A Voice That Thunders (Voice that Thunders #1)

by Cully Mack

  ❊　22　❊

  Mirah moved and a sharp pang lanced through her head. She instinctively reached for her brow. Nate tensed but remained seated on the other side of her chamber. Distant. Why was he sat over there?

  She remembered the warmth, the closeness of his touch as he’d held her. The way her body melded into his, the safety and assurance exuding from him, washing over her in soothing waves.

  ‘You should eat,’ he said, indicating to a tray of delicious fruits on the table.

  His withdrawn tone unnerved her.

  ‘What’s going on?’ she asked sitting up.

  ‘It’s late. A little after midday.’

  ‘That’s not what I meant.’

  She tried to read him as he sat upright, rigid, his dark wavy hair uncombed, his shirt creased. She presumed he hadn’t left her chamber but something had changed. If he thought she was no longer worth his consideration, then why was he still here?

  His eyes flicked to the hole in the rock at the sound of a chimera snarling outside and then returned to hers. Whatever he saw made him grimace. Well, this wasn’t advancing as she expected. She’d dreamed of opening her eyes and him gently kissing her forehead.

  ‘You can leave if you want. You don’t have to stay.’

  He got up and wandered slowly to the door. Her heart felt like it would crack open.

  With his back towards her, he paused. ‘I can’t. I need to know.’

  ‘About Shemyaza, the wielding or us?’

  With his hand on the latch, he didn’t turn. ‘All of it.’

  Why wouldn’t he face her? Did his confession of love shame him? Was it a lie to keep her from folding? She knew deep inside a betrayal like that would break her. A nauseous awakening compelled her to make sense of her reasoning.

  ‘After you left, they questioned where I came from. They asked about my parents. I told them they were dead. They asked about siblings and I said, I’d had a brother but he’d gone too.’

  It wasn’t a total lie, and she’d been glad they hadn’t pressed her further.

  To her relief, they didn’t ask about Eran and she’d assumed they thought she’d killed the rebel as requested.

  ‘Shemyaza asked if I knew someone called Meciel. I’d never heard of him and told him so.

  Shargaz demanded another wielding demonstration.

  Buzur pressed to know what other elements I could wield.

  I didn’t see the point in hiding it. I suspected they wouldn’t let me go until they knew. I informed them I wielded water, earth and air.

  Ditallu enquired about my wielding amulet. I told her, I’d picked the ring because it was the simplest of them all.

  They discussed between them my potential for wielding fire and I explained that was something I couldn’t do. They pushed and tested my abilities until I collapsed in complete exhaustion.’

  Nate still hadn’t turned. She yearned to see his face, to gauge his reactions, to find out why he wouldn’t look at her.

  ‘When I could no longer stand, they made me sit on the floor. I tried to understand what they were saying, but they spoke in a foreign tongue. They appeared to be debating and arguing.

  Then Shemyaza opened the Isten Baba, and the gods left us alone. After he closed the portal, Shemyaza allowed me to sit on an empty throne beside him. He said it was time for my choosing. He explained that if I willed it, I didn’t have to choose at all.’

  She paused, hoping Nate would turn. He didn’t move. ‘I told him that, I choose you.’

  Nate let go of the latch, his hand poised ready to snatch it again at any moment.

  ‘Was I mistaken?’ Mirah asked.

  ‘Do you think I’m just the safer option?’

  ‘What? Of course not.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘How could you think such a thing?’ she asked, her voice rising higher.

  He turned, and the sunlight caught the relief washing over his face.

  ‘Mirah,’ he said.

  He almost crashed into her pushing her back on the bed. His body settling on hers, shielding, protecting and claiming.

  When his lips met hers, she desired to let her body meld into him. His kiss was passionate, gaining in sincerity, awaking in her sensations she never realised existed. Her body responded, aching, betraying her for the pleasure it sought. If he didn’t stop kissing her soon, she knew she’d yield into its craving.

  As if sensing they were about to cross over a threshold, he rolled onto his back. For a long while, they stayed silent except for their small panting breaths.

