Heir of Thunder (Stormbourne Chronicles Book 1)

by Karissa Laurel

  The Fantazike men were trained to fight the attacks they often suffered as a consequence of their lifestyle. They fared better than the villagers, who lost some food stores and livestock, but the greatest toll was the loss of their daughters. Four young women disappeared in the chaos, and, Niffin discovered, Malita was one of them.

  Farrin, the Fantazikes’ horse breeder, lent Niffin the fastest beast in the herd. By the time he rode into the desert, following the bandit’s tracks, the sun had risen high and the oppressive heat, without more provisions and better planning, made going after the brigands a deathly pursuit. In bleak defeat, Niffin gave up and returned to Chagda.

  The wailing of distraught mothers echoed throughout the day. When his people could no longer bear the misery of the villagers, they packed their airship and flew out of Chagda as quickly as they came into it. He wondered, in the dark hours when he could not easily find sleep, if his forbidden feelings for a foreigner brought the curse of the Gytshan bandits upon his and Malita’s people.

  Chapter 19

  Malita made Niffin translate the parts of her story he didn’t know, the parts about how the Gytshans rode hard for several days, and one girl died on the cross desert journey. They left her body to the sun, wind, and sands. The men only stopped when they arrived in Cro. The city boasted a large port built on an ancient river called the Iteru. The bandits took two girls into the heart of the city, and Malita never saw them again. The men loaded her onto a barge that traveled the river until it emptied into the Meridian Sea.

  Pirates met the bandits in the Iteru delta and paid the Gytshans to transfer the Chagdan girl into the hold at the bottom of their ship. Along the way, the pirates filled the other cages around Malita with girls of other nationalities, including me.

  “She never lost her joy,” I told Niffin. “She was like a firefly in the darkness. She made a horrible situation seem bearable.”

  His violet eyes slanted in my direction. “I can’t believe I’ve found her again. I left my family for close to a month hunting her trail. I even found one of the bandits in Cro, but he would tell me nothing.” Niffin turned back to Malita and said something in her language. Her face hardened for a moment, but she shook it off, patted his cheek, and replied in her usual, sweet tone.

  “I’ve told her that I searched for her,” he said. “I told her I killed that man for refusing to speak.”

  My heart shuddered and my blood turned icy. He spoke of killing in such a casual manner. I wondered if he had done such a thing before? Again, Gideon’s voice echoed in my thoughts, chiding me for trusting so easily. Niffin’s purple eyes now seemed a bit colder.

  I sat up and stretched. My back and shoulders popped in protest, but I felt less like a mound of slowly rising dough than before. The time had come for me to take my leave. “I appreciate your hospitality Niffin, but I should get back to town before I’m missed. Will Malita be coming with me?”

  He translated my words and Malita’s eyes sharpened. Excitement bubbled in her reply. Whatever she said was more than a simple answer to whether she planned to return with me or stay with him.

  “She said you want to go to Pecia,” he said. “She asks if I can help you.”

  Malita’s bubbles spilled over into me. “Can you? I have some money put away. I can pay you,” I said.

  He laughed and waved his hands, dismissing my offer. “It’s your lucky day, my friend. We happen to be traveling to Pecia in two days’ time. That is the next destination in our journey.”

  The sudden change in my luck startled me. Tears prickled in my eyes, and I blinked to chase them away. “You can take me? Your family won’t mind?”

  “I will speak on your behalf, and I believe they will accept. If you have money, though, it would not harm you to pass some of your coins through the hands of our craftsmen and trinket makers as we go.”

  I grinned and nodded, and the room sloshed. I put my hands over my ears and closed my eyes until the sensation subsided. “What was in that tea?”

  Niffin chuckled and changed the subject. “I will take you to Pecia, dear Evie. It is the least I can do for bringing Malita to me again.”

  We walked as a group back to the Bull and Ram, but when I opened the door and turned back to usher in Malita, Niffin had slipped a possessive hand about her waist. She had pulled him close to her side, and I couldn’t mistake her intentions.

