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Second Edition
Copyright © 2012 A.E. Marling
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Cover illustration by Eva Soulu
Graphic design by Raymond Chun
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Editors: Kelcy Perry, Saladin Ahmed
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Special thanks to the Reading Vanguard:
Stephanie, Zed, Vylar, Corie, Dan, and Christina
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First eBook publication: December, 2012
Contents:
World Map
Chapter 1: Shadow Dress
Chapter 2: Sky Dress
Chapter 3: Lord of the Feast
Chapter 4: Ring of Horns
Chapter 5: Tremors
Chapter 6: Steam Vents
Chapter 7: Ravenous Wind
Chapter 8: The Bright Palm
Chapter 9: Cinder Dusk
Chapter 10: Tumble Giant
Chapter 11: Price of Healing
Chapter 12: Steam Dress
Chapter 13: Trial by Rice
Chapter 14: Towers of Loam
Chapter 15: Cinder Storm
Chapter 16: Fire Dress
Chapter 17: Jewels of Flame
Chapter 18: The Crutch
Chapter 19: Trial by Teeth
Chapter 20: Star-Fall Dress
Chapter 21: Hidden Within
Chapter 22: Cliff Overlook
Chapter 23: Judgment
Chapter 24: Death Wish
Chapter 25: Redemption
Chapter 26: Volcano Dress
Chapter 27: Last Trial
for those who love
adventures of imagination
and read fantasy,
from all countries
and flights of life
Saving lives terrified Celaise. The people she rescued would see her, and they would know what she was. The villagers might thank her by piling rocks on her until she could not breathe. Or by binding her hands and legs and leaving her beneath the savanna sun. Maybe even throw her into the volcano.
The village was stalked by beasts. Celaise had tracked the predators to a cluster of huts built on the side of a steaming mountain. Starlight glistened off the bony plates of their backs as they slunk around the homes, shoulders massive enough to break walls. She wanted to help the villagers. Had to.
Celaise brewed her magic into a spell, and shadows pooled around her. They soaked up her skirt, swaying and twining in filigrees on her bodice, black on black. A shawl of darkness flowed around her shoulders and chest, cascading down her arms as silk and sifting back into the fabric of night. Cool against her skin and smooth.
The elders had warned Celaise as a girl what awaited a person with her powers. Now, at sixteen, she could tell those sacks of wrinkles more than they would ever want to know. Her magic simmered within her as a sensation of hunger.
She drifted through the village of squat huts. Celaise trembled at the thought of tribesmen spotting her, a patch of darkness in the shape of a gown. Any of them might push aside the hide leather stretching across doorways and peek out. Her presence tended to disturb people from their sleep, but she had to warn them somehow.
Black lace and ribbons of shadow trailed from her hands as she ran them over the sides of the huts. Wake, she thought, before more nightmares come.
The hunting pack circled around the village to reach a pen of cattle. Beasts in the shape of boulders seemed to slide between blots of shrubs and ridges of mountain.
One of the pack's young skittered past Celaise. It looked like a flabby dismembered hand, and she cringed. She had seen one of the tarantula-sized vermin paralyze a zebra so it could suck its blood. Mud-plastered sticks creaked as its fleshy legs crept up the side of a home.
Celaise knew she would have no better chance to fight the beasts. Only she was not sure which she feared more, the predators or their human prey.
Jerani awoke without knowing why.
He worried that the cows may have grown restless, but when he listened he heard only his sister's yawn. He was sorry she had woken. She needed sleep, at her age.
Her fingers cupped the side of her lean face. Lashes flickered open, and her eyes shone up at him in the glow of the dying fire. “Why're you up?”
Jerani thought that the mountain must have trembled under them. That might explain the tightness of his unease, but he did not want to say it. The volcano goddess frightened children, and he hated seeing his sister cry.
Instead of speaking, he folded both her hands in one of his and held her. She seemed tense. Her layers of braids brushed across his shoulder. “Don't worry,” he said.
