Rain, Chronicles of the Third Realm Wars #0

by E. J. Wenstrom

  He smiles.

  My Nia. His. I do not think I could feel any more full of happiness.

  We float in the buzz of our mingling auras a while longer, until Calipher confesses he must yield to the pull. When we finally get up, we are woozy from the power coursing through us.

  I cannot help watching him as he pulls his robe back on, perfect and glowing.

  That is when I see the speckles on his great silver wings. There are more splotches of darkness in them than I realized before.

  “How are some of your feathers dark, when all the rest are silver?” I ask.

  “But they are all silver,” he says. He twists around, and then he sees it, too. He frowns. “How strange.”

  I giggle, but he keeps staring at it, his frown burrowing a small wrinkle between his brows.

  I finish tying my robe and leap to him, wrapping my arms around him and taking in the warm peace. “They’re perfect. Like the rest of you.”

  CHAPTER 6

  IT HAS BEEN too long since we had rain. In the village, people are fretting over the crops, wondering what we have done to anger the gods now. Sometimes their eyes drift toward me as they speak of it.

  I hold my head high and pretend I do not see it. But inside I am wracked with guilt. The rain has not come since the day before Calipher and I went to the river together.

  Calipher says the Three do not work that way. That Theia would not punish everyone for our wrongdoing. That She wouldn’t even control the weather directly in the first place, or by Herself.

  “But then why has the rain stopped?”

  I lie over a bed of leaves deep in the forest, the only refuge from the sun’s angry heat.

  He smiles, a gentle, perfect smile that dimples at his chin, and kisses me. “Do not fret over it, my love.”

  I wish I were as sure as Calipher is that we are not causing the drought. But it has been a week, and there has been no response to our continued trysts.

  He pushes a swell of his aura on me, urging me to relax into it. It is easy not to worry when I am with him.

  Our robes dangle over a nearby branch. Even next to the river, with no rain and no clouds to cool the earth, it is too hot for clothes. He turns over and lays his head on my stomach.

  I breathe in deeply, then let the air out slowly, stretching my neck out and arching my back. Calipher leans in and kisses my breast in response. I close my eyes and try to let his aura fill me. But its pull over me isn’t as strong as I remember it that first time in the market.

  That certainly doesn’t seem to be the case for Calipher. If anything, he seems to feel the energy he gains from me more than ever. Something has started to shift behind his eyes. That eternal calm is fading, and they are becoming busier. More curious, more distracted, more alive. I wish I felt his aura as strongly as mine seems to fuel him. But it makes my heart flutter with pleasure to see him like this, to think that it is because of me. But why is his aura not doing the same for me?

  I sigh and stretch out, run my fingers through his hair. He is right; I should relax.

  But then something shifts, the air tightens and crackles. I pull myself up onto my elbow to see. Calipher springs to his feet. Another angel appears near us, already approaching at a brisk pace.

  It is the same one as before, her glow brilliant like the sun. She ignores our nudity and walks right to Calipher, her expression stormy. When she is close enough, she reaches out and presses her thumb into his forehead. She murmurs a chant I cannot hear. Calipher looks startled for a flash, and then his face goes blank.

  “Calipher! Calipher!”

  I try to reach for him but the angel stretches out her other hand toward me, and I cannot move.

  “Calipher!” I shriek. My heart pound in my ears.

  As the angel turns away, she gives me the slightest of smiles, one that is cold and callous. She strides away into the trees and disappears as if she has slipped behind a curtain.

  “What did you do!” I scream after her.

  But I fear I already know.

  When I turn back to him, he is already dressed and spreading his wings to fly away.

  I want to call after him, but it catches in my throat with a sob. As he soars off, the peace he filled me with fades to nothing. In its place a wave of dread comes over me and settles deep into my bones. I fear I have lost him for good this time.

  I dress myself, and then wander the forest, making my way slowly back down the mountain. We were farther out than I realized.

  I prefer flying.

  When I finally reach home, Mother is sitting on the step outside. When she sees me, she stops tapping on the step and stands, folding her arms across her chest.

  “Where exactly have you been?” She is covered in dirt and sweat head to toe. Her arms are folded over her chest.

  “Out.”

  “And what by the gods does that mean? I have been lugging jugs from the river to the fields with the other farmers since sunrise. I am hungry. ”

  I want to apologize, but her tone riddles my heart with resentment. Could she not have found her own meal just once?

  “Dinner will be ready soon.”

  “Where have you been?” she demands again.

  I do not have it in me, after my long trek down the mountain, to argue. My spirit is already in shreds.

  I turn away from her and fire up the oven, determined to hold onto the last embers of Calipher’s aura and not let her stomp it out.

  “Were you with that angel?”

  I whip around and stare at her. “Where did you hear that from?”

  Do they all know? Not that it matters now. Still, guilt flares within me in hot splotches.

  “So it is true.”

  She is still standing. Standing and glaring at me like I’ve taken something from her. Her hands curl into fists and the veins of her forearms raise against the muscle.

  “Where did you hear that?” I repeat.

