by Cully Mack
Metal clashed against metal. The aroma of blood and burning flesh sang through the surrounding air, mingling with the shrieks of dying men. The Earth Wielder arrived, and the ground shook beneath Nate’s feet before the walls of the garrison collapsed.
Bishnor and the giants surged forward over the rubble and a wave of gigantic, muscled flesh tore into garrison soldiers who to their credit did not flee.
Nate spied Esha and yelled, ‘Go to their ships, burn them all.’
Zamani swooped and grabbed his rotting head and followed after her.
Before sunrise, the attack was over with one building left standing amongst the debris and ash. Painted on its wall was a large flowering tree with all kinds of winged beasts surrounding it and some had human faces. The beasts were similar to Shemyaza’s chimera but at the same time unfamiliar. He couldn’t place the difference which unnerved him.
Nate hesitated before walking up to it. ‘Send out your leader or we will burn you all.’
A door opened, and a man dressed in a white robe with a woollen weaved belt paused at the top of the steps.
‘Come,’ Nate said, walking towards him.
The aged man had a small hump deforming his shoulders. He surveyed his devastated city and the waiting giants and Wielders standing on the far edge of the stone plaza. He stumbled down the steps and staggered before Nate’s feet.
‘What is your name?’
With the back of his hand, the man wiped the sheen above his top lip.
‘Danel,’ he replied, in a whisper.
Nate understood the name meant, god judges. As he looked into the man’s downturned, brown eyes he wondered which god the man served and if he judged wisely.
He lowered his head to the man’s ear, ‘I hope your god receives you. Tell me what is his name?’
‘He has many unspoken names though some call him the Cloud Rider.’
‘When you meet him tell him, I had no choice.’
Danel’s eyes flicked towards Nate’s, a shadow of understanding whispered on his withered face.
‘A quick death is all I can give you. I wish I could do more.’
Deep and enduring forgiveness emanated from Danel’s gaze. Nate took a step back, he considered ways to show mercy but knew in his heart if he didn’t kill him Bishnor would break Danel apart.
‘Wait for him, his voice is like thunder,’ the old man called out to those remaining inside the building.
Danel had answers, answers to questions Nate had been searching for but time had stretched as far as he could allow without raising suspicion. The man closed his eyes in silent affirmation.
‘For the death of Zamani,’ Nate shouted, ‘and as a testimony to Shemyaza’s power.’ Nate swirled around and caught Zamani’s eye before turning back to the old man.
He swung his blade, sliding it through the old man’s neck with a clean break. Before his severed head hit the ground Nate turned to leave the city. He had to get away, not only because he hoped survivors hid beneath his feet but because with each moment he stayed, guilt and shame rose up to ensnare him.
‘What about those left inside? Do you want me to burn them?’ Esha asked.
Nate held in a breath. ‘No. Shemyaza said to leave a remnant alive.
❊ 15 ❊
‘Today we’re going to try something different,’ Galia said. ‘To do so, we need to travel a greater distance, far from prying eyes.’
Her usual neutral grey eyes held a hint of excitement which reminded Mirah of a child about to receive a grand prize. It was early morning, and near to the lapis lazuli archway labourers had cleared the foundations of a derelict temple.
‘What god lived there?’ Mirah asked, passing sweat covered labourers wearing dusty leather skirts.
‘Don’t remember,’ Galia answered.
‘You approve of the temple’s destruction?’
‘They never served me well.’
Mirah thought she sensed subdued pain in Galia’s confession. She waited for her to continue.
‘They are building a new baking house. I think that will serve me better.’
They crossed through the city heading towards the river. Galia set a quick pace and Mirah rushed to keep up. Down by the river a reed boat big enough for two rested on the sand.
Galia pushed it into the water. ‘Get in. The quicker we arrive the more time we’ll have to practice.’
The boat sped through the water as Galia wielded a wave behind them.