“If I can't worry,” she said, “can I be afraid?”
Jerani pressed her hands together. He wished he knew what to tell her.
Sounds leaked in through the smoke vent, of cows stomping and blowing.
“Something's rousing them.” Jerani had to let go of his sister to rummage for his war club. He scooted toward the door flap.
“Can't go out,” his sister said. “It's night!”
He wanted nothing more than to stay in the safety of the hut and comfort his sister. The night had only grown more dangerous since the last rainy season.
“Have to go,” Jerani said. He untied the leather door. “The Greathearts protect their cows.”
Jerani's younger brother snorted awake. “We being raided? I want to fight.”
“You stay with your sister.” Jerani tied the door closed behind him.
The night air prickled his arms and his neck. The muscles of his stomach clenched and refused to let in a deep breath. Jerani had gone outside at night before, but the shadows had never felt so watchful.
Warriors scrambled past, the colors of their short robes all grey in the starlight. They carried war clubs and horn spears uphill to the herd's pen. Jerani had forgotten his spear inside, and he smacked his thigh with his club in frustration.
One warrior's gaze darted down to the village, then back up to the fence of thorny acacia branches that guarded the cows. “Their horns are up.”
The cows lowed, shouldering each other. They're afraid, Jerani thought.
“Can't be smelling Rock-Backs,” another warrior said. “They'd never climb this far.”
The ground trembled with the beat of hooves. Horns burst apart the thorny fence, and the cows stampeded toward the village in a wave of dust. The herd barged between huts, heads tossing, black eyes wide. Jerani leaped out of their way.
Warriors shouted. “Stop her!”
“Catch her!”
“Grab her neck!”
Jerani spotted the lead cow, Gorgeous. If he could get hold of her lip and stop her, the herd would calm itself.
“Quick!” The man's voice cracked with surprise and desperation. “Before she runs them off the mountain!”
A warrior sprinted toward Gorgeous, and Jerani dashed after her, too. His heart thudded in his chest. The herd was an onslaught of horns. A cow would never harm him on purpose, but this night had maddened them.
The other warrior grabbed at the lead cow's head, but Gorgeous was thrashing and shoved him against the side of a hut. When her horns jerked toward Jerani, he snatched one with his free hand and pushed himself out of harm's way. He tumbled and sprang out from the tread of hooves.
“What's biting her?” The other man pointed to Gorgeous.
When Jerani had gripped her horn, he might have seen a shriveled creature clinging to the cow's back. His free hand fretted, straightening his knee-length warrior robes.
Gorgeous bellowed, her voice climbing
multiple notes of terror.
Her tail lashed, and Jerani squinted at something the size of a hand between her shoulder blades. Its finger-thin head dug into the cow's spine.
“A Skin-Back!”
Seeing the deadly pest attached to the herd's best cow was a punch to the throat. Jerani would rather another tribe stole ten heifers than think of Gorgeous' pain. A Skin-Back was an immature Rock-Back, the young blood-sucker to the massive meat-gobbler. Jerani thought, Wish there'd been more wildebeests for them. Then they might've left us alone.
Gorgeous froze, and the cows behind her plowed into her backside with indignant moos. Two legs straight and stiff, the other two twitching in the air, Gorgeous rolled onto her side and lay still.
The herd trudged to a stop but stayed restless. The whites at the edges of their eyes showed as they heaved and lowered their heads, looking about, trying to see their fallen leader. They stamped, flanks quivering.
A woman stepped into view, the ends of her white braids adorned with polished horn pieces. She pointed to the fallen cow and spoke with the authority of the tribe's Holy Woman.
“Lift Gorgeous. Now.”
Jerani bowed his head, feeling sick and raw. The Holy Woman must not have seen the Skin-Back.
Men ducked their way under horns, into the herd, but stopped and stiffened at a noise. Like mallet against stone, it rapped several times. Then the sequence repeated from a second direction. And a third.