  How I crave Calipher’s calming touch now. What I would give to stroke his feathers again and feel that rush of perfect peace.

  Mother rolls her eyes. “In the drought we all work together to keep the fields watered. You think I do not hear them talking? They think the drought is because of you.”

  “That is ridiculous. It is Father all over again. I am not going to let rumors dictate to me.”

  Calipher said the gods wouldn’t do that. I cling to his promise and hope it is the truth. Could an angel lie, if he wanted to?

  “Do not speak of your father. That angel you have been out doing gods know what with all day, he walked away and let him die.”

  “You know that’s not true. He did all he could, all the Firsts did. He left because he could do nothing. To let us have our time with him before he was gone.”

  She stomps her foot, creating a loud thunk as it slams into the wooden floor.

  “You will not see him again, Riamne.”

  The words burn right through me. I hate when she uses my full name. It slices my heart and out of it floods a hot pulsing rage. But it is true—I won’t see him again. Theia has taken him back.

  The pain is too much to bear.

  “You will not start telling me what to do. Not now. Years ago I could have used that. When I was a child. But I’m not a child anymore, and now I choose for myself.”

  “I had to care for my husband!”

  “Care for him? What care did you provide? You fretted by him and blamed everyone around you, and left no room for anything else. You chose him over me.”

  I can hardly believe my own mouth. We have gone too deep now. I am saying the things I have kept buried inside me for years, things I have kept to myself because to say them would be useless, to say them would only be to hurt. But I want to hurt her now, I want her to feel the way I feel—raw, burned, empty.

  “You are still choosing him over me, and I am the only one still here.”

  She stumbles back and blinks, as if she has been hit in the face. The rage is still simmering in her ey
es but she stutters for words that aren’t there.

  I shove a plate of bread and dried meats at her and put out the stove fire—I can’t stand to be here long enough to cook now. Then I storm out, making sure to slam the door as loudly as possible.

  After pacing alongside the fields for a while, I start to calm down. I start to regret what I said. I would go back and apologize if it would make any difference. But it is out now, and there is no way to take it back.

  Besides, I meant every word of it.

  As I pace through the fields, rain begins to fall.

  CHAPTER 7

  THE RAIN KEEPS coming every night. The thick heat clears, and the farmers stop having to haul water to the fields all day. A breeze cuts the sun’s strength like the realm is sighing from relief.

  That morning at prayer, I look up to find myself caught in Calipher’s gaze. His face is completely blank and his eyes are strained, as if he grappling for something he has forgotten. As soon as the meeting is over I try to approach him—how much does he remember? But as I get close he flinches, and then his great wings spread and he flies away from me. As he grows small against the sky, a desperate ache tugs at my chest.

  A rise of murmurs bring my attention back to the worshipers, and I realize they were watching the whole thing. Tears well in my eyes, and I run past them toward home.

  I stop going after that. It hurts too much to go now, and see him with his followers. I do not try to speak to him—I know he will not be the same.

  I only see him in the village now, on the rare occasion when I am not quick enough to miss him. I had not noticed before, drunk on his aura, how he had changed. The lines of his face seem deeper somehow, and his shoulders slump in a way that suggests he bears a great weight. The tips of his wings have turned black as midnight.

  How I crave to run into his arms and let the deep peace of his aura swell within me.

  Every night I go walking in the fields in the rain, too restless to sleep. I walk until I am too exhausted to move anymore, and only then do I make my way back and collapse onto the bed, finally numbed by exhaustion.

  “Nia.”

  It is Calipher’s perfect smooth voice. Hearing him say my name is like coming home. My heart pounds in sync with the pattering of the rain.

  What is he doing out here?

  “Calipher…I can’t. Please just go away.”

  To speak with him as if everything we were has been erased… I don’t think my heart could bear it.

  “Nia. Please.”

  It is so deceptive, his voice. Just like before, so warm and full of feeling.

  Even now, when he’s just a shell of his former self, I can’t say no to him. I turn around.

  The rain trickles over him, and his perfect curls are tousled and matted. His wings are tense and slightly spread around him, like a dark halo. In the darkness, he glows like a warm fire, and I want to curl up to him.

  But as I look closer, what I notice are his eyes. The filmed distance, the unfocused stare, it’s gone. They are sharp and alert, fixed on me with wild desperation. He’s panting, as if he is physically strained.

  “Calipher?”

  “My love.” He rushes into me and squeezes me tight. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” The same two words, over and over and over, a waterfall begging forgiveness.

  “Shhhhh.” I stroke his hair back away from his face, and then run my fingers over his lips to quiet him. “It is not your fault.”

  He pulls back slightly to look at me, his face just inches from mine.

  “Oh, gods, how I have missed you.”

  He kisses me, long and desperately. He kisses me over and over and over, hardly giving me time to breathe. But I don’t care. I don’t need air, I need him. I need him more than I’ve ever needed anything. I tell him so.

  In response, he kisses me even more, even harder. He covers my face, my neck, my shoulders in them, his mouth wild and hungry, his hands traveling up and down my body, as if trying to hold all of me at once.

