Cloud Caller

by Roy C. Booth

  HARREN PRESS PRESENTS

  CLOUD CALLER

  BY:

  ROY C. BOOTH

  &

  BRIAN WOODS

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Harren Press

  Copyright © 2017 Roy C Booth & Brian Woods

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Edited by Samantha Lafantasie and Jesse Duckworth

  Cover by Druscilla Morgan

  Dedications:

  To my daughter: No matter what. And to Druscilla – thank you for keeping us looking good.

  Note From the Publisher

  Hello everyone,

  This is Jesse Duckworth with Harren Press and I need your help. Well … not just me. All small publishers and independent authors need your help.

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  Thank you again for reading the book. If you get the chance, find it on Amazon and tell us what we did right … or wrong.

  Hope you enjoy,

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  Cloud Caller

  SIX ROBED MEN silently took their respective places at the round table, grim faced and determined. After settling in, they stared at one another in silence, waiting for someone–anyone–to speak. They all knew why they were there, but none of them wanted to admit it. Admitting the need for this meeting meant that things were out control, and, more importantly, out of their control.

  Finally, the wizard wearing the sliver miter cleared his throat and said, “The last time we met, the world was in chaos.” He gazed around the room waiting for all to nod in agreement.

  “Aye, and now it is not much different, Thuvalius.” Azurth of Koron lifted his gaze to the glass ceiling that allowed the light of the moon to come in. “See,” he said, pointing, “not a single cloud in the evening sky.” He sighed.

  “Does anyone know where she is?” Corpen, the eldest of the men, asked in a raspy voice, like damp rustling leaves. “Well?”

  A murmur rose amongst the group, all wanting to hear any sign of hope, yet knowing it was not to be had. Thuvalius again broke the silence, rapping the table with his pale knuckles. “Jihan, I believe you were the last to have seen her, lad, were you not?”

  The others rested their searching eyes upon the youngest in the group. He cleared his throat. “The last time I saw her, she was on Withering Mountain, calling in rain clouds to end the drought. She was well with child, and expected to have a birth within the moon phase. That was, of course, quite some time ago.”

  “And the father?” Corpen asked. The very idea that it might be a wizard, possibly a wizard of their order, angered him. Such a child could come into this world and have an unlimited amount of power. One like that would never have to serve under this council.

  Jihan shrugged. “She didn’t frequent with many men, and those she did aren’t likely to brag about it.”

  “Excuse me, why?” asked Fervin the Fat. “I always found her rather attractive, myself.”

  Grand Magus Mekron said, “Pffft, you’d find any woman who smiled or spoke to you attractive, you—”

  “Yes, she is quite fair, that is most certain,” Thuvalius said, restoring order and keeping the topic on track, “but most men believe she would be dangerous to lay with, and, for the most part, rightly so. A woman of that power and lifestyle … it frightens many just to think about it, myself included.” He shuddered slightly at the thought.

  Nods of agreement, coughs and murmurs, all in recognition that his words were true. A Cloud Caller’s responsibility was to the land and to create sufficient rains. That alone created complications enough. All cast their gazes back to Corpen, their ex de facto leader, waiting for instruction.

  “We must find the Cloud Caller. She is the last of her line. The dreaded Dreanu are looking for her. They’re ahead of us in the search.” Corpen sighed and cast his withering gaze at Jihan. The room went silent. All eyes were now focused on their youngest, and least experienced, member. “You must find her, you are the one she trusts most of all. And, mind you, if you fail—”

  “I know,” said Jihan, standing. “Our magic will be gone forever, and we will shrivel, die, and turn into dust. Our magic depends on the strength and overall health of nature. If the birds quit singing and the trees quit growing, magic will cease to flow in our veins. The situation is dire, indeed.” He turned from the table and left.

  A long pause filled the room.

  “Do our hopes ride completely on that young man, or do you have another plan?” the Grand Magus Mekron asked, tenting his fingers as he leaned forward. The rest of the group clearly thought the same, their expressions mirroring his. Jihan was young and foolish– reckless even. Many times he upset the rest of the order with his flashes of discerning immaturity and lack of finesse and discreetness.

  “He is it, gentlemen, there is no doubt about it,” said Corpen, sighing. “For better or for worse–our future, our fate, our world–everythingis now in his hands.” Corpen stood and left the room, and everyone followed behind.

  ***

  Iriana stood at the edge of the cliff, staring into the bright blue sky, singing the song her mother taught her. She sang loud and clear, but could not feel the power within her, nor the tingling at her fingertips as her mother described. Tears welled in her eyes as she called out, begging the clouds to form and come to her. The area beneath her was once rich farmland, and it was dying. The plants were brown and dry instead of green and lush, and there were no signs–no prints, no scat, no shedding, nothing–from any of the local fauna. She tried to keep the promises her mother had made to the simple farmers, but for a year now the rain refused to heed her call, and the land that was once fertile was becoming an ever expanding wasteland.

