Rain, Chronicles of the Third Realm Wars #0

by E. J. Wenstrom

  But I cannot bring myself to say it out loud. Something holds me back from confessing to him.

  Instead, I just sigh. “Go home, Taavi. Forget all this.”

  I wish I could steal the memory out of him somehow. But all I can do is guide him back out the door and into the rain. I shut it on him, before he can ask me anything else.

  From the window, I see him stumble away through the rain, back toward the village. Lighting pierces the sky overhead.

  CHAPTER 16

  FINALLY THE CLOUDS give and it rains over the village. I put off going into town because of it, but it is still relentless the next day. I know I have to just go and face the downpour.

  I have to know if the others remember, and what they are saying.

  Besides, the quiet and emptiness of this place, so far removed from everything else, leaves too much room for the necklace to tempt me.

  So I brace myself and head out into the torrent. Water pools and flows in streams along the path, soaking my feet through.

  When I finally trudge through the mud and reach the village, it is all but empty. The weather has kept most people away.

  I go straight to Shara. She will have the goods I must trade for, along with the latest rumors rumbling through the town.

  “Nia, my dear!” She watches me approach. “Come, come, under the awning!”

  Out of the rain, my skin chills and rises in little bumps.

  “Shara,” I greet her. “What weather.”

  “They all begged for the rain. I warned them, do not mess with the gods, do not make demands of them. And now, they have their rain.” She waves her hand out into the flooding streets as if she had foretold exactly this. “They do not listen.”

  I give her a small smile in acknowledgment.

  “And my dear, I am so sorry. I heard your mother has passed. Is it true? What happened?”

  Curiosity quivers in her eyes buried below the empathy. Good—if she does not know, the rumors must not be flying yet—or else the accounts are so strange and confused they cannot be relied on. I will take either.

  “Yes, may she rest in peace,” I say.

  “May she rest in peace,” she echoes, pressing Theia’s blessing into her forehead—her goddess—followed by Gloros’ over her heart, for my mother’s faith.

  I copy her gestures before continuing.

  “It was a terrible, strange accident. Some men were out front with her. To—to help with the fields. But the heat, and then the liquor was passed around…she and the others were joking and tussling, and then Mother just….” I pause, try to look as stunned as I can. “She stumbled back and slammed into the house. Shattered the window completely. She went down, and she didn’t get up.”

  I drop my eyes to the dirt. Let the heavy patter of the rain tell the rest.

  Shara gasps.

  “Yes,” I agree. “Taavi was nearest to her when it happened. He came back to me yesterday. He blames himself. He should not; he did not do anything.”

  There. Anything Taavi says now will not be listened to. The tight anxiety that has constricted me all morning loosens.

  “Another terrible tragedy for your family that only the gods could explain.” Shara eyes me slyly. “Well. But what is there to say?”

  She tuts and shakes her head. Then, she shifts back to her usual businesslike self. I suppose a family tragedy only gains me back a fraction of her esteem.

  “But what brings you out to my cart on this gloomy day of misfortune?”

  “Meat,” I say, dropping my bags of grains on the table.

  We conduct our trades.

  When I turn to leave, a group of men has collected between Shara’s booth and my way home. Most of them were there when it happened.

  Only days ago, they lived to adore me. Now, they stand in the furious rain, arms folded and eyes glaring. I hesitate at the edge of Shara’s awning. But they are not under the charm’s influence anymore. Now they are just men. My neighbors.

  I do not know which is scarier, considering the restless way they watch me.

  “What happened, Nia?” Ferris calls to me as I pass. He is looking better; the swelling is gone from his face and his color is returning. “What did we do to your mother?”

  I turn and approach them, trying to walk slowly to show they cannot intimidate me.

  “You did nothing. You were drunk.” I start telling them the same story I told Shara. It will be easier later when the rumors begin to spread if the stories are the same.

  “You were all tussling around. Then my mother lost her balance and hit her head terribly.”

  Do I look sad enough to sell it? I look to the ground and try to muster a tear, though I have never been one to cry much, and I do not know if the men would see it in the midst of so much rain.

  “No,” Ferris says. “Liar. We all saw it. It is like a strange warped dream, but we all remember the same. Taavi pushed her. Why would he push her, Nia? Why would you hide it for him? Why is it so hard to remember?”

  The men are spreading from behind Ferris, forming a half-circle around me.

  “And what about me? What happened to me, Nia? That was at your farm too, whatever it was. Why was I there at all? Why were any of us there?”

  “You—to help my mother with the fields.”

  Ferris scoffs. “I am a metalworker! What do I know of wheat? Do not lie, Nia. You only make it worse for yourself.”

  “Stop. You are confused.” I suddenly wish he did have to follow my commands.

  “No, witch.” Ferris spits the words at me. “We understand perfectly.”

  I stiffen. “What does that mean?”

  “The gods punished your family once with the Great Illness,” Ferris says. “And now they have done it again. One has to wonder—what have you done that your family is cursed in this way?”

  “Firstie-lover.” Another voice chimes in from farther back. I do not see who.

