Storm Phase Series: Books 1-3

by Hayden, David Alastair

  “Thank you, my lady, for understanding.”

  “I understand your situation is difficult. We all do, and we sympathize.” Sun Priestess Oroki stood. “I will see you at the party tomorrow night.”

  The birthday party. His first ever. The Chonda frowned on the practice. At eighteen, he’d undergo a simple blessing from King Ugara and enjoy a lively tea. The zaboko had birthday parties. Most baojendari, though they’d never admit it, were jealous of their custom.

  His first birthday party … he should be excited. Among all the cool cultures, he was now an adult, having turned sixteen already. But there seemed to be so little worth celebrating. And Kurine … he sighed. What a mess he’d gotten himself into.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  After Turesobei cast a healing spell on a herdsman who’d broken his hand in an accident, he returned to his room for some well-earned meditation time. But Kemsu and Zaiporo were waiting for him. They grabbed him by the arms and dragged him to the communal bathing room.

  “We reserved time just for you,” Zaiporo said.

  “Got to get you cleaned up nice for your party,” Kemsu added, smiling almost maliciously.

  They shoved him into the room, and Kemsu tossed him an ivory comb engraved with swirling patterns. “A present, from your betrothed. And I’d say your hair could use some effort, my friend — it looks terrible. Oh, Narbenu wishes you a happy birthday, by the way. He’s on scout duty this evening and won’t be able to make it to the party. He apologizes.”

  Turesobei stripped down and sank into the tub, thankful he was here alone. The warm water was brought in by pipes from the hot springs. He figured the goronku could easily heat the entire village complex to a very comfortable temperature if they arranged the pipes correctly and dug further down to tap into the geothermal currents below, but there had to be a reason they hadn’t done so already. He allowed himself to relax and tried not to think of anything serious.

  Why shouldn’t he allow himself some time for fun? Why shouldn’t he celebrate his birthday? He always ended up just barely saving the day, and by the time he recovered, no one wanted to celebrate his accomplishments. They just wanted to put new burdens on him.

  “I’m sixteen years old now,” he muttered to no one. “Many cultures consider me a man. I’m alive. I saved my world. Two women love me … I think. So tonight, I’m going to have fun for a change.”

  A nagging sense that he didn’t know how to have fun danced through his mind, but he dismissed it as quickly as he could.

  * * *

  Lu Bei entered the bedroom and bowed in a most dignified manner. “Master, do you know what time it is?”

  “No, what time is it?”

  Lu Bei pumped his fists into the air, spun around, and shook his behind as if dancing. “It’s party time!”

  Laughing, Turesobei followed Lu Bei to the common room. He swept back a curtain that didn’t usually hang there and stepped into — a giant, nearly empty room. Chairs and tables sat along the edges, clearing a large space in the center. Only half the star stones burned. A giant, flickering lantern hung from the center of the ceiling while colored ribbons draped from all over.

  “Where is everyone?”

  “Birthday madness!” Lu Bei cried, flying around the room and shooting sparks from his palms. “Happy sixteenth birthday, master!”

  Drumming and piping erupted from the opposite hall, and a six-piece band — three drummers, two pipers, and a crooner — marched into the room and took up position in the corner. Cooks bustled out of the kitchen carrying plates of goronku delights: smoky meats, smoky vegetables, and smoky milk soups.

  Zaiporo appeared behind Turesobei and shoved him forward. “Happy birthday, Sobei!”

  Turesobei stumbled out into the common room. The Council entered. Each approached, patted him on each shoulder, and said, “Welcome to adulthood, Chonda Turesobei. Happy birthday.”

  Tsuroko’s shoulder pats knocked Turesobei side-to-side.

  Enashoma crashed into him. “Happy big one, big brother.”

  He squeezed her tight. “Yay! I’m an adult now.”

  “Yeah, only here, you know. Don’t let it go to your head. Just imagine what Grandfather would say.”

  “I’d rather not!”

  Iniru gave him a perfunctory hug and a peck on the cheek. He breathed in deep the smell of her. All the smoky meats in the world couldn’t hide that scent from him.