  She turned when she heard the footsteps behind her. The farmer, Kennai, came to check on her. She shrugged and then sighed. The embarrassment was plain on her face. She felt almost insulted when he smiled at her.

  “A squad of Dreanu warriors searched the camp today and tore through the city looking for you. They are getting desperate and becoming dangerous.” Kennai glanced around. “Have you seen any of them, anyone at all snooping around up here?”

  Iriana shook her head. “No, this place appears deserted; I doubt anyone would come to bother it in search of anything of value, let alone myself.” She kicked a rock and some clods of dirt away from the farmer and herself. “I may not ever get the hang of it,” she admitted.

  “We had rain six times this year, including one
fairly steady downpour, so you have been getting better,” Kennai said,optimistically, though his concern for her shone in his knitted, furrowed brow. Kennai treated Iriana as if she were his own daughter, providing and caring for her the best he and his meager means could. He was a good friend to her mother, and swore years ago to protect Iriana and see to it that she had the means to meet her potential, no matter what it cost.

  “Natural rain–not my gift.”

  “Rain is rain; we shall not judge ill of it or belittle it either way.” Kennai pulled a worn brown pack from his shoulder, offering it to the young woman. “Supplies for the next journey, and for the next attempt.”

  “I don’t deserve them,” she said, cutting him off. “I have not kept the promise made by my mother.” Depression set in as she focused on what she must do.

  “That was her promise, not yours,” Kennai said, comforting her the best he could. He knew she was too hard on herself, and she needed more encouragement than she had been given. If only he were more skilled at oration than he was at plowing.

  “But I killed her,” Iriana shouted, tears swelling in her eyes.

  “No. Do not say that. Never say that. You did not kill her. It was her time to go. You were almost seven when she died. You did not cause it!” he shouted back at her. It was not her fault, and he knew it.

  Iriana glared at him. “She never recovered from having me. Her body never was right, sickly, her strength and endurance sucked out of her by me! And now she is dead. As the only Cloud Caller left in this world, her promises are mine.”

  Kennai scoffed. He feared she was correct, even though he never wanted to admit it. “Please don’t say you are the only one. There is no proof of that. None at all. We still had rain all those years after her death. Surely someone else still knows the art of cloud calling somewhere on our world.”

  “Buren City was destroyed, razed to the ground. I saw it with my own eyes. When the Dreanu decided they needed to control the weather, they captured the few citizens they found useful, and the rest they slaughtered, like cattle that needed to be culled from the herd. All of those Cloud Callers are dead now, which is why they hunt for my mother, not knowing she passed on years ago.” Tears streamed down her face. “And one day they will find out about me, and try to murder me as well.”

  “We would all die to protect you, I and others, including Jass the Hermit. You know this, Iriana.”

  “Yes, you will all die when they find you have been hiding me all this time.”

  The words stung. Kennai cursed, dropped the pack on the ground, leaving the young woman standing there. He cursed some more while climbing down the small mountain. Even as angry as he was, he concealed and erased his tracks, making sure the path to and from was never to be seen. Kennai had done this for years, and by now it was as natural to do so as shielding one’s eyes from the sun.

  Iriana fought against her welling tears, and made her way back to the ledge. Once again, she clenched her fists, stared into the sky, attempted to clear her mind to focus, and sang her heart out.

  Still nothing. Not even a wisp.

  She turned and rushed into her cave. The tears flowed freely.

  Soon thereafter, she sobbed herself to sleep, ashamed of what she had become, ashamed that she had let her mother, Kennai, and all of the others down. The stress was overwhelming and taxed her strength. She sighed and resigned herself to failure for the day.

  Night fell, and Iriana awoke to footsteps scraping the rock outside. Instantly she grabbed her dagger and made her way to the cave entrance, crouching low, ready to defend herself and possibly kill the intruder if need be. She shuddered, thinking of the murderous Dreanu and what they did to young women like herself whenever they captured them. She stayed quiet, but she was certain her movement through the cave alerted the intruder to her presence.

  She was right.

  “Your dagger is not needed, Cloud Caller, I am not here to kill you nor attempt to capture or harm you in any way,” he said evenly.

  She stood, lowered the dagger, and slowly stepped forward into the moonlight. “Who are you and why have you sought me out?”

  A young man, a little older than she, approached her. His appearance gave him away as a Dreanu, and she shrieked. He reached his hand out, silently pleading for her to remain quiet. His uniform, tribal tattoos, and bronze weapons were all she needed to know that he was the enemy.

