Wild Magic (The Island Book 1)

by C. M. Estopare

  “I thought you may know what that tower is. But I understand now. Come, Outsider. The Shamaness will not be pleased if you return to the village clear-skinned.” Seble tossed a dreadlock from her face, a diamond-shaped scar on her forehead pulsing red in the sunlight. “Come!”

  “Fine.” Ren huffed. So this was Kato’s idea? Have the Shamaness believe Seble was teaching her spear-play all morning while Kato took the consequences for leaving the village without the Shamaness’s approval?

  Ren couldn’t live with that.

  “Look at me.” Seble growled, prowling around Ren in a slow circle. She crouched low, almost squatting. “This is something you must learn, Outsider. Or the Island will eat you alive.” She said, meeting Ren’s eyes. “You’ve fought a Tevran, but they do not compare to me. Brace yourself.”

  Ren’s jaw tightened. Seble was so fucking full of herself. So, she was a teacher, huh? Maybe Ren could knock her down a peg, show her that—even if she saw herself as an expert—there was always someone better.

  Grass and sky stood in Seble’s place. Ren gasped, the butt of Seble’s spear slamming into the center of Ren’s shoulder blades. Collapsing to the ground in a heap, Ren’s spear rolled away from her.

  “Wrong!” Seble screeched, ramming the butt of her spear into Ren’s right hand.

  She swore she heard some bones crack.

  25

  Black and blue bruises were scattered across Ren’s upper and lower arms once Seble was finally done with her. Leading Ren back to the village, Seble deposited her on a wooden bench with a young woman cloaked in a sea-green tunic. She smiled, her two front teeth missing, reached into a pouch and spread a mixture of crushed herbs up and down Ren’s arms. They smelled minty, the cooling sensation immediate once she relaxed against the teakwood wall of the young woman’s hut. Ren’s spear bit into her back, but she ignored it.

  The village buzzed around her, whirling like she was caught in the eye of a storm. Ren closed her eyes. When she opened them, the sun had dipped, the young woman had disappeared and Kato sat opposite Ren. With concentrated precision, he wrung his large hands around a dream-catcher. Threading it, his movements delicate.

  “What do you call it when someone has hurt another badly?” he asked, eying the overlapping threads of the dream-catcher.

  “Fucked.” Ren blurted. “I mean—well, yeah. Fucked.”

  “Seble fucked you.”

  Ren couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

  “The Shamaness knows.”

  That made her straighten.

  “About the Kirabo.” He flicked his laughing gaze at her. “We must hunt them.” At that, his eyes darkened. “But she wants to do nothing but sit and wait for them to attack us again. To ‘incriminate’ themselves, as she put it.”

  “So, she’s using your people as bait?”

  “Exactly.” The dream-catcher’s taut strings sang. “Blood Raids happen almost weekly, now. It is only a matter of time.” He sighed. “People will certainly die if we wait for them to come to us. But,” he shook his head, “she has decreed it. We must follow her commands.”

  That made no sense. “But, you ignored her orders and helped me!”

  “You are mistaken. She told you to forget your past. She said nothing about me.”

  Ren chewed her bottom lip. “But—”

  “Before I met you, our orders were: bring our people to safety. The Kirabo still hold a handful of captives. Our people.” Hunching over the dream-catcher, he watched the sun dance across its pearly strings. “I was simply doing my duty.”

  Pssh, you were bending the rules. “Right.” Ren swallowed her sarcasm. “So, we’re just going to wait?”

  He shot her a confused glance. “We?”

  “Damn right, we!” Ren snapped. “My friend is still out there!” And Ren knew how dangerous the Wilds could be when traveling through it alone. “I’m going to sit my happy-ass here and wait right along with you. When you guys track the Kirabo, don’t think you’re going to leave me behind!”

  He snorted. “Seble told me. She showed you the Northern Shore. Why not go to your people for help?”

  “Because if they don’t know me, then they won’t help me. You and I, we have a common enemy. It only makes sense to stick with you.” Until I get Mia back.

  “The Shamaness will like that.” He said, wrapping a line of thread around the outer edge of the dream-catcher. “Seble will too, even if she doesn’t show it.”