  She whispered into his ear. “Happy birthday, Turesobei. I’d give you a much bigger kiss … if I could … if I wasn’t mad at you.”

  Before he could respond, she was shoved aside. Kurine stepped in, casting an evil sideways glance at Iniru. Kurine pulled him into a deep hug. “Happy birthday, my beloved.” She moved in to kiss him full on the lips, but he turned his head just as she neared him. The kiss missed his mouth and slid across his cheek. An annoyed look crossed her face.

  “My betrothed,” he said as warmly as he could manage. “All this … it’s wonderful. I’ve never had a party before, and this is perfect.”

  She laughed. “Come, you must eat.”

  As Turesobei threaded through the crowd that had gathered, he received well-wishes from every goronku he’d gotten to know and many that he had not. The common room was big enough to fit all the goronku if necessary, but many had stayed home. Some were old and uninterested in parties. Some were on guard duty or out hunting. Others had early work shifts and were already asleep. The party was mostly made up of young people who would soon reach sixteen and those who had seen sixteen within the last twenty years.

  Along with his companions and Kemsu, he piled his plate full of food. The goronku food was good, if all a bit the same. He reached a table of flagons filled with water and casks of what he would’ve guessed was mead or wine, except he knew neither of those was available here due to the climate. Two rows of tiny cups ringed the casks.

  “What’s this?” he asked Kemsu.

  “Ikase. Fermented sonoke milk.”

  “That sounds disgusting,” Enashoma said.

  Kemsu filled a tiny cup with ikase and held it out for them to smell.

  Enashoma flinched. “Ugh, it smells disgusting too. Why would you drink that?”

  “You don’t have spirits where you’re from?” Kurine asked.

  “Oh we do,” Turesobei replied. “Wine from grapes and rice … ale, mead, and others. But all of those smell good. None of them smell like milk that’s turned sour three times over.”

  “It smells like that because that’s more or less how you make it,” Kemsu said. He took a sip, and then breathed out as if he’d swallowed a bit of fire. He offered the cup of ikase to Iniru. “Try some. I bet you can’t drink more of it than I can.”

  Iniru snorted. “I probably can’t. My senses are far more attuned than yours. I’ll pass. Thanks.”

  Kurine filled a cup halfway and offered it to Turesobei. “For you, my love.”

  “I think I’ll pass, too,” he replied.

  “But you can’t,” she replied. “It’s tradition. You are old enough to drink ikase now. You must have some at your birthday feast, or else it’s rotten luck.”

  “You won’t survive more rotten luck,” said Iniru, smirking.

  He shot Iniru a dirty look and took the cup. “I’m already old enough to drink wine and mead where I come from.”

  Kurine put her arm around him. “You’re not getting out of this. I suggest drinking it fast. One gulp. Get it over with.”

  With a lot of people watching, Turesobei downed the ikase. Immediately he regretted it. He doubled over as it scalded its way down his throat and burned into his gut. Coughing, his throat seemingly on fire, he begged for water. Enashoma passed him her flagon, and he drank all of it.

  “More water, please.”

  “The burn fades,” Kemsu said.

  “What about the taste? It’s the most disgusting thing ever.”

  “That takes a while,” Kurine said. “There’s a reason the only time I’ve
ever had it was on my birthday.”

  “You get used to it,” Kemsu said, taking a sip from his cup.

  “You don’t have many drunks here, do you?” Zaiporo asked.

  “People who drink too much?” Kurine asked. “Oh, we have those. I guess some people —”

  “Have no taste buds?” Turesobei said.

  All of them sat together, their plates piled high with food, and they managed to have a pleasant conversation and laugh without any sniping or arguments for a change. Turesobei met many new goronku, but the names swirled through his mind. The ikase had made him fuzzy-headed and a little silly. He found himself laughing far more than he normally would’ve. He didn’t like it. Not at all. A wizard didn’t need addled wits, though he tried to tell himself that there was no danger here and he wasn’t going to need to suddenly cast a spell tonight.

  As they finished eating, Lu Bei landed on the table. He downed a cup of ikase and said, “To the skies again!”