Warriors clutched their weapons to their chests, eyes whipping about. The herd's bull snorted and smacked his hooves against the ground.
A shout went up. “Rock-Backs!”
“Form horn rings! Get Gorgeous on her legs.”
The Holy Woman dropped to her knees, hands upraised toward the shadow of the volcano that blocked all the stars to the south. “You hear me, Angry Mother! Protect your children.”
The Skin-Back on Gorgeous pulsed as it slurped blood, but Jerani tore his eyes away to see a steer-sized monster lope between two huts. Several smaller creatures stalked after it, all with plated backs and shoulders broad and bare. None of the monsters appeared to have a neck or head.
Jerani had never fought a Rock-Back before. He gulped down his fear and jogged to the side of the older warriors.
What looked like a torso with four legs leaped onto a cow. Claws flashed, and the cow loosed an anguished cry.
Cows ran in all directions, forming clumps of horns only for the groups to break apart again as cows quick-stepped to join other packs. A few cows stood by their fallen leader, who—between spasms—had begun dragging herself into the shadows with her forelegs.
Spears and clubs lifted as four warriors charged one of the Rock-Backs. “Bash it to vulture feed!”
“Break its bony back!”
The Rock-Back turned to Jerani. Crystal flecks on its shoulders glinted like a dozen spider eyes.
The monster dug claws into the ground and turned about, running on four legs away from the men and crashing through a hut wall. Waves of anxiety burned through Jerani as he heard women crying.
He glanced back to his own hut, to see his sister scampering out to pat a cow's side. “Here's Sweet Eyes. Are you worried?”
Jerani ran and scooped his sister up. He shouted into their dark hut after his brother. “Why'd you let her out?”
“Wedan went to help.” His sister clapped her hands. “Gone to fight.”
Jerani found the family spear missing. Telling his sister to play the silent and still game, he raced out to look for his brother.
When Jerani spotted him, his younger brother was flailing a spear too big for him and too small to fend off a Rock-Back.
A calf teetered in front of Celaise, an adorable animal of wobbly legs connected with an afterthought of a body. It bawled and hiccupped as it missed a step and landed on its front knees.
A predator bounded toward the fallen calf. Bands of carapace armored the beast's rounded back. Its front shoulders appeared unadorned, an emptiness between them where Celaise would expect a head. She had not seen an honest skull among the creatures, and her lord had called them the Headless.
A slit opened on this one's chest, rib cage spreading with rows of fangs running down its underside. A tongue lolled toward the ground with a trail of drool.
The baby cow cried. Its knees hit each other, and it toppled over.
Celaise took two steps toward the calf before drawing back, gloved hands clenched under her chin. She wanted to save the calf, the gentle creature that would never think to harm her.
Her gown of darkness had hid her so far. Tribesmen had run past. Their skin was dark as comforting shade. Predators plodded by, but if she started attacking the no-headed beasts, they all would notice. They would see her.
Remember, Celaise thought, protect yourself first. Breathe. Live. Survive.
A boy with a kettle belly bumbled into view and stood over the calf, waving his spear like a flag. “Roll off, you! Off, you tail-biter!”
The Headless squared its enormous shoulders at the boy as if it could see him. The beast had no eyes, but Celaise guessed it had good hearing, wherever it kept its ears.
The predator drummed its forelegs into the ground. Thump! Thump! Thump!
The calf stayed on its knees, trembling. The pudgy boy took another wild swing. The Headless hopped back a step. Arching patterns of crystal glistened on its rocky back, and the beast waited and seemed to watch.
One of the hunting pack's young leaped from a roof and spread its arms. Loose skin unfolded and stretched into veined membranes between its limbs, and the creature glided onto the boy's shoulders and jabbed with its needle head.