  “Goodnight,” I said. “I hope to see you again soon.”

  “Two days,” he said, nodding. “I will come for you myself.”

  I motioned to Malita. “Be good to my friend.”

  Niffin bowed before sweeping her toward the road. When the shadows had swallowed them, I scuttled up to the attic, anxious to get as much sleep as possible before another grinding day of work. Sleep did not come easily, though. The attic was lonely and eerie without my roommates. The excitement of finding passage to Pecia and the possibility of reconnecting with Gideon kept sleep at bay for a long time.

  My stomach grumbled when I once again considered that Gideon might have been glad for our separation and the release from his obligations. Maybe he didn’t wait for you in Pecia. Maybe he thinks you drowned and has gone on to Dreutch without you.

  I sighed. Don’t worry about Gideon and what may or may not be, I told myself. Jackie had pursued me to Braddock and seemed to cherish our brief friendship. Perhaps he cared for me enough to help me, if I could find him in Pecia. But it was a huge city, and searching for Jackie might have been like looking for a grain of rice in an oat feed bag. What do I expect Jackie to do for me, even if I do find him?

  As a stranger on a strange continent, Malita was a friend, but she had lost as much as I had, and she probably longed to return to Chagda, to her home. I had no home. Not anymore. I could have stayed there in that attic for the rest of my life and no one would have cared. Maybe Gerda would have cared, and maybe Jackie, but he would forget me quickly—our time together was so brief. Would Gideon care?

  One step at a time.

  I would get to Pecia. Then I would decide what to do from there.

  Chapter 20

  Even though I detested the grueling work of keeping The Bull and Ram clean, I couldn’t deny Anatella and Antonio had done me a great kindness by giving me a job and a place to sleep. Guilt weighed heavy in my heart as I approached them the evening before my departure. I meant to tell them of my intentions to travel on to Pecia with the Fantazikes, but I felt as though I would be betraying them, somehow.

  “Anatella, she say she hope you might stay, but she know you have a... what is the word?” Antonio scratched his chin as he thought. Anatella patted his arm, encouraging him to continue. They sat with me in the empty dining room where I had asked them to join me. “She say you have a destiny—is this right?”

  “Destiny means that someone has a pre-determined purpose for their life,” I said. “Don’t know if I believe in such a thing, though.”

  Antonio nodded his head. “Yes, destiny. Anatella say you have something bigger for your life than this place.” He jabbed a finger at the table. “She say she see it around you like a light. I say maybe she loca.” Antonio swirled his index finger around his temple to indicate a mixed up brain.

  Anatella didn’t miss the gesture and swatted her brother before rattling off another round of words. He cringed, but translated again. “She say if she wrong, you come back here. She will find work for you. You work good. She like you.”

  His sister’s eyes glowed, and she patted my hand.

  I smiled back. “Tell her I like her, too, and tell her....” During my few weeks in San Marena, I had learned a few words, and knew how to express my thanks. “Gracias, Anatella. Muchas, muchas gracias.”

  Anatella’s smile broadened and she blinked as if she had something in her eye.

  “Antonio,” I said, but stopped and cleared my throat. My eyes burned, but I had sworn I would get through this without crying. “I like you, too, and thank you for all that you’ve done. You have been a go
od friend—a miracle. Remember?”

  He cut his gaze to the tabletop. A pink flush lit his cheeks. “Yes, yes, you maybe write me? Tell me about Pecia. It will be good for me to practice this way.”

  “I’ll write. I promise.” I didn’t have so many friends in my life that I could afford to forget any of them.

  ***

  Before I left San Marena, one more person remained to whom I needed to say goodbye. Antonio drew a simple map for me, and I followed it to the front doors of the cathedral where Morello had deposited Nathalie and the other girls after our daring escape. I went around to the side door and tapped the knocker.

  The same, aged kareeyatid from our previous visit greeted me at the door in her brilliant red robes and wimple. I bent my knee and bowed my head before her. When I rose up and faced her, she smiled at me and said, “Nathalie?”

  “Sí, madre.” Yes, mother.