  Turesobei grabbed him by the arm before he could fly off. “Where have you been?”

  “Mingling, master. Mingling. I also went to ask Motekeru if he wanted to join us. Surprisingly —” Lu Bei hiccupped “— he did not.”

  “How many of those have you had?” Enashoma said, poking him in the belly.

  “No poke, Shoma Lady, no poke. I have fastest metabolism. I can handle many few of these.”

  Shaking his head, Turesobei let him go, and Lu Bei flew off.

  “If he’s really a book and doesn’t have to eat,” said Kurine, “then how is it he can drink tea and ikase? He doesn’t … you know, go to the bathroom, right?”

  “No, he doesn’t go to the bathroom,” Turesobei said. “As to how he can drink tea and ikase … we’re not really sure. He’s magical. Maybe he burns it off with his crazy antics.”

  “You’ve never asked?” Kurine said, surprised.

  “Of course I have. But he won’t say, and I’ve been nice enough not to order him to.”

  An impeccably dressed woman with a frame that was delicate, for a goronku, approached. “Chonda Turesobei,” she said. “I am Ukiri … Kurine’s mother.”

  Turesobei stood and bowed. “I’m pleased to meet you at last, my lady.”

  She suppressed a giggle. “So well-mannered … too well-mannered for here, I’m afraid. Kurine was right, you are handsome.” She poked him in the ribs. “For such a scrawny thing. I apologize for not having met you already, but I have been busier than normal.”

  “The clothes you and Kurine made for us … they are wonderful. Thank you.”

  “Of course. I’m glad, and I didn’t mind, even if I have been working extra to catch back up to normal production. Come by tomorrow and have dinner with us, okay? I want to get to know you more. I think we’ll likely be seeing a lot of one another for many years to come. Best to get off on the right foot, don’t you think?”

  “Um … of course. Yes.”

  “I really am sorry it took so long for us to finally meet. Well, I am off to bed. Have fun tonight, children.”

  After her mother had vanished, Kurine grabbed his hand. “Come. It’s time to dance.” She dragged him a few steps along, then she turned to the others and said, “Everyone. Get moving now.”

  “I don’t really know how to dance,” he said. “I just know one dance. We use it at weddings. It’s slow and formal and not suitable to this sort of music.”

  “Well, dancing’s not hard if you don’t care what you look like when you do it,” Kurine said. “Just move your feet and your hips and your shoulders and bob your head. Here, take my hands and follow my lead.”

  Feeling awkward and looking, he suspected, as if he were about to go into a seizure as he flailed about mostly to the rhythm, Turesobei danced with Kurine for a long time, until Enashoma saved him. He danced with her for a while. Kurine danced with Zaiporo, and Iniru danced with Kemsu. That, Turesobei didn’t like. He finally switched to dancing with Iniru, but that didn’t last long before Kurine had them switch to a group dance where they passed from one partner to the next in time to the fast-paced music. She taught the dance to them as they went, and for people trained in various martial arts, and Enashoma, who knew how to dance already, it wasn’t difficult to pick up. Turesobei messed up more than the others. He blamed it on the ikase.

  At last, the music paused. The Council took over the center of the commons and danced a slow, stomping religious dance honoring the gods and blessing Turesobei. They said goodnight and departed.

  Enashoma and Iniru went to the bathroom, while Zaiporo and Kemsu went to get more food. Lu Bei zipped crazily across the room, amusing the goronku as he crashed into many of them. He spotted Turesobei and zipped over to him. He didn’t pull up soon enough and struck Kurine square in the chest.

  “Oh good thanksness, madam,” Lu Bei slurred, “for providing so much a soft landing spots.”

  “Little demon!” she said, slapping him playfully across the cheek. “You’re scandalous.”

  Turesobei grabbed Lu Bei by the back of the neck and said, “Too scandalous. Apologize to Kurine and go to bed.”

  “I’m sorry, my dearest lady,” he said, “future mistress of mine, though I must … I must … I must re — re — reiterate that I’m not a demon. I am a … fetch.”