  ‘I’d thought I’d lost you,’ he breathed.

  She cuddled into him, watching the rise and fall of his chest.

  ‘I thought maybe you’d consider joining with the stepson of your enemy a step too far. Or that Shemyaza would manipulate you into accepting Bishnor or take you for his own. I don’t think I could have survived if you’d chosen one of them.’

  She took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘What happens now?’

  He gave her a sinful grin. ‘I guess we plan for a wedding before Shemyaza changes his mind.’

  Part 2

  ❊　23　❊

  As Mirah waited, she sensed the surrounding air, thick and muggy. She peered at the stars most of them blotted away by the dense cloud.

  ‘Do you ever have storms here?’

  ‘Not this time of year,’ Nate answered.

  ‘I sense one coming.’

  She hated being summoned to the plateau but Shemyaza now insisted on observing her progress. She glanced again to the Isten Baba, its clover blue shimmer still separating them from the realm beyond.

  Weeks had turned into months. Ditallu was arranging her wedding dress. A gift she insisted on providing and after months of hearing hints about its design, she still hadn’t seen it.

  ‘How long will he make us wait this time?’ Neviah asked.

  Nate shrugged.

  Whatever Neviah thought of their wedding, she kept to herself though she had plenty to say about being ordered to the plateau.

  ‘I’m sure he makes us come here to watch us suffer. Why should I be indebted to Shayla? She took the blonde rebels life for her own glory it had nothing to do with me. And now she wants me to thank her for saving my life! I won’t do it.’

  Ropes pulling taut announced the platforms ascension. Mirah’s stomach folded over. Shemyaza wasn’t the only one interested in her wielding. Bishnor exited the shaft and strode onto the plateau, his new sword swinging on his hip. He rolled his tongue over his top lip and his coveting gaze roamed over her body.

  ‘Has he danced with you yet?’ His fire opal eyes flashed with desire and he stroked his brutish hand down the length of his sword. With a satisfied smile he lumbered across the plateau and sat on Shemyaza’s throne. ‘Thought not.’

  Nate ignored him, refusing to succumb to his goading. She was amazed at his patience.

  ‘I hope Abela and Ayla return in time for the wedding,’ Mirah said.

  Nate smiled, he knew any mention of their wedding infuriated Bishnor. ‘The village is not far. If the fever continues, I’ll send my own men to escort them. Don’t worry they’ll be here in time.’

  Mirah hadn’t yet found the courage to ask Shemyaza about inviting Dara. She didn’t even know if the Chashmalim would allow her to leave her training in the desert fortress.

  ‘Have you decided on the flowers?’ he asked knowing full well she had.

  She almost laughed.

  Sumer had stepped up her maternal fussing and taken it upon herself to organise most of the wedding. Mirah didn’t mind. She took joy in seeing her come alive when she showed her an array of flowers, advising her on which ones were the best.

  Bishnor rose from the throne and went to the portal. It shimmered and evaporated.

  There were no Kudu horns announcing his arrival. Shemyaza exited the portal and its clover blue membrane shivered back into place.

  Bishnor and Shemyaza’s unspoken co
mmunication reeked of secrets they’d never reveal. Shemyaza assessed Nate and dipped his head in approval. He stretched his extraordinary golden wings high and then folded them.

  When he focused on her, Mirah wanted to wield herself over the mountain and would have considered it, if not for Neviah and Nate standing beside her.

  ‘Mirah you look as beautiful as ever. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting though I’m sure you don’t mind. If you excel today, I have a small gift for you.’

  She didn’t give a damn about the gift, his displeasure concerned her more.

  Each time he’d ordered her to wield for him, she’d hidden her developing skills as much she dared without raising suspicion. It wasn’t the only thing she held back. When she’d wielded Eran over the mountain, she’d been sure she’d heard a distant echo laughing.

  Shemyaza came and stroked her hand and ice covered her skin. His immortal eyes glowered and she wondered if he realised how every part of her recoiled at his touch.

  ‘After I delivered you from Barakel and realised your uniqueness, I chose to give you a gift beyond measure. Now you must honour me and fulfill your pledge. Let’s begin.’

