately, he hadn’t heard about it. He’d learned she had brought him out of the sea on an impulse to stop his grandfather from seeking him out using the “Tear” he had in his possession, but it wasn’t as if she had done anything wrong. Just inconvenient, and even that difficulty had been solved through the simple act of walking. It didn’t look like the city was in an uproar. There weren’t any riots in the street, nothing was on fire, and it seemed as though everything was calm and quiet.

  His thoughts turned to the three other companions they’d brought with them, as Giya had suggested. Two males his own age, Ramil and Ishra, along with a female by the name of Easif, who was probably a few years older than he was. They’d kept mostly to themselves, so he hadn’t gotten to know any of them very well yet. Even when they had stopped each night, everyone had been too exhausted to do more than eat whatever they’d brought with them and lay down to rest for a few, short hours, before setting out again. There had been no fire, nor did anyone seem to want to sit around talking, when they could be sleeping.

  Jarles had to admit, he’d been both surprised and pleased his grandfather hadn’t insisted on bringing three of the elders with them; he didn’t care for most them very much anyway, and he was sure they would have all wanted to stay awake each night, intent on putting their own plan forward on how they should proceed. He wondered what his grandfather had told everyone in the caravan when he’d been ordered by Giya to have them return to the desert, and how he’d managed to have escaped without allowing any of the elders to come along. He was pretty sure that if he ever saw them again, they would each have an earful of complaints for him. He smiled to himself, glad his grandfather was along, no matter how strangely he was acting. He’d known the old man had wanted him to come to the city for a long time now, and wondered how he felt now that they were here. Lifting his head, Jarles turned around, towards the place where he’d been pacing for the past hour, to ask him, surprised to discover he wasn’t there.

  “He went for a walk,” Maw’ki told him, before he asked. She shrugged saying, “He said he was going to find something to eat.” Jarles noticed she wasn’t looking at him, but at a handful of grass she’d been picking at, knowing she wasn’t being truthful.

  “Where did he really go?” he asked, his tone tense. What was the point in lying, he wondered. Grandpa Kerr would do whatever he wanted to do, no matter whether anyone else thought it was wise or not. He was absolutely certain Maw’ki knew that. Why lie – unless she approved of whatever he was doing, but thought he would disapprove. It was getting impossible to predict what anyone around him was doing! They had always disagreed. On everything. Jarles was sure if the two of them ever found something they agreed on, they would both change their minds, to make sure no one would ever be able to accuse them of being nice to each other!

  “Jarles, your grandfather has his own ideas of what we should be doing, and sitting still isn’t one of those things,” Maw’ki told him, her blue eyes directed at his own. “You must know by now there isn’t anything I could possibly say to change his mind.”

  “Maybe not,” he mumbled begrudgingly, “but you could have said something. He sometimes listens to me.”

  “Maybe I enjoyed having you to myself for a few minutes,” she cocked her head, smiling at him. “Even if you weren’t talking to me, I’ve had a few, quiet moments to just sit here and look at you.” As her smile widened, he found it impossible to stay mad at her.

  “And what about you? What do you think we should be doing?” he asked her, genuinely interested. He was surprised to see her lower her eyes again, this time with a look of something that looked like pain, or maybe fear. He was about to withdraw the question since she wasn’t answering, wondering what had changed that made her seem so hesitant now, when she’d always been so brash and adventurous in the past.

  “I would imagine that depends on what you really want to accomplish here, Jarles,” she said quietly, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes. “I’m not sure you really know what you want to do. Or,” she added, holding up an admonishing finger, “if you do know, you haven’t shared it with the rest of us.” She put her finger down, resting one hand on top of the other, looking at him.

  He felt his cheeks flame, and found himself looking down at his own hands now, uncertain how to reply. He didn’t want to lie to her, because no matter his plans, that was something he’d never done before with her. He’d cherished the relationship they’d created, always wishing he could spend more time with her, and now… Now he wanted her to stay. He hadn’t cared much about many of his companions throughout his life, because everyone always wanted something. Maw’ki, though, had only ever wanted to know what he wanted. She had never tried to impose her own agenda on him. Unless he counted the fact she enjoyed seeing her own son – his father – in him. That, though, wasn’t something he was prepared to hold against her.

  He considered telling her the whole of his plan, to finally share what he and Savaar were going to do. He knew he wanted to; maybe she would see something they’d missed and she could help, before it was too late. He was sure, though, she would counsel against naming Savaar as Amphedia’s heir. If, for no other reason, because her son, his own father, had given his life so that he would become her heir. When he’d been under water, alone, everything had seemed so clear. He could admit to himself he’d even felt relieved. He had never wanted the life required of him. Not ever. Not even considering all the things he thought he might be able to change for his people. It had seemed to him that he’d been angry his whole life, wanting everyone to just leave him alone. In peace.

  Looking into Maw’ki’s eyes now, though, he felt himself waver. How could he tell her? She would walk awa
y from him. This time, he was sure, she would never come back. He’d already had this conversation with himself a hundred times, but now, sitting with her in the shade, the sun still hot on his skin, he felt small and insignificant, compared to her loss. How could he betray her?

  And what if, a small voice quietly suggested, Savaar was only using him to get whatever it was he wanted (probably revenge against his mother) and wouldn’t help his people after all?

  Jarles put his head in his hands, wondering why the clarity he’d felt had vanished. He felt as if nothing had changed at all, that he was angry all over again, with no good answers. What if, in becoming Amphedia’s heir, he became arrogant and self-serving as she was? He lifted his face, determined to seek his grandmother’s advice after all. He could no longer trust his own judgement and sorely needed someone to help him.

  “Maw’ki … “

  “Jarles! Denit!” Aidena’s voice interrupted him. He stood up, watching as she came running towards him, with a strange man fast on her heels. He was taken aback when Maw’ki stood up, moving to physically prevent them from approaching his table.

  “Stop where you are Aidena!” Maw’ki commanded. Her arms were at rest at her sides, but her knees were bent; she was obviously prepared to fight them if necessary. Jarles saw Aidena’s eyes widen in surprise, then saw her nod her head in understanding as she slowed her pace to a walk, stopping several paces away.