  “You tricked me,” she said, despair taking hold.

  “No.” He came closer to her. “I have not lied to you. As I said, I am not here to harm you or capture you. I am here to make sure you aren’t captured.”

  “Why?” she asked, confused.

  He didn’t answer.

  “How then?”

  “Two scouts remained here after the rest of the Dreanu left. The town’s leader Kennai, was closely spied upon. They saw him climb the ascent, and they saw you. One guard left to gather more Dreanu to capture you, and the other guard was to watch to make sure you didn’t leave.”

  “And where do you fit in this story?” she asked, nervously, glancing about for any possible chance of escape.

  “I was the one who was ordered to stay and watch to make sure you did not leave.”

  She thought for a moment. “And if I do try to leave?”

  He smiled. “I am supposed to stop you, seize you, and hold you until the others arrive. Tie you up, if I must. I am very capable of doing that, I may add.” He winked at her causing her to pause again.

  “Then you are here to stop me? So you lied to me,” her voice distraught.

  He laughed. “No, I lied to them. Gather your things. They will be here by high sun tomorrow, and we must be far gone by then.”

  “I … I need to get my things.”

  “Do what you must, but hurry. We do not have much time.

  Iriana reentered the cave and retrieved her travel pack, the other worn brown pack, two water skins, her staff, and her cloak. Everything else she owned would have to be left in the cave.

  Soon, she went back outside to the strange young Dreanu man. Cautious as she approached, and still worried she was making the wrong decision. The young man before her could be lying, or could be there to rescue her. Either way, she had to leave. Staying, with an army coming to seize her, was not an option.

  “Good,” he said, helping her put on her travel pack, and then handed her the worn brown pack Kennai had given her.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “We need to be on our way. Come, let's go.” He nodded toward their exit point.

  She stood, blinking.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  She turned, stared at her pack, and then back at him. “What is your name?”

  “I am Theran, son of Bordaye, late of Krilt.”

  “Bordaye?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he said with pride and sorrow both present in his voice.

  “I have heard that name spoken with respect.”

  “He was the only Dreanu to ever marry a Cloud Caller.” The words were matter-of-fact tinged with pride.

  She paused, taken aback by this. “Then … you are a Cloud Caller?”

  The young man’s friendly expression turned sad. “No, when his wife was slain by the Dreanu he married another woman to prove his loyalty to them. I am the son of his second wife. I am not a Cloud Caller or a spellbinder of any kind.”

  “Oh.”

  “Before Father passed away, he instructed me to seek you out, and protect you. He told me he knew your mother, and that she was highly valued and learned colleague of his first beloved wife.”

  “Really?” Iriana asked.

  “Yes, and that he knew you could very well become the most powerful Cloud Caller ever known.” He looked at her hopefully.

  Iriana crossed her arms. “Hmph. I sincerely doubt that.”

  “Why?”

  She raised her hand to him. “Tell me first why your father believed I would become ‘the most powerful Cloud Caller’.”<
br />
  “He said because of your lineage, you would be able to fulfill the role of many Cloud Callers, in many capacities, even though you are only one.”

  She laughed bitterly. “He lied to you, or he was lied to.”

  “My father is not a liar,” the young man retorted defensively with a snort.

  Iriana assessed the change in his mood and regretted saying the deliberate cruel words that hurt his feelings. “Well, I am sorry for the insult, Theran, I apologize.”

  “Accepted.” He forgave her words instantly.

  “But I can’t call a single cloud, let alone enough to reach any so-called greatness. My songs, my magic, are lacking.” She reached down for her pack, threw it over her shoulder, and stepped closer to the young man. “Shall we be off, then, Theran? I must first go down to the city and tell Kennai I am leaving.”

  “No,” he snapped.

  “No?” she asked, almost tearful. She knew if she didn’t say her farewells now that she might never get to. She wasn’t sure where Theran would take her, but she felt he wouldn’t bring her back here, or allow her to travel here ever again.

  “Kennai will be dead by the time you reach him. No one must see you leave, or know you have left.” Theran paused. “We must get ahead of the army and other potential scouts.”

  She stopped. “Dead?”

  “Yes. He lied to the Dreanu since before you were born, and has hidden you from them, tucked away from their ever prying eyes. Kennai would be better off knowing nothing. It will be bad enough they will know you are with me.” Theran smiled. “But they will have to figure out the right way to find me.”

  “How will they search for you?”

  “They will start with the obvious places, and return to the Dreanu occupied lands. Another group will go the opposite way, and head toward the sea, thinking I might be smart enough to sail across to the other lands and seek refuge with the enemies of the Dreanu, for I have some talent as a sailor.”