  He took his place on the central throne and waved his hand.

  She swallowed. God or not, he was insane if he believed he’d delivered her from Barakel. She’d not asked for a gift, never pledged anything and he acted like she should be grateful.

  Neviah gave it her all and Mirah responded with just enough. Not once did she penetrate the rock with an ice spear blaming that first time in the Taphas chamber on some kind of fluke shot.

  Midway through forming an ice dagger, Shemyaza commanded them to stop and rose from his throne.

  ‘I know you can do better. We’ll commence in a few days which will give me time to consider developing your motivation.’

  ❊

  The following morning, she rushed to wash in her bathing pool before dressing in her Taphas wear. She’d dreamt of a thousand terrible ways Shemyaza contemplated her motivation, beginning with dreaded beasts like the Dagani or Zamani and ending with Bishnor.

  As they walked to the shaft, Neviah pulled on her braid.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Mirah asked.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she bit back. ‘I just don’t see why Nate insists on us rising an hour earlier than before.’

  ‘He’s worried.’

  They paused by the shaft. Mirah peered into the dark void, waiting for the platform to appear.

  ‘Why should he worry?’ Neviah continued. ‘If we had it in mind to, we could annihilate him.’

  Mirah whipped her head up as she swung around. ‘You don’t mean that?’

  Neviah shifted on her hips. ‘I’m not saying I would but if we chose to we could.’

  When the darkness in the shaft absorbed them Mirah broke the silence. ‘I think after what happened on the plateau, Nate understands we won’t kill anyone. It terrifies him.’

  ‘Well, he’s wrong.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because those rebels weren’t my enemies.’

  Mirah wished she could see Neviah’s face. She was always so readable but in the darkness, she couldn’t gauge her responses. Whatever impact the Fallen Star previously had on her, the incident on the plateau had undone. Neviah still refused Mirah’s invitations to hear him sing.

  ‘I still see them,’ Neviah said, her voice softening.

  Mirah knew who she meant. Every time she closed her eyes the rebels, wide-eyed and burning seared into her memory and clashed with returning images of Barakel.

  She hadn’t known Bishnor’s name then, but it was him who’d led the giants into their shelter. The bloodlust in his eyes showed her his intention. She’d seen the bodies being dragged across the ground and stacked ready for igniting before Nate and his men ushered them towards his ship.

  Eran, it seemed had a talent for escaping. Nate didn’t believe he was still in Hermonial. When he’d asked, she told him Eran was a friend from Barakel. She wished she’d had time to find out how he’d survived and why he’d been with rebels at the Buzur’s mines. All he’d managed to tell her was a rumour that Gabe boarded a ship at Lithinos. How he’d got there or where he planned to go, Eran didn’t know.

  ‘I see them too,’ Mirah yielded.

  She didn’t tell her Nate came to her room each night and comforted her until she fell asleep or how much he’d become her shelter and sanctuary, her antidote. It didn’t seem fair.

  When they reached the courtyard, Zeev was grinning and ready to spar. Mirah narrowed her eyes and his face dropped.

  Neviah paused. ‘I know I’ve said it before but thank you again for saving Eran. I know you took a risk.’ She grabbed hold of her braid, tightening it at the end, and said, ‘Let’s do this.’

  Mirah followed her, feeling a little whiplashed.

  Neviah strode over to Zeev. ‘Can you show me how to shunt a dagger in between the ribs?’

  ‘Really?’ he asked, his deep brown eyes weighing up her agenda.

  ‘Yes, so I know how to do it if you ever gawk at me with that ridiculous expression again.’

  ‘If you don’t like getting out of bed so early, I could always join you?’

  ‘If you feel like being burned alive, try it.’

  He gave her a sword. ‘Maybe one day I will,’ he pledged, bringing his sword down against hers.

  Nate rolled his eyes. He held out Mirah’s staff, and she took it readying herself for his attack. He feigned to the right, slid under her staff, grabbed her hold and winked. ‘I thought we’d try a new tactic. One where you defend against physical ambush.’