  Right. “I need something else from you.” Ren said, edging toward Kato. “I need to learn to control…this.” Fire danced on her fingertips. Villagers passing by slowed their strides and gaped as they moved along.

  “Moira’s Rage. You might as well learn its name. Or, you could simply call it fire.” He smirked.

  “Well,” Ren said, suppressing the need to roll her eyes, “I need help controlling the fire. I need to be an asset.” No more floundering around.

  “Then you will need a foundation.” He said, meeting her eyes. “Most Mesh children learn the foundations when they are old enough to walk.” Stretching out his arms, Ren watched his muscles bulge and contract as he stretched them. “Besides, it is not up to me.”

  “Then who do I go to?”

  Kato cocked his head, staring up at the dream-catcher as it caught the dying sun. He hummed to himself, thinking. Ren bit the inside of her cheek. How hard would this be? She wasn’t a native, so of course they’d be hesitant to teach her damn near anything about their “foundations”. It was probably some tribal secret. The reason why they can control air and earth and fire. Pulling the dream-catcher back to himself, Kato scooted to face her.

  “I know who we can speak to.” He held the dream-catcher out to her, its smooth bamboo edges rubbed against her ribcage. When she didn’t take it, Kato smiled softly, “It will keep the Mafioso from your dreams. I’ve blessed it.”

  Heat flushed Ren’s face as she took it, her fingers unsure. Her mind screaming—why? Why was he being so nice to her?

  The look he gave her held more questions than answers. Kato shot to standing, breaking eye contact.

  26

  Dangling bells decorated a hut steeped in darkness. A floundering white flame danced in the far corner, far away from the hut’s sliding door.

  Kato stopped Ren at the threshold. “Elder Lindiwe does not speak English as well as I.” He whispered, his voice drowning out the lingering chimes of slender wooden bells hanging from the huts rounded ceiling. “You must be patient, Ren. Do you understand?”

  “I’m not stupid.” Ren snapped, pretty damn tired of Kato talking to her like a kid. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

  He grumbled something under his breath but led her inside. Orange light trickled down from the skylight above, the darkness shivering away from the shallow circle of dying sunlight. In the center sat a crumpled figure. Kneeling on her shins, braided black hair slid over shoulders drowned in heavy prayer beads and tiny necklaces threaded with silky black feathers.

  Kato spoke to her in island-speak, dropping to his knees. Ren followed, but couldn’t touch her head to the floor as Elder Lindiwe brought her gaze over her shoulder slowly. Black marks decorated her cheeks and chin like finely woven thread sewn beneath her dark skin. She didn’t look like an elder. Hell, she could have easily been Ren’s age.

  “Another has already come to me.” The elder’s voice was soft, calm like silver over the surface of an untouched lake.

  A shadow emerged from the corner opposite Ren. Seble peeled herself from the black walls, edging her way around hanging wooden chimes. She hissed at Kato in their sing-song language.

  “Speak so the Outsider grasps.” Lindiwe croaked.

  “Truly?” Seble gawked, fists on her hips. “You will hear her, then? You will throw our roots to the sun? Our traditions?”

  “A Scion is a Scion, Seble. No matter their lineage.” Kato’s voice. He stood to face her.

  Ren jumped up too. “Hold on.” She said, standing between
them. “If you’ve got a problem with me, Seble, you might as well say so now.”

  Seble narrowed her eyes. “It is not with you, Outsider. It is with him.”

  “Shield.” Lindiwe barked. “You will sit.”

  Seble’s lower lip puckered. Dropping her chin to her chest, she muttered in a defeated tone before dropping to her shins.

  “Scions are above you, Shield. Speak.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Seble murmured.

  Lindiwe did not turn. Keeping her back to them, she commanded: “Scions, sit.”

  Kato dropped. Wrapping his fingers around Ren’s wrist, he yanked her down.

  “I need help to—”

  Kato shushed her harshly.

  Ren pinned him with a glare. What was going on here? Did he expect her to just sit and wait? There was no telling when the Kirabo would return—she needed to learn now.

  His eyes screamed—patience. But Ren had none of that.

  “You came through the Veil.” Lindiwe began, lighting a stick of incense standing straight in a bronze bowl between her legs. White smoke wafted up, dancing as the chimes above shivered. Singing. “How is this possible?”