  “Bed,” Turesobei insisted.

  “No, master. The night yet lives on.”

  “Bed, or I call Motekeru to come get you.”

  “You w-wouldn’t d-dare.”

  “Or, I could call Enashoma instead. Do you want her to take you to bed? She’d be most disappointed in you.”

  “You are play-play-playing me, master, like a zither with two and a half strings, and I do not like it. But fine, you win. I shall go. Happiest birthday and good-goodnight.”

  Turesobei released him. Lu Bei zoomed overhead three times, shouting good night to everyone, then flew down the hallway back toward the room, shooting sparks and crashing into the walls as he went. Laughing heavily, Turesobei leaned into Kurine. Then suddenly, he realized they were practically alone together with no one nearby.

  “Have you enjoyed your birthday?” she murmured.

  “I have,” he replied earnestly. “I really have. This has been amazing. I’ve always been loaded down with responsibility. I’ve had very few chances ever for anything even resembling fun. I will never forget this.”

  “I can make it even better,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in close.

  He muttered something that was supposed to be “back off” or “I can’t” or “this is a bad idea” or “I love Iniru and you’re a nice girl and I like you a lot but not like this.” But what came out was just a jumble of random blurts and groans.

  Kurine kissed him.

  He made his first mistake then. He kissed her back. Because it was nice and she was very pretty and sweet and he still hadn’t completely shaken that bit of ikase. Then he made an even bigger mistake. He made the mistake of enjoying it, and kept kissing her, for long enough that he lost track of time.

  Something hit him in the back of the head. “Ow!” He spun around. A chunk of meat was lying on the floor. “What in the —”

  Growling, Iniru stepped right up and grabbed him by the collar. “You — are — the — stupidest — boy — ever.”

  “Niru, I —”

  “Don’t Niru me. I can’t believe you would —”

  The doors from the stairway burst open. Narbenu and four goronku scouts entered. One limped in wearing tattered clothes and had a cut on his cheek that was bleeding. Turesobei didn’t recognize him. But he recognized the look on Narbenu’s face: fear.

  The band and everyone in the room fell silent.

  “Someone summon the Council,” Narbenu called out. “Immediately. Turesobei?”

  He stepped forward. “I’m here, Narbenu. What’s wrong?”

  “Sorry to interrupt your party. But we have a terrible problem — and not much time to deal with it.”

  Chapter Twe
nty-Two

  On the one hand, Turesobei wasn’t bothered by the interruption; it saved him from Iniru’s retribution. On the other hand, the tremor in Narbenu’s voice terrified him. It took a lot to rattle a goronku. Even worse was the look of recognition on the face of the strange, injured goronku as he gazed at Turesobei.

  “You’d best come with me to meet the Council,” Narbenu said to Turesobei. “Bring your companions.”

  “Party’s over!” Narbenu called out, straining out a measured tone. “This is not an emergency. Don’t be alarmed. But it is an early goodnight to everyone.”

  “Thank you,” Turesobei called out to the guests as he headed toward the hallway that led to the meeting chamber.

  Kurine grabbed his arm. “Is everything all right?”

  “I’m sure it will be,” he said, though he doubted it. “The party was great. I loved it.”

  She beamed a smile at him and started to follow, but Narbenu blocked her. “Sorry, Kurine. Official business.”

  As they marched after Narbenu, Iniru stepped right in behind Turesobei and jabbed him with a finger between his shoulder blades. “Don’t think I’ll ever forget,” she whispered.

  They gathered in the chamber, and several minutes later the councilors hurried in without ceremony and took their seats. Some looked bleary-eyed from having just been awoken. There were no cushions for Turesobei and his companions, so they had to stand.

  “Narbenu, what’s the matter?” asked War Chief Sudorga. “And who is this with you?”

  The battered goronku bowed, and pulled out an amulet made from a giant tooth with a rune carved into it. “I am Hufu from Eastfall.”

  Earth Priestess Faika stepped forward. She touched the tooth, and then his forehead. “You are as you claim, ranger. Be welcome here. And tell us what you have seen, for you have traveled far if you came from Eastfall.”