They travelled until they were far from the city. Swaying fields of wheat shimmered golden in the distance. Galia wielded the reed boat to the river edge and then they dragged it up the bank. The wheat fields were as high as Mirah’s shoulders.
‘You’ll need to duck so your head doesn’t bob over the fields but this is the best camouflage I could muster,’ Galia said, sitting down. She rummaged in her bag and pulled out an apple.
‘What are you expecting me to do?’
‘Wield air, move yourself through the wheat field.’
‘How?’
‘How do you expect me to know, I wield water.’
Mirah stood at the threshold of the wheat field. For ages she watched the wheat leaning over against the breeze.
‘What are you waiting for?’ Galia asked, lying down. ‘The sooner you grasp this the sooner we can find some entertainment.’
Mirah paced along the edge of the field, stepped inside the wheat and then back out. She wielded small stones into the air, brushed the breeze against Galia’s hair but for all she tried she couldn’t wield herself.
‘Come on. This is disappointing and rather boring. I was hoping you would have learned this before Nate’s return. I’d love for you to air wield him to the ground.’
‘Really?’
‘Of course, someone needs to knock his self assured ass down.’
Mirah smiled to herself, facing away from Galia. She would love to see his face if she did and it would serve as justice for his absence.
‘Are you sure you don’t know how this works?’
‘No clue. Just imagine he’s standing on the other side of the wheat calling you?’
‘Why would that bother me?’
Galia laughed from behind her. ‘Well, if it didn’t, you’d be the first pretty girl who didn’t wonder what it would be like to be in his arms.’
‘Have you?’
She nibbled the last of the apple core’s flesh and discarded it over her shoulder. ‘Never and before you ask I have my reasons.’
‘Do you prefer women?’
‘No. Come on, it can’t be that difficult. Close your eyes, imagine. He’s waiting on the other side of the wheat. His onyx hair tussled in the breeze, his gorgeous blue eyes searching, it’s so hot he takes off his shirt. Think of his splendid physique ready to embrace you. If you reach him, he’ll lower you to the floor, his body on you, moving. You’re all he’s ever wanted. He whispers your name as he caresses you and you want him to make you…’
Mirah shot through the air into the wheat field.
‘Close your mouth. Keep your head down,’ Galia called after her.
At first the wheat whipped her face but after a while, she managed to part it just ahead of her. How could Galia know what she’d been thinking? Around and around she sped in exhilaration. She was free in those moments, outracing all that wished to apprehend her. Shouts of abandonment carried on the wind and she realised it was her. She wanted to go further, faster, but the wheat hedged her in.
‘There will be no wheat standing if you continue,’ Galia’s voice echoed on the breeze.
Mirah circled the wheat field once more and returned. ‘That’s the most thrilling experience I’ve ever had,’ she said, taking a breath.
‘You have obviously never been intimate.’
Mirah blushed. ‘What you said before and me taking off so fast, it had nothing to do with Nate.’
Galia chuckled. ‘Of course not. Had to say something to get you moving. I figured embarrassment wo
uld do the trick. Even so, I still want you to put him on his butt. He should be back in a couple weeks which gives you plenty of time to practice and gain control so he isn’t aware. Come on, I’m hungry. I know this nice little place to eat.’
On reaching the boat, Galia said, ‘You can wield us back. Balance the water and the air together. I doubt anyone will notice if you take it slow.’
The reed boat cut through the swell at an even pace. Steering took practice but by the time they reached the city, Mirah had almost stopped it zigzagging.
Galia led her to a large tower building with a seated courtyard.
‘The food here is excellent. I recommend the pigeon.’
The pigeon was delicious and Galia insisted they stuck around to listen to the musicians. She bought them beer and settled back to listen. Two men, one with a lyre and another with reed pipes began their ballad. The music was a rhythm of plucking notes and a haunting pipe melody. The lyre player began his song. His deep voice sounded flat compared to the Fallen Star, and he sang in a language unknown.