  ‘You just want to embrace me.’

  ‘Can you blame me?’

  ‘No wielding?’

  He’d made her agree beforehand after reminding her he’d seen Wielders power fail.

  ‘No wielding,’ he confirmed.

  His movements were fast and raw. Each time she tried to block his approach he manoeuvred around her staff coming up inside it, holding her for longer than needed. Teasing aside, Mirah could see her own failing. She needed to work out how to keep him at bay.

  ‘Watch his feet,’ Zeev shouted over.

  ‘Thanks,’ Nate shouted back, dryly.

  She studied his footsteps until she saw a pattern in his movements.

  ‘Trust Zeev to open his generous mouth. I was enjoying that,’ Nate mumbled as he failed to catch her once again.

  ‘You’re supposed to be training me,’ she accused.

  ‘I would have told you in the end,’ he said, coming up and wrapping his arm around her waist. ‘I just couldn’t resist it.’

  She went to push him off.

  ‘You’re too captivating. I can’t let you go.’

  ❊

  Galia dawdled around vendor after vendor holding up pastel fabrics with intricate gold and silver embroidered designs. ‘What about this one?’

  ‘It’s as beautiful as the last one,’ Mirah replied.

  Galia strolled off insisting they might have something better elsewhere.

  After so much walking in the midday heat, Mirah’s feet were swelling.in her boots. ‘If you don’t choose something soon, I’ll pick for you,’ she pressed.

  ‘I like the first one best,’ Galia said, lowering the lush green silk. ‘The cream one with the woven, silver birds on the seam. It will go well with my hair.’

  After returning and purchasing the fabric, she left Mirah with a slight bounce in her steps to meet a dressmaker on the other side of the city.

  With Nate busy completing drills and inspecting his men, she found herself wandering. She walked to the river and paddled in the water.

  Some labourers nearby chanted to a rhythm whilst rubbing a beeswax coating onto oars. Her feet soothed, she weaved through the city until she stood outside the doors of the Azu. She was deliberating knocking when an Azu with a burgundy chord entwined in her braided hair came out.

  On seeing Mirah asked, ‘Can I help you?’

 
Although she’d seen them a few times, she still found it difficult not to stare at her cone-shaped head.

  ‘I was wondering when Abela and Ayla will return?’

  ‘They returned this morning but they’re not here. I believe they’re assisting a woman suffering from toothworm.’

  Whatever toothworm was it didn’t sound pleasant.

  ‘Do you know where they are?’

  The Azu pointed behind her. ‘If you follow the canal past Mammetum’s temple ruins, you’ll come to the cities old quarter. They should be somewhere down there.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Mirah said, thinking the Azu had been most accommodating compared to the few she’d met before. Maybe things would be different since Shemyaza had announced Nate’s official proposal.

  She wandered around narrow dusty tracks hoping to see Abela or Ayla. The old quarter housed a series of smaller dwellings, most of them squarish, compared to the circular towers nearer the mountain. There were no courtyards, upper levels or ornamental glass decorating their walls.

  She reached several children wearing brown weaved tunics playing with wooden beads on the path. A girl with an oval face and a wide smile set over a prominent chin ambled towards her. Her dark, bouncing, curls settled on her shoulders as she stopped.

  ‘Are you a Wielder?’

  ‘I am,’ Mirah smiled.

  Her large brown, almond-shaped eyes gleamed. ‘How does it work?’

  Instead of explaining what she didn’t understand, she decided to try and show her. She’d never wielded water from a distance but thought to try guiding a small bubble of water from the canal near Mammentum’s temple. When it came into view, she relaxed. Later she’d ask Galia about the distance Water Wielders could wield from.

  More children with expectant faces gathered as she manipulated the bubble of water into the shape of a small frog.

  The children gasped as the frog hopped around in the air. They chased it, leaping and laughing, with their little arms raising to catch it.

  ‘Thank you,’ the girl said, watching the others play.

  She was older, on the cusp of adolescence and Mirah presumed some of the younger children were her siblings.