Storm Phase Series: Books 1-3

by Hayden, David Alastair

  Onudaka stepped toward them. “I think we could all stand to be a little more civilized toward one another.”

  Turesobei ignored him. “I'm not a child!” he yelled at Iniru. “And you're not in charge of me!”

  “Fine, but if your father dies before we get there, it's not my fault.”

  “I'm doing the best I can!”

  “Well, it's not good enough.”

  “I'm not a qengai. I haven't trained for this sort of thing. I'm a wizard.”

  “And a spoiled brat.”

  “Arrrgh!” Turesobei shoved away from her. “I don't understand why you're so determined to help us anyway. Clearly you're too good for us.”

  “I have to help you because the Sacred Codex says I must.”

  Most k’chasan believed in the Sacred Codex, and Turesobei had been taught that the prophecies were true, at least in their most basic intents. However, he knew little about the specifics of how it all worked.

  “Who cares? Ignore it.”

  “I can't. The prophecies within the Codex will bring about a golden age for Okoro. Its demands are more important than you or me. If it had said that I should kill you, you'd already be lying in a pool of blood.”

  He stormed out into the trees and sat down for a rest. “Stupid k'chasans!”

  Half an hour passed and Turesobei's heart still thundered in his chest. Blood thumped in his temples. He couldn’t meditate and only his legs were getting a rest.

  “Let's go!” Iniru called out. “Only five hours of daylight left.”

  Turesobei groaned and rose to his feet.

  Onudaka waved to him. “Come on, lad. We do need to move on.”

  He joined the old medic and they trudged onto the path. Iniru glanced at them, nodded, and ran ahead.

  “Don't let her get to you, lad. She's just trying to do her job. She's young, and this is probably her first independent mission. For her to fail would be a huge dishonor to her clan.”

  “She's the most infuriating person I've ever met.”

  Onudaka smiled. “Women are like that. But I've found that the best are the ones that infuriate you the most.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Well, if they weren't worth being upset over, you'd just go away and ignore them, right? And if they don't frustrate you sometimes, then they don't have any spark to them.”

  “All the women in my life are frustrating.”

  “Then count yourself a lucky man.”

  “This coming from someone who never got married.”

  Onudaka patted him on the shoulder. “Lad, I've shared the company of a few ladies in my day. Trust me when I say that I know what I'm talking about.”

  “Perhaps we have different tastes.”

  Onudaka shrugged. “Perhaps.”

  “We do need Iniru's help, though, don't we?”

  “Aye, lad. She knows more about this forest than we do, and she can fight better than both of us combined.”

  “Well, if we didn't need her, I'd tell her to shove off.”

  Onudaka bobbed his head. “Yep, I suppose you would.” He grinned and began to softly whistle an old tune.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Three days passed where it seemed they did nothing but march, eat, and sleep, with far too little of the last. Turesobei grew irritable from bug bites, fatigue, scrapes, and bruises, not to mention Iniru's commanding, know-it-all attitude. At dinner, no one spoke except Onudaka, who would entertain them with old songs and stories of various places he'd been, people he'd met, and battles he'd fought in. The stories, Turesobei enjoyed. Doubly so since Iniru kept silent throughout them.

  Despite his distaste for her, Turesobei found himself stealing as many glances as possible at Iniru. He liked to watch her long, slender form as she crept through the forest ahead of them. At night, he enjoyed the glint of the campfire's light in her gleaming, amber eyes, their color almost perfectly matching that of his kavaru. He most relished the way she almost purred when she slept.

  Whenever she started to notice him staring, he'd immediately flick his gaze away. If she noticed, she didn't say anything about it. He told himself his interest in her was only because she was exotic. If she were the twentieth k'chasan girl he'd ever met, he'd be no more interested in her than a rock.

  * * *

  Two more grueling days passed. The forest thinned, and the land rose. Though the underbrush hindered them less, walking became harder. Rocks and hills frequently slowed their progress. Iniru said they had gained ground but were still far behind.