  “I don’t know what happened the other night,” Ferris hisses, “but we can all see it was more than an accident.”

  “The gods are against your family,” Hector chimes in. “And we’re here to remove you from our village.”

  The men are edging in closer, almost surrounding me. My heart is pounding in my ears, drowning out the hard rain.

  I turn and try to get away, but a hand grabs a fistful of hair and tugs me back. After that it is a blur of hot bursts of pain as I am tossed and jostled between them. I trip and fall to the ground and they resort to hard kicks from wherever they can make contact.

  “Hoi!” a stern voice shouts. Shara. “Enough! Or I will call the council.”

  Through the rain and the feet and the pain, she sounds so far away. But the men stop.

  “We will finish this later, witch,” a final kick to my side.

  I moan in response, too sore for anything else. I hear the slosh of steps through mud as they go away, and then one lone pair of feet approaches. A hand softly brushes hair away from my face.

  “Thank you.”

  “Are you all right?” Shara’s voice is grudging. She nudges at me with her foot.

  “No, no, I am all right.” I say it because I want to believe it, and once I say it, it is true enough.

  I push myself up to a sitting position. Pain throbs in splotches all over my body. I need help.

  “Can you bring Bastus?”

  She stares at me a moment, a wash of warmth flickering briefly behind her cold stare. “I thought surely you of all people must know—Bastus has disappeared.”

  It is a blow more painful than any of the men’s blows. “Disappeared?”

  “They say he never came to prayer yesterday, or again today. When they checked his house, his things were gone. Some are saying he must have been called back. Like Calipher.”

  I do not think so. He has left. Because of me.

  But there is no use in saying anything. There is no use in looking for him. He could be anyone by now, whatever he chooses to be. If Bastus does not want to be found
, he will not be.

  I clench my hands into fists to stop them from shaking, and force myself slowly to my feet. Shara helps me pick up my things.

  “Thank you,” I say as she hands me the last of it. “Truly. I do not know what would have happened here if not for you.”

  “You be careful,” she chides. “Everything is going wrong, and people are getting scared. This is only the beginning of it. Mark my words.”

  CHAPTER 17

  BY THE TIME I reach home, I am buckled over from the swelling bruises pulsing over my sides, padding forward as softly and slowly as I can. I am so soaked through that I do not know if I can ever be truly dry again.

  How long can the downpour keep up like this? It is going to drown the crops, and there is nothing I can do about it. At least when it was a drought, Mother could drag jug after jug of water to the crops from the dwindling river. Now there is nothing but to wait it out, and see how bad the damage is.

  Climbing into bed and wrapping myself in the blankets seems too painful to bear, so instead I slump into a shaking, achy ball on the floor.

  What was that? I have never seen so many men so angry, so vicious. Is Shara right? Is it because of the spreading fear?

  I sit and watch as the throbbing pain turns into so many welts under my skin, collects in blues and blacks and sickening greens.

  Water puddles on the ground around me. I should mop it up. But what does it matter? There is no one left to care where I sit or how messy the house gets. Calipher was taken from me. My mother is dead. Bastus has left.

  And it is my own fault, all of it.

  My entire body feels heavy and sluggish, a grey exhaustion taking me over. I hurt, and it is not just from the welts growing over my arms and legs and ribs.

  It is as if I have been tugged this way and that, high and low, up and down, too many times. It has strung out my soul beyond its capacity, and it has finally given out. The pain comes at me from all sides, not just my body, but also my mind and my soul. It is greater than me. All-consuming.

  A raging fire of passion fueled me through it all, and now that it has burned out all that it has left for me is scorched ashes.

  All this to satisfy some curiosity? To swallow up the loneliness?

  I have been horrid.

  And you have more than paid for it.

  What will I do now? How will I keep on? The men in the village were right. The gods have frowned on me.

  Do not turn on yourself, now, too.

  Everything has changed. As if the world has turned upside down. Everything is full of fear. There is so much hate in this small village now. It swells around me like walls, too tall to scale. Like we are being held in a cage.

  How will I make it all alone in this ruined realm?

  You do not have to be alone. Calipher would not want it.

  Calipher did not know what he had created. Bastus was right about that, I am sure of it. He never would have meant for all of this to happen. He would never hurt someone on purpose. He would never hurt me.

  But it does not matter what he meant. Here I am.

  This is exactly what Calipher didn’t want for me. If only he knew what he left me to, I think bitterly.

  Gods, how I miss them. Both of them. If I could undo it all and have them back, before things fell apart, before I ever touched Calipher’s wing…I would give anything for that.

  But you cannot. All you can do is move forward from where you are.

  It is true.

  So here we are.

  So here we are.

  For a pause I stare at the floor. Just pull air in and out, accepting the pain as my ribs expand and contract. Accepting the emptiness of the quiet.

  You don’t have to feel like this. We could make it stop. You never have to feel like this again.

  Yes, I could have a bit of peace back, if I’d only put the necklace back on.

  But the price. No, no, no. That is over now.

  What else could you possibly lose at this point?