  Kato spoke, though changed tongues. Ren caught Northern Shore somewhere in there. Caught Outsiders and beach.

  “I grasp this.” Lindiwe said. “I cannot ask people I cannot see.” A slow gaze crept over Lindiwe’s shoulder. “Outsider Scion, my question.”

  Right. That elixir stuff made her relive it. “On a helicopter.” Fuck—she wouldn’t know what that was. “Um, from the sky?”

  Kato translated, scrunching his face up as he found the word for helicopter.

  “How is this possible?”

  Fuck if I know lady. “I dunno.” Kato nudged her. Wrong answer. “We just—” she flew her hand through the air. “—flew in.”

  Lindiwe harrumphed. Bringing her eyes back to the incense, she mumbled to herself. To the elders right, Seble snickered.

  “Look, elder,” Ren said, her patience evaporating. “I’m a Scion, right? Well, I need to learn to control the fire—er, Rage—whatever. I came here to learn your foundations. Can you teach me?”

  A chill crept through the sliding door behind them. The sun was dying fast. “Please.” Ren added, regret twisting her gut.

  Kato simply shook his head, face-palming. If only she had kept her stupid mouth shut. Dammit.

  “Yes.” Lindiwe finally said, breaking the silence. “A Scion you are. But Mesh, you are not. Outsider, you grasp nothing.”

  Ren slammed her palms into the thatched flooring. “I want to learn!” I need to.

  “Hmm.” She murmured. “You hold much back.” She brought her palms together. “Enough to wonder.” When Lindiwe reached to tap Seble’s thigh, Seble stood. Ren expected a smug face but instead saw a grim line stretch across Seble’s jaw. “Return when you are raw.”

  Wait, wait—was she telling Ren to leave? Seble took a step forward. “Go on, out.”

  No fucking way. “Wait—”

  “You heard her.”

  Even Kato stood, shoulders slumped. Dejected.

  “No—I’m not leaving. I need to learn this. You can’t just throw me out!”

  Lindiwe sighed. “How much more will you take?”

  Ren shot to standing. “I will do anything, Elder. Please—just give me one chance.”

  “Out.” Seble barked.

  Ren’s reality shattered. Was this woman really going to throw her out for not being “raw” enough? She needed to learn the foundations. She needed to learn to control the fire. If she ever hoped to get Mia back and go home—her home—then she needed to change. She needed to get stronger.

  “Please, Elder. I’m begging you.” Ren clasped her palms together, kissing her thumbs to her forehead. “I will do anything you tell me. No questions. Nothing.”

  By now, Seble was kicking at her. Refusing to touch her as she begged. Pity made Seble’s lip curl.

  “Stop.” Lindiwe called. “Shield, come.” She said, crooking her hand.

  Seble’s face blanched. “You—you are serious? But, Elder—she is an Outsider! Once she learns our secrets she will simply leave and tell her people! They will destroy us—she will destroy us.”

  “I see promise.” Lindiwe said, turning completely. Facing Ren, her face was steel. “Once you learn, you must practice. Do you grasp this?”

  “Yes—yes. I understand!” Ren pressed her forehead to the floor as Kato patted her shoulder. Anything for Mia. Anything to go home!

  Lindiwe pressed her palms together, flattening them. “Then, let us begin.”

  27

  Kato woke Ren before the sun even rose. Stars still winked in the sky.

  “Elder Lindiwe doesn’t sleep.” He told her, smirking. “She will say you are late if you arrive at her hut after the sun has touched it.”

  She arrived well after that.

  “Sit.” The elder bellowed from the shadows, the wood chimes clinking as she exhaled. Ren did as she was told, dropping down beneath the skylight.

  “Will you need me, Elder?” Kato asked, poking his head inside the hut. He meant—do you need a translator? To that, Lindiwe scoffed. He disappeared immediately.

  Lindiwe stood, her bones creaking. Clasping her hands behind her back, she stared at Ren pointedly as she circled around her. “Empty your head. You have much to learn.”

  Did she ever.

  Lindiwe made her sit up straight. Whenever her posture faltered, that earned her one smack of Lindiwe’s staff to the neck. Another for back-talk. Another for snorting or sighing or speaking to her sarcastically. All this to learn some foundation? Ren scoffed. She winced when the staff snapped against her throat.