  She ushered me into a cool stone hallway lit by fragrant oil lamps. Then she shut the door behind me and motioned for me to follow her down a long, dim corridor, through another door, around several corners, and finally outside again, into a courtyard. A dark headed girl knelt over a bed of green plants, working in the dirt with a stick.

  My escort cleared her throat. “Nathalie?”

  She turned, saw me, and smiled. She stood, brushing her hands on her apron. “Evie, what a wonderful surprise.” Nathalie approached and brushed a soft kiss across each of my cheeks. “Madre Angelina, le presento mi amiga, Evie. Evie, this is Mother Angelina. She is the leader of the kareeyatids here.”

  Mother Angelina said something to Nathalie and smiled at me. Then she turned and left the courtyard.

  “She said she will leave us to visit,” Nathalie explained.

  “What are you working on?” I asked, motioning to Nathalie’s bed of greenery.

  “I’m weeding the herb garden.”

  I stepped closer and examined the neat rows of plants. “My housekeeper had an herb garden. It’s what I remember about her most. She always smelled like comfrey.”

  “We have comfrey.” Nathalie crouched and fingered the wide, flat leaf of a little plant growing in a round and bushy configuration. “Good for many things.”

  “So they’ve found a place for you already? You’ll be the herb gardener for the kareeyatids?”

  Nathalie chuckled and shook her head. “No. They will not let me stay unless I take my purity vows, and it is a little too late for that, I am afraid.”

  “So what will you do?”

  “They have found a job for me. I will be a governess again.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  Nathalie shrugged and smiled a sad smile. “It is better than being a slave, no? And I like to teach.”

  “What about the other girls?”

  Nathalie knelt before her garden and poked her stick deep beneath a stubborn weed. She pried it lose and tossed it aside. “Marie is thinking of staying. She likes the library and the librarian is even older than Mother Angelina. She needs an apprentice. Salma and Heba are having a harder time. They are Gytshan and not so easily accepted in this city. Mother Angelina has said they can stay until something works out. For now, they have jobs in the kitchen and in the laundry. It’s not much better than slave labor, but they are treated kindly, and fed well, which is something, at least.”

  “If you could. Would you go back to Galland?”

  Nathalie’s head jerked up and she peered at me with a wary gaze. “Why do you ask?”

  I told her about my encounter with the Fantazikes and their proposal to carry me to Galland. “I could probably convince them to bring you, too.”

  Nathalie gaped at me. Several times she opened her mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. Her eyes watered, and her sudden display of emotion alarmed me. On the pirate’s ship, and in the wagon, and even in the cellar of a slave trader, she had showed only cool determination and self-composure. What had I said to break her cool composure?

  “I’m sorry, Nathalie, I didn’t mean to upset you.” I bent and crouched beside her. “I just assumed—”

  Nathalie waved me off and wiped her eyes, leaving a smudge of dirt on her cheek. “No, no. It is kind of you to give me this opportunity. Generous of you to ask. But no. There is nothing in Galland for me, anymore. I have a job here, and the kareeyatids, and Salma and Heba and Marie, and that is more than anything I have had in a long time. I will stay, Evie.” She sniffed and smiled. “But I will think of you always.”

  I hugged her. “I’ll think of you, too. And maybe I’ll see you again, someday. You never know what will happen.”

  ***

  The next day Malita and Niffin arrived at the Bull and Ram to collect me. Anatella and Antonio saw me off with hugs and the remaining wages she owed me. Anatella also presented me with a small package containing a woolen shawl similar to the one she always wore. It made me think of my Thunder Cloak, and I inhaled a few deep breaths to chase away my tears.

  Antonio stood beside his sister and seemed more sober than usual. He kissed my hand and performed a gentlemanly bow, but had little, for once, to say. Anatella wiped her eyes and sent me off with a stiff thump to my back.

  I had no possessions to bring on our trip, but I had retrieved Malita’s drawing things for her. Her delight showed clearly on her face when I presented them to her.