  Overhead, a rumble of thunder rolls over the sky.

  “It is going to storm.” Even as I say it, the raindrops get heavier.

  Calipher lifts me into his arms and we fly away, into the covered protection of the woods. As soon as we land he presses me against the trunk of a tree and hurriedly continues where we left off. His wings are dripping and spread wide, drops running over the feathers and dripping from the tips. He’s rigid and pulsing against me, and I crave him. I have to be as close to him as I possibly can.

  He’s already pulling my wet robe off to get to me, running his hands over my breasts and up my thighs, which are clenched tight against his sides.

  All through the storm we make love. We make love like we’ve never made love before. Rough and desperate and craving. His mouth is open against my arm, my shoulder, my neck, his teeth press into me like he needs to consume me, like even being pressed against me isn’t close enough. I dig my nails into his back, straining to bring him closer, closer, closer. Our wet skin glistens against the lightning, slips against each other’s. He presses against me in a way that is almost frantic. My back digs into the tree’s bark behind me, but I’m too elated to care about a few scratches.

  When the storm is over and the first rays of sun stretch free through the clouds, my robe and my body are both in tatters. I see the little bruises and imprints of teeth showing themselves in splotches over my body, but I can’t find it in me to care. I’m too brimmed over with his aura, too happy and relieved to have him back.

  He presses one last kiss into my forehead. “I will see you tonight.”

  “Promise?” I beg. I do not want to let him go. Not ever.

  “Promise.”

  I stumble home, half exhausted, half drunk on his aura. Mother is already gone for the day, and I drop right into bed.

  CHAPTER 8

  I WAKE UP dreaming of Calipher’s fluttering wings and the coolness of his body pressed against me.

  I get through my morning chores as quickly as I can. I don’t want to see my mother, I just want to hold on to the sweet feelings I woke up with.

  Then I go outside. The morning is still damp from yesterday’s storm. It really was a heavy one—branches are strewn all over, and the crops look like they took a beating. But they’re still standing. A couple of early birds sing to the sky.

  A feeling swells within me—a great peacefulness. I turn to look around, and there he his. Calipher is waiting for me just to the side of our house.

  “Good morning.” My smile is so big it pulls in my cheeks. But when I move toward him and reach out my arms, he flinches and steps back.

  “I can’t,” he says.

  “But—“

  His face scrunches and he snaps at me, “Stop. I have to say something important, and it’s my only chance.”

  He has never snapped at me before. Not once.

  My smile washes away. Something cold and dark twists through my stomach.

  “What is it?”

  “I have to go back to the Host.”

  The coldness rises and swallows my heart.

  “I am so sorry. I did not mean to get you in trouble again.” I reach out reflexively to comfort him, but he pulls further away. “When will I see you again?”

  His head droops, and he mumbles into his chest, “You won’t.”

  The flames inside me are doused out and I turn numb. “I do not understand.”

  “I will not be coming back.”

  “Oh, come now.” I laugh, trying to keep it together. Trying to get my head around it all. “Theia has tried to keep us apart. You always come back to me.”

  “I’m not coming back, Nia.”

  Tears well up in my eyes. It can’t be true.

  “But—“

  “Nia.” He lunges forward and shakes me. “I don’t have long. I need you to listen.”

  I close my mouth and bite my lip.

  “I love you, Nia. More than I’ve ever loved anything, m
ore than I ever could love anything again. I don’t want you to miss me. I want you to be happy. Even if….” He loses his thought for a moment. “Even if it means finding someone else. So I made something for you.”

  He digs into his robe and pulls out a necklace, which he holds out to me in his palm. It’s gold and glistening, the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, other than him. Dangling from the chain, there is a large emerald stone. Unlike most jewels, this one is still raw and uncut, as if pulled right from where it grew.

  “Wear this, and you will always have a piece of me with you. You will always be loved.”

  I shake my head. The tears roll out of my eyes and down my cheeks. “I don’t want anyone else. I want you.”

  He places his hands gently around my face and presses his forehead into mine. “My Riamne,” he whispers. I close my eyes against the tears. “I love you always.”

  The sweet quiet of his aura dissolves, and when I open my eyes, it is as if he was never there. I hold the necklace tightly in my fist, the rough edges of the jewel scratching against my palm. I can feel a thin thread of Calipher’s peacefulness coursing through it, stretching up my arm and curling into my chest. It is not enough.

  CHAPTER 9

  “NIA? NIA?”

  The sun is pushing brightly through the windows. How long have I been standing here?

  Tears have crusted at the corners of my eyes. I rub at them with the back of my hand.

  “What?”

  I force myself back into my surroundings. Bastus stands in front of me. His face is lined with deep concern. “Nia, are you well?”

  What a terrible question. How could I be well right now?

  “Calipher is gone,” I reply.

  “I know. That’s why I came.”

  Deep, deep down under the hard outer numbness and the layers of pain underneath it, something stirs inside me. It is kind of him to come, after all that has happened between us.

  When I do not respond, he speaks more.

  “I am sorry about our fight. It was not fair of me to put all of that on you.”