  Day one: Lindiwe taught her about the Maxims.

  “The Path to Paradise has many gatekeepers. Mesh call these the Maxims.” Great, learning a religion. “The foundation is this: be an asset. If called to duty, act. And, obey the orders of Moira’s mortal shell.”

  Ren ignored the urge to roll her eyes. “Moira’s mortal shell?”

  “Eh, how do you say…” she stabbed the butt of her staff into the ground and puffed out her chest, “leader…Shamaness. Ah, I hear it in your mind.” She grinned, all black teeth.

  Creepy…Ren forced a smile. The Shamaness. So, she had to obey everything that creepy lady said? Easier said than done. She had commanded Ren to forget.

  “Everything.” Lindiwe intoned. “You cannot break the Maxims or you will never see the Path in death.”

  She wanted to shrug so bad—but that stick hurt like a snake bite—no. She wouldn’t. But she sure as hell wouldn’t listen to the Shamaness when she told her to forget.

  Hours passed as Lindiwe went into detail, droning on and on like a professor hogging a podium. Ren’s eyelids became heavy, her stomach argued and twisted. Before long, the sun hung heavy over the sky as Lindiwe went on and on.

  “Am I going to get a break?” that earned her another smack to the neck.

  “Anything, you said. You would do anything.”

  Did that include starving herself and listening to some old bat drone on about maxims and ways and paths? Fuck—it did. And Ren would have to suffer and sit through it. The sun rolled on, Lindiwe’s voice became a buzzing mosquito in her ear.

  When Lindiwe hobbled over to the corner, plopping down with a groan and a snort, Ren looked up. Stars winked in the sky. How long had she been here?

  “Leave.” Lindiwe said. “You cannot sleep here.”

  Ren did as she was told. Once she returned to Kato’s hut she found her spot on the rug gone. In its place was a thick linen bedroll with a dream-catcher hanging from the ceiling, dangling over a cylindrical pillow.

  Kato swept through the hut’s curtain shirtless, his six-pack and broad chest glistening with water. He flashed a grin. “You like it?”

  What could she say? Her eyes roved over his body, her mind slowly registering what he was actually talking about. The dream-catcher. The bed roll. “Yeah.”
She tore her gaze away from his chest—reluctantly.

  “Seble has put together some clothing for you. She’s away training Dreamers, but if you’ll go to her hut tomorrow…”

  “Got it.” Ren snapped. “I mean—thanks.” Where could she get a bath? It just dawned on her that she probably smelled like absolute shit. “Care to tell me where I can wash up?” her stomach gurgled. “And eat?”

  “Sure. I’ll put something together for you while you wash.”

  Turning, he opened the bead curtain for her. Ren stood still, fingers clenched.

  He smirked. “Hard day?”

  Ren simply shook her head.

  “Elder Lindiwe will soften. She likes you.”

  Well, she has a strange way of showing it. “Thanks again, Kato.” She said, ignoring the sarcasm that bubbled up from her stomach like bile. “I’m lucky I ran into you.”

  “The entire tribe is lucky.” He murmured as she slid through the bead curtain.

  Day two: Lindiwe explained Moira and the crystal at her neck.

  Ren made sure to get to the elder’s hut early. Though, still not before the sun.

  “It swirls like blue mist. Do you see?” Lindiwe asked, pulling the crystal up. “Souls slip inside. The departed fuel you.”

  Ren backed away. “What do you mean? There are dead people in there?”

  Lindiwe nodded.

  “How did they get in there?”

  Sighing, Lindiwe dropped the crystal to Ren’s breastbone. “Let that be a story for a time that never comes.”

  Okay…

  “Moira requires her Scions to wear this. Power does not come on its own. It must be fed.”

  “By souls.” Ren retorted. “Fucking souls?”

  A snap to the back made Ren flinch.

  “You will watch your tone with me.” Fuck. Lindiwe was learning the language quick. Maybe it had something to do with how she could somehow read Ren’s mind somehow?

  Ren didn’t like to think about that.

  “Moira blesses Scions with her Breath. Her Lifeblood and Passion. You, Outsider Scion, have been blessed with her Rage.”