  Niffin’s people launched the first of their airships as we arrived. I climbed the Charosvardo’s swaying ladder again—more courageously than last time—and followed Niffin and Malita into the galley that smelled like rising bread and garlic. Here, Niffin introduced me to the rest of the Tippany family. His father, Timony, bowed before disappearing to the deck to prepare for liftoff. Niffin’s mother, Emorelle, eyed me warily, obviously uncertain of my status as a foreigner and a stranger. Niffin’s silver haired grandmother stood behind Emorelle and greeted me with sparkling eyes and a mischievous grin.

  I curtsied to them both as ladylike as I could manage in my boots and road worn attire. “Thank you for allowing me to travel with you. You’ve done me a great kindness, and it is appreciated.”

  “My son says you have money?” Emorelle asked.

  “Yes, madam. I have saved a little.”

  “Then you will buy yourself something more appropriate to wear. We will not abide you looking like a vagrant.”

  “Mother.” This admonition came from Niffin’s sister, Melainey, who looked like a younger replica of their mother. “Have some pity on her.”

  Emorelle said something in the Fantazike tongue, and it made their grandmother cackle, revealing her lack of teeth. “You take this girl and find her some clothes of yours,” Emorelle said in Inselgrish. “If she is going to be our guest, she will abide our ways.”

  “I don’t mind,” I said. “Your clothes are beautiful. I would be happy to wear something so lovely.” I preferred the comfort of my split skirt for riding, but what were the chances of saddling a horse while flying hundreds of feet in the air? Besides, I had worn my clothes for several weeks straight, washing them occasionally in Anatella’s dish sink when my attire gathered too many stains. I welcomed the change.

  Emorelle nodded and dismissed us with a wave. Melainey led Niffin, Malita, and me to her room, grumbling under her breath the whole way. She dug through her trunks and supplied me with a long indigo skirt, wide leather belt, a soft muslin shirt, and a fitted, black velveteen jacket.

  “How long do you suppose it will take us to get to Pecia?” I asked Niffin while his sister put away her discarded clothing.

  “A few days. We could go faster, but we will probably stop along the way in some of the small towns and try our luck for a night or two. We cannot afford to go long distances without making a profit on the way.”

  “I don’t mean to offend, but why the constant travelling? Do the Fantazikes have a home? A country to call their own?”

  His face flushed, and he shook his head. “Our home is the sky, Evie. It is the only place that ever truly acc
epted us.” He shrugged and smiled as if it was no matter, but my question had obviously poked a sore spot.

  Niffin and his family deserved my deference, not my intrusiveness, so I swallowed my remaining questions. Their secrets were theirs to keep, and I had no right trying to pry them loose. I had done nothing to deserve that kind of trust.

  “Father is almost ready for lift off,” Niffin said. “If you have never experienced it, then you do not want to miss it. I’ll meet you in the hallway after you’ve dressed.”

  Melainey declined her brother’s offer, preferring to stay in her room with a new book that she had acquired in San Marena. After I slipped into my borrowed clothing, Niffin led Malita and I away from Melainey’s room and down a corridor that opened onto the deck. Before we stepped into the open air, he halted at a closet and tugged open the door. “The air is frigid at the altitudes we travel. The winds can be fierce, so grab a coat and a pair of goggles before you go out.”

  In the closet, we found a row of dusky colored cloaks of a coarse fabric coated in oil, like a rain slicker. Shearling lined the inside, providing an additional layer of warmth. A collection of leather and brass goggles with tinted lenses sat on a shelf above the coats. After Malita and I suited up, we fell against each other, laughing at how ridiculous we looked.

  “You look like a creature from a story book,” I said to her. “A goblin.”

  She laughed again and said something in a funny, deep voice. She pointed emphatically at my goggles and coughed a strange little growl. Did her village have myths about strange creatures as well? I’ll have to ask Niffin, sometime.

  We joined Niffin and his father on deck. Timony stood at the ship’s helm behind a large wooden steering wheel. “It works almost exactly like a sea vessel,” he told us. “We float on air currents and the wheel controls the rudder to turn us in the direction we wish to fly.”