  Turesobei wanted to make an attempt at summoning Lu Bei. But Grandfather Kahenan had told him to keep the fetch a secret. Truthfully, he didn’t care about Onudaka finding out. He just didn’t want Iniru to know.

  After a brief lunch, Turesobei stepped away from the others and into a hollow sheltered by maples adorned with bright autumn leaves. He sat cross-legged on a dry rock in the midst of a carpet of muddy turf. He drew in deep, languorous breaths and closed his eyes. He inhaled the forest's scents: loamy turf, decaying leaves, wet bark, and pine needles. His mind and body eased, his spirit strengthened.

  He took out the battered diary and ran a hand across it.

  Nothing.

  He whispered, “Lu Bei. I summon thee.”

  One of the runes flickered, but only for a moment.

  The only option left was to try to draw Lu Bei out the way a wizard might summon a demon from the Shadowland.

  He began to whisper the spell of lesser summonings but the lightest, unnatural crinkling of leaves interrupted him. He opened his eyes and saw Iniru stepping into the hollow. Their eyes met for a moment, his blazing and hers surprised.

  She dipped her head. “Sorry, I didn't mean to bother you.”

  “Did you need something?”

  “I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

  “You don't need to check up on me.”

  “Yes, I do. We all have to look out for one another. There are many dangers here, from cultists to poisonous snakes. All you had to do was tell us what you were doing and I would've left you alone.”

  “Well—” He choked back a smart reply. “I guess you're right. I'll do that next time.”

  “You know, your senses must be pretty sharp for you to have noticed me.”

  “I'm more sensitive while meditating.” Or casting a spell.

  She pointed to the rock he sat on. “May I join you?” He shrugged, and so she stepped over and sat beside him. “Do you always meditate cross-legged?”

  “That's just my favorite way. My grandfather makes me meditate kneeling, walking, and standing.”

  “Hanging upside down?”

  “What?! No. Why would that be necessary?”

  She shrugged. “I haven't a clue, but I seem to be one up on you there. I've had to do it many times.”

  “Seriously? Upside down?”

  She smiled—a beautiful thing that—and nodded. “Mostly kneeling, though. So, your grandfather instructs you in magic?”

  “Yes. Grandfather Kahenan is the High Wizard of the Chonda.”

  “Will you be his successor?”

  “Yes.”

  “Does the sword not bother your meditations?”

  Turesobei followed her gaze down to his waist. For a moment he didn't understand what she was trying to ask.

  “Not at all. And as long as I'm careful to keep it out of the way at the right times, the white-steel blade doesn't bother my spell casting either.”

  “May I see it?”

  He eyed her suspiciously then shrugged. “Sure.”

  Turesobei handed over the scabbarded sword. She drew the blade and angled it in the sunlight. “I saw a ceremonial sword made of birch once. It looked a lot like this, only it wasn't metal. Does it have a name?”

  “Sumada. It’s my father’s sword.”

  She handed it back to him. “If he’s not a wizard, what does your father do?”

  “Mostly he's an explorer. A treasure hunter
really.”

  “So that’s what got him into trouble out here?”

  “Unfortunately. If this cult doesn't lead to his death, the artifact very well might. He’s obsessed with it.”

  “Tell me about the artifact. Everything you know. If I'm going to help you, I need to know exactly what's going on.”

  “Your Sacred Codex didn't tell you?”

  “The directives are clear and concise. The rest is vague at best.”

  “I'm not sure I can trust you.”

  She grabbed him by the upper arm. Her touch was strange. Not because she had small claws tucked into the fingertips or because her palm had thick pads. It was something else. He didn't understand what, but he liked the feeling.

  “I'm not going to betray you. I'm here to help. I have sworn to faithfully serve the Sacred Codex.”

  He tried to avoid her gaze but couldn't. He nodded and she withdrew her hand. Then he recounted everything he knew about what was going on.

  “Nothing good will come from that artifact,” she said.