Mirah drifted into the rapture she’d experienced whilst flying through the wheat. She came out of her daydream and found people in the courtyard had moved closer to the entertainers, and the crowd swayed with the music’s rhythm.
‘What’s it like?’
Galia sipped her beer. ‘What is what like?’
‘Being with a man?’ She shrugged. There was no one else to ask. Neviah didn’t know and something Galia had said earlier had her interest peaked.
‘My first was a disaster. A selfish lover. He was only concerned with his own needs. But then I was fortunate to learn that a true lover offers more than his flesh. A true lover is unafraid to give you all of himself, every essence of his being. There is nothing purer than that kind of joining. It is hot, ecstatic, intoxicating and you lose yourself in it, in each other. It’s a moment you never wish to end and a moment you hold on to all your life.’
‘How do you tell the difference before you… well you know?’
‘The one who ceases the arguments between your head and your heart. If you find that one, then you’ll know.’
‘That’s so sweet,’ Shayla sniggered. ‘Missing your Captain are you Mirah?’
‘Push off Princess,’ Galia snapped raising her arm to reveal her amethyst amulet.
‘Better set your sights lower,’ Shayla said, before rolling her hips out of the courtyard.
‘How did you know she was a Princess?’
‘I didn’t, I’ve never seen her before and don’t you listen to her. The one who gives his heart to you would never look twice at her. You will become his anchor and he will become yours.’
❊
After many weeks of training with Eliah, a network of bruises, ranging from deep shaded purples, musty greys and fading yellows covered Mirah’s flesh. Not once did Eliah draw in close enough to touch her. He circled around swiping her with his staff whenever she dropped her guard.
Since attending the Diatheatre each morning to listen to the healing balm of Fallen Star, Neviah’s spirits were lighter. Zeev jibed at her saying she was going soft. Mirah watched as Neviah feigned to the left before hitting him across the nose with her elbow, just to remind him how soft she really was. Zeev responded with a chuckle and gazed at her in admiration before lunging into another manoeuvre.
She left them to spend the day in the wheat fields and returned at dusk and in need of her soothing pool.
It was late when a small ball of ice materialised above her head.
From behind her chamber door, Galia suppressed a laugh. ‘If you don’t let me in, I’ll melt it and drop it on your head.’
Mirah giggled as Galia entered her room smiling.
‘I hoped to catch you awake. I couldn’t wait to tell you there’s going to be a celebration tomorrow evening. I wondered if you’d like to buy a new dress?’
‘I’ve never purchased…. What I mean is, all I have ever owned is what myself and the others from my clan made.’ She picked up her comb and brushed it through her hair. ‘I don’t have any silver.’
‘Of course you do. Hasn’t anyone explained that you get paid for your service to Shemyaza?’
She paused, the comb midway through her hair. ‘You’re teasing?’
Galia’s smile turned into the widest grin. ‘I know this wonderful place.’
Placing the comb onto her table, she asked. ‘What are we celebrating?’
‘Oh, you haven’t heard? Nate and the others will return tomorrow. It seems their mission was a success.’
‘How do you know? Is he all right?’
‘He’s fine. My sister became impatient. I bet she nagged him for days on the way back until he agreed to let her go on ahead.’
After Galia left, Mirah slipped into bed and knew sleep would not claim her.
❊ 16 ❊
‘I can’t wear this,’ Mirah cried. ‘What was I thinking.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ Sumer said. ‘You are beautiful.’
‘But it’s too revealing. I should never have listened to Galia.’
The dress was made of a palest green flowing silk, with a diaphanous tulle overlay embellished with silver and gold stars. The sleeves were cut longer than she’d seen other women of Hermonial wear but the translucent green sheer and its gold and silver embroidery worked well to hide most of her bruises. Except for the back where from the neckline to the waist the fabric was non-existent.
Galia had convinced her not to worry, ensuring her showing flesh was not an issue here but now stood in the dress, she couldn’t help feeling self-conscious. From a band of gold cut high around her neckline, a train trimmed in gold sent a shimmering galaxy of stars flowing down over her bare skin and trailed behind her.