The spear flew from a slackening hand. As the boy toppled beside the calf, an aroma of terror seeped from him, and before Celaise could help herself she breathed it in. Her magic told her the fear smelled of candied papaya and fresh maize bread, dripping with caramel and peanut oil. She doubted these tribesmen had ever tasted such delights from the distant land of her birth.
Power surged inside her, crashing into her head. A simmering wish burned within her to embrace the boy, to enfold him in the power of her dress and Feast on his fear. His fright would be so much sweeter if he died in her arms.
Her hunger lurched her forward, even as she hissed to herself. “No! No!”
Celaise's life depended on attacking the Headless, not the humans.
A tribesman reached the boy first. He wore a wrap that reminded her of a monk's robe, though it ended halfway down his toned thighs. The braids of his hair bounced on his shoulders. A starburst of scars spread from each of his eyes, and he stared the Headless down. The brutal scars stood at odds with his youth, making Celaise feel a moment of pity for him. Celaise doubted he was older than she. He feared for his life and the boy's, she could tell from a savory scent that wafted from him.
In spite of his worry he lunged forward, cudgel cracking into the beast's shoulder. His movements were fluid as he spun around the Headless, his weapon sweeping in to bludgeon a bristled leg then spinning away to thwack a flank. He pushed himself off the beast's side, pivoted on the ball of his foot and struck a third time on its rump.
The Headless grunted and whimpered as it ran off. Celaise counted herself lucky to see such a brave dance around the predator. With a life as uncertain as hers, she had to treasure each moment. What she saw next hit like a slap from a hand dipped in ice water.
A second predator pounced from the shadows and knocked the tribesman to the ground. The cudgel flipped out of his grasp, and he had to raise both hands, pushing back at leathery legs as the beast tried to lean down to bite him. Pointed teeth gnashed along the center of the creature's ribcage, from shoulders to belly.
The man with starburst scars shouted to the pudgy boy while kicking at the beast above him. “Run!”
The boy pawed at the ground, crawling forward with his hands. The thing on his back jiggled and gripped him with all four of its arms.
Terror wafted from the scarred man, h
is cold sweat a blend of cinnamon and cacao. Celaise had never smelled anything so lovely.
She staggered forward, hunger raking her insides. Unless she Feasted on his fear, she would collapse. Her magic would shrivel. The world would fall away from her and leave her imprisoned in her own mind. Every pulse of her heart pulled her closer to him, even as she screamed within herself.
No! You're to harm no one. The beasts, you must kill the beasts. You promised.
Her power stirred at her bidding, and the few mouthfuls of fear she had stored in her stomach fermented into magic. Heat pulsed from her bones to her skin while her fingertips numbed with cold.
Shadows exploded from her. Her gown shone with daylight.
He glanced up at her with striking ebony eyes, his mouth opening in awe. His brows rose, except for where scars had left his face taut and dead. Celaise wondered who had so harmed him.
Her bright hands reached down. Whether to consume him or save him, she could not say.
As jaws gnashed above Jerani's head, a nearing light gave him hope. He thought of his fellow warriors charging in with firebrands and spears, prying the Rock-Back off. It bore all its bulk onto him. Saliva stung his eyes, breath blasting his face. He could not keep the monster's teeth away for long.
From the corner of his eye he saw that the figure leaning closer carried no fire, and Jerani thought it might be his father come back, returning to rescue him. The shame of being caught helpless frothed into fright. His arms trembled and burned under the weight, and he knew he must not turn his attention away from the Rock-Back, but a flicker of blue hope teased his eyes to glance up.
Jerani saw Her. The goddess glided toward him clothed in blue light.
He thought she could only be the goddess, the Angry Mother, the spirit of the volcano come down to save her children. Her short, silvery hair rippled upwards like steam rising from a vent. A face the hue of brown clay contained the burning focus of her flame-blue eyes. And her dress…he did not understand what he was seeing. He was not sure mortals were meant to.
Gown of Shadow and Flame Page 1