  “That's what I've been saying, too. And we're not the only ones. Onudaka and my grandfather both agree. They are wise, experienced men. But no one can stop my father's ambition or that of the Storm Cult. And I'd rather us have it than them.”

  “I can agree with that. Maybe we can capture the key and destroy it so no one can get to the heart.”

  Turesobei placed Lu Bei’s diary back into the satchel as Iniru stood.

  “Your book,” she said. “Is it important to you?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “Looks ruined.”

  “I can see that for myself.”

  “I can’t help you with the hole in it or what looks like water damage, but I do know how to repair bindings. If you’d like some help with it, let me know. The pages will start falling out before long.”

  She reached out a hand to help him up. He accepted it gruffly, though he was faking the attitude this time to cover up that he really wanted to feel her touch again.

  “Come on, we should keep moving. Perhaps we can stop all this nonsense and prevent anyone else from getting hurt.”

  Just as Turesobei stood, he saw a glimmer of something moving in the trees, far beyond the maples.

  “Iniru,” he whispered, “I think I just saw something.”

  “I heard it.”

  “I couldn't make out what it was.” He activated his kenja-sight and gasped. “Iniru, the currents here are very disturbed now, but they weren't a few moments ago when I started my meditations.”

  A limb cracked and leaves rustled some way off. A faint howl, like wind through a chink in a barn wall, followed the rustlings. Iniru drew the two combat sickles from her sash and held one in each hand. She scanned the forest around them.

  “We should get back to Onudaka.”

  Turesobei followed her back to the camp. Onudaka had somehow sensed the wrongness. He was standing with his quarterstaff in hand, wary of enemies.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “Don't know,” said Iniru.

  Turesobei continued to scan around. “I see strong air energies, negatively aspected. Something's out there. A spirit creature of some sort.”

  “A demon?” Iniru asked.

  “No, but whatever it is, I'm certain it's not friendly.”

  The noise continued and moved toward them, one tree at a time.

  “It sounds like a wild animal,” said Onudaka.

  Turesobei drew Sumada. “Should we run?”

  “We stand,” Iniru whispered. “It's moving too fast for us to outrun it. Stay still and be quiet. Maybe it'll pass us by.”

  Leaves rustled in the tree above them, and a limb made a sharp creak as if something had fallen onto it. Indeed, something had. On the limb up above and just ahead of them sat a shimmering, translucent creature. It looked like a mountain gorilla composed of dense heat waves, or perhaps swirling mist.

  The creature let out a piercing, mind-numbing scream and leapt toward them.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “Get back!” Turesobei yelled.

  Surprised by his sudden command, Onudaka and Iniru instinctively obeyed. Turesobei met the beast head-on, striking with Sumada. A normal sword would have passed through the creature as if it were made of water, causing pain but no damage. The white-steel sword met even less resistance. The blade ripped through the gorilla-spirit's torso, vibrating in tune with the sounds that seemed to compose the creature.

  The beast was powerful. It flickered and dimmed but didn't die. The gorilla-spirit knocked Turesobei flat, expelled the air from his lungs with a whoosh, and nearly cracked his ribcage.

  The beast howled so loudly that Turesobei could hear nothing else. Translucent fists beat at his head. He twisted and turned, just barely dodging the mighty blows that thudded into the earth. He would have been killed if the creature hadn't been dazed by pain.

  Iniru leapt forward and smote the beast's side with her sickle. The blade whisked through the creature, causing little if any harm. But it did distract it long enough for Onudaka to pull Turesobei free. The gorilla-spirit bashed at Iniru, but she danced away from its fists. Turesobei jumped to his feet and lunged. He slashed the gorilla-spirit across its neck, severing its head.

  A bellow erupted from the creature's neck. Turesobei's teeth and bones vibrated. His ears felt as if someone were shoving sticks into them. He dropped his sword, fell to his knees, and covered his ears. A tremendous boom knocked him flat, and a rush of released energies stormed through the forest.

  Slowly, the echoes of the boom faded, leaving Turesobei with ringing ears and a pounding headache.