  I shut my eyes. Everything hurts, in my body and deep into my soul. I am tired and weary and burned. Just the idea of Calipher’s aura pulsing through me again is like a sweet aloe.

  I only took it off for Bastus anyway, and look what good it has done—none at all.

  And now he has abandoned me, and I am so completely broken down from all that has happened that I can hardly stand to move.

  A seed of outrage stretches and grows through me.

  Calipher would not want this for you. He wanted you happy.

  Calipher. Who loved me and wanted me to have everything. Who never told me I was wrong, who never scolded me. And I’m going to hide away his gift for someone who has done just the opposite, and then abandoned me?

  No.

  I push myself off the dusty ground and pull a chair over to the cupboard, stretch up on top of it to get all the way to where I hid the box. It takes a few tries to push up on my tiptoes and nudge the box out to where I can finally grasp it in my hand. Even just holding the box close to me is enough to start making me feel better. The heaviness in my chest begins to ease and the house doesn’t look quite so dark anymore.

  When I place the sparkling chain around my neck, the magic slides into me. It is such a great relief I sigh.

  It is even more than I remembered. It fills me with peace. It is as if Calipher stands just behind me. My grief and sadness and anger all begin to break away.

  I sit and let its magic heal me. By nightfall, the pain is gone and all I can feel is his presence, the peace. All else is nothing.

  I will never take it off again.

  CHAPTER 18

  WITH THE NECKLACE on, everything becomes easy. For the first time in my life, the restraint breaks away and I feel as if I am gliding.

  It is not that I do not hear the names the others call me when I go into the village. Or that I do not see the expressions on their faces as they step back. But the necklace is like a veil around me, and their mutterings are too separate from me to matter. They are only jealous of how their men adore me. Or the way Calipher favored me over them.

  Over time I come to the village less and less—why bother, with so many eager to do it for me?

  The realm slowly falls apart. When word reaches us of the First Creatures banding together against the gods, nothing is able to shock us anymore. The villagers are simply too overheated and sun-drained.

  Some shrug and get on with their lives. But others, they hold the gods responsible for the tempestuous weather. I cannot blame them—the earth is crumbling apart below our very feet from dehydration. How much more can we bear? How much more will They ask of us?

  Some are ready to leave everything to go join the First Creatures in their fight. Rumors float that the First Creature rebels are in a neighboring village and it is like an ember landing on dried straw—a fire engulfs us. The village begins to scatter in the wind, carrying the fire with them. No being, they say, has the right to limit another. Not with Will, not with rules, not with the Texts. And they will fight with the others to stop it. The unrest of the town, a toxic mix of fear and anger, lasts only days as the people pack their things and set off their separate ways. It feels like a tornado has swallowed us up.

  The weather too, gets wilder and wilder by turns, storms and droughts, always furious.

  But my boys stay with me.

  With the necklace around my neck, I am safely cocooned from it, and it does not matter to me what the weather does. Or the town.

  The necklace whispers its secrets to me, and I learn how to keep the men under control. How to command them to do my bidding. How to temper their edginess by bringing them to my bed. It keeps the fear and loneliness of the world from swallowing me up.

  This was what he wanted. He wanted you to be loved, and look, you are adored by all of them, the necklace whispers. It is true.

  All is good. All is easy and painless.

  By the time my belly begin to swell, it is impossible to know who the father is. And
I do not care. This strange thing growing within me is like a foreign invader, unwelcome and slowly taking me over. Even from behind the veil of the necklace, a thread of fear sneaks into me.

  CHAPTER 19

  THE MONTHS PASS in a blur.

  Finally the baby comes, in a furious toil of terror and sweat that goes all through the night. Peri comes to me and helps me through it. Gods bless her, she’s stood by the village through it all, even as the other First Creatures have abandoned us, and taken on duties as an ambassador to all the gods, not just Gloros. At first her aura amplifies my fear at what is happening, but she uses her powers to lessen my distress and my pain.

  When finally she takes it from me and cleans it, she sighs.

  “Oh, Nia, how could you?”

  “What?”

  Even through the soothing aura of the necklace, labor took too much out of me. I lie on the bed and wait for her to come to me.

  But she does not say anything more. She simply places my baby girl in my arms. She is beautiful. She is perfect.

  She looks up to me with blank, ice-blue eyes that are all too familiar.

  “Oh.” It is all I can muster.

  “He would never have left, if he knew, I am sure of it,” Peri says. “He would come now.”

  “No!” Panic seizes me. “Peri, swear it to me that you will not tell him. He cannot know.”

  The last thing I want is for Bastus to come crawling back to me out of some sense of duty, to pin him here to this place he has escaped. The question creeps into my mind despite myself—does Peri know where he is? I cannot bring myself to ask.

  Peri stays until finally I talk her into leaving. My boys can take care of me. These days, there is great need for her out in the world, so many other things for her to tend to in Gloros’ name. Besides, she reminds me of days long past, when everything was simpler. It causes a strange fuzzy ache somewhere deep under all my layers.

  Before she leaves, she comes and sits at the edge of my bed. “Nia, there is one more thing we must discuss.”