‘Stop worrying,’ Sumer replied, whilst sorting through an assortment of jewels in a grainy, dark wooden box. ‘Besides, everyone will dress in their finery tonight.’ Sumer held up a silver comb with five little stars sprinkled with diamonds. ‘This one will compliment your dress.’
She braided one side of Mirah’s hair, shaping it around to the nape of her neck. Leaving the other side free, her curls and waves spread over her shoulder and down her back. Sumer slid in the comb and withdrew. ‘Spectacular.’
‘Can you help me with this?’ Mirah asked, handing Sumer her star necklace.
They met the tithes in a waiting chamber. The circumference of the chamber had a ledge carved into the rock which provided seating with sunflower yellow cushions arranged upon it. She spied Abela and Ayla sat with Neviah and rushed over to them.
‘It’s so good to see you,’ she said.
Sumer stated someone would announce them in turn and to make their way to the front and present themselves to Shemyaza.
‘Great,’ Neviah grumbled.
‘It wasn’t too horrific last time,’ Mirah offered.
As she caught up with Abela and Ayla, the chamber emptied until she was alone. She didn’t know what felt worse, presenting herself before Shemyaza or the waiting to see Nate. She was so lost in her thoughts and she didn’t hear the announcer. Sumer rushed in and ushered her out.
‘Keep your head high and don’t forget to bow.’
Mirah held on to her star pendant, exited the waiting chamber and gasped.
Hovering overhead, rotating gilded orbs adorned the spacious cavern. Sunrays emanating from the spheres, spread streams of light swirling down the golden steps and across the room. It was spectacular. She stood stunned out of motion. One orb paused and held her in its spotlight and her dress sparkled to life.
Stillness settled over the guests as she descended the steps and walked through the cavern towards Shemyaza seated on the dais.
To his left, Bishnor’s fire opal eyes prowled over her and when she came closer, he let out a low deep-throated purr.
To Shemyaza’s right sat a beautiful woman, an alluring glossy, green pendant hung low, tantalising the plunging neckline of her gown. They were a trio of refinement a
dorned in a raiment of golden hues. Where was Nate, Mirah thought as she bowed.
Sheltered under the curls of her hair she was aware of Shemyaza shifting his superior posture.
‘You are from Barakel? Is that correct?’
‘Yes,’ she answered, raising her head but not meeting his gaze.
He snapped his fingers. ‘I expect you to look at me when I’m talking.’
He regarded her with a gleam of entitlement and a confident smile. ‘I can see life in Hermonial is suiting you well.’
She didn’t dare look away and tried to focus on the centre of his wide forehead and square plucked eyebrows. ‘It is not what I expected.’
‘Yes well, expectations can be rather disappointing but the unexpected is often the most thrilling, don’t you agree?’ He didn’t wait for her to reply. ‘Due to my sovereignty and generosity, you’ll find a lot of what you didn’t expect here.’
His voice sounded cool and alluring.
She tried to resist the sense of him gliding over her, permeating her essence, searching for weakness, like a pebble she was submerged in his slippery stream.
‘Barakel? Isn’t that where the girl with the gift of Chashmal came from?’ Shemyaza asked, whilst rubbing his thumb and index finger along the sides of his chin.
‘Dara, her name is Dara.’
The woman beside Shemyaza uncrossed her legs and said, ‘If she is anywhere near as beautiful and as gifted as you, I’m sure she could one day be my replacement.’
Sadness filled the woman’s dark eyes and Mirah wondered if the idea of Dara as a replacement encouraged her.
At the woman’s interruption, Shemyaza pursed his lips, and he tapped his fingers on his throne.
‘Dumah is my first wife.’ Shemyaza explained. ‘She is mourning the loss of our firstborn son Zamani but she has come here today to celebrate my victory and revenge.’
Watching his impatience, Mirah quickly said to Dumah, ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’
Dumah blinked but said nothing more.