  Onudaka and Iniru were both on the ground. Onudaka sat up, holding his head and grumbling. Iniru writhed and clutched at her tufted ears. Turesobei grabbed her by the arm and helped her up. She stumbled to her feet, whimpering. She looked woozy, and Turesobei thought she might faint any moment.

  Turesobei looked around with his kenja-sight. The energies were returning to normal. “It's gone.”

  “What?” Onudaka said.

  Iniru looked at him blankly. He noticed then a trickle of blood seeping from her left ear. He helped her sit down on a fallen tree. While doing so, Turesobei had to repeat himself three times, with increasing volume, before Onudaka could hear him. Iniru never did.

  “I-I can't take another blast like that,” Iniru said, far too loudly. “But more will be coming.”

  “What makes you say that?” Onudaka asked.

  She shook her head in confusion.

  “Why?” yelled Turesobei.

  “Bogamaru Sengi,” she said, reading his lips. “Don’t know why they’re after us, but they will come for us with greater force. And soon.”

  “Then we've got to do something about those screams,” Turesobei said. “Onudaka, check on Iniru. Her ears are more sensitive than ours. She may have a busted eardrum.”

  “Gods, but I hope not.”

  Turesobei opened his pack and drew out the wax he used for sealing scrolls and letters. He weighed it in his hand and thought that he might just have enough.

  “We've got to keep moving!” Iniru shouted.

  Turesobei shook his head. Onudaka checked Iniru's ears carefully, muttering to himself. Turesobei summoned a small flame to one fingertip. He pinched off some of the wax and heated it. He let it cool until it could be shaped but wouldn't stick to his skin. He placed it in his ear and molded it into an earplug.

  “Good idea,” Onudaka said.

  Turesobei finished the first set of earplugs and placed a simple sound-dampening spell on them.

  “There's some damage to her ears for sure, lad, but it's hard to say how much. Her hearing may not ever be the same. But I'm not sure, because her ears are very different from ours.”

  While Turesobei made earplugs for everyone, Iniru loudly told them about the Bogamaru Sengi based on legends she’d heard growing up.

  “Centuries ago, the King of Wakaro unjustly executed more than se
venty elite warriors known as the Bogamaru Regiment. They were the most loyal of all his troops. But he killed them because he was afraid of their growing popularity and because he thought his wife had fallen in love with their sergeant.

  “When the warriors were impaled, their death screams transformed into terrible spirit-beasts called sengi. Most formed into wolves, but others shaped into tigers, bears, and constrictors. The sergeant transformed into a giant condor.

  “The Bogamaru Sengi ravaged the Wakaran capital, killed the King, and slaughtered thousands. Once they had slain all who had wronged them, some semblance of their honor and humanity returned and they regretted having harmed innocents.

  “The Shogakami goddess Amasan, Lady of the Winds, persuaded them to retreat into the mountains. There, they moan and howl against the injustices done to them.

  “But they shouldn't be this far down from the mountains,” said Iniru in a quaking voice. “They’ve never left their home before.”

  “Well, I saw a taint of wizardry on that beast,” Turesobei said. “I think it was bound or compelled by a wizard, probably the one working with the Storm Cult.”

  “They have a wizard?” Onudaka asked.

  “I'm certain of it.”

  Onudaka cursed. “Can't you banish demons?”

  “Only zhurakami from the Nether Hells or the Shadowland. Though similar in composition, these sengi aren’t demons.”

  “And you can't bind them?”

  “I could, but bindings require preparation and a lot of power.”

  As he walked over to Iniru, he drew a healing strip from his pouch. He hoped he'd have some downtime soon. He could certainly use more of these. In a situation like this, he was much too tired and tense to do the spell without having inscribed it already.

  She gave him a puzzled, anxious look. He mouthed the words: trust me.

  She nodded and Turesobei chanted the activation command. Yellow earth kenja rose from the ground, and viridian forest energies joined with it. The forest teemed with life forces that would boost the healing spell. He placed his hands on her ears, closed his eyes, and focused the healing energies. After a few minutes, the glow receded.