The Fires of Vengeance
Page 46
Thinking quickly, Tsiora pulled the pieces together. “We have a common enemy, that’s what you’re saying? Then, we can help each other. Make Kana leave our land and we can discuss working with the Xiddeen.”
“No, no, no,” the shaman said, shaking their head as if she’d misunderstood a simple problem. “Kana no stop.” They pointed at her this time. “You must kill Kana. He stop then, yes?”
“Whose side are you on?” Tau asked.
Not a bad question, thought Tsiora.
The shaman waved their hands and came at the discussion another way. “Kana has feud and will not stop, but Kana will always love Xiddeen, yes. He let me come on ship because if Kana kill you, he help Xiddeen with his fighters. If I come to you and you kill Kana, maybe you help Xiddeen. Both ways, Xiddeen get help, yes?”
“Help you do what, exactly?” asked Tsiora.
The shaman’s face grew serious, and the change chilled Tsiora.
“Strangers come to Xidda. More strangers with big ships and many people, yes,” the shaman said. “They fight us with warriors like him, yes.” The shaman was pointing at Tau.
“Like him?” Tsiora said, her voice faint.
“Yes,” the shaman said. “They come to Xidda, the ones with the silver skin and the ones who fight like him. They come to Xidda, not for Xiddeen, but when they see Xiddeen have Omehi magic, they start to kill everyone.”
“Silver skin …,” said Tsiora. Her fingers were trembling. She hated when they did that. It was such a show of weakness.
“You know them, yes.” The shaman was not asking a question.
Tau turned to her then, but for the moment, she couldn’t bear to face him. She lifted her face until it was full in the hot sun overhead, and she closed her eyes.
“Tsiora?” her champion said.
“We may not be strong enough …,” she whispered. “We may not have our tomorrow.”
“Tsiora, what is it?”
She opened her eyes and looked at Tau, wishing that they’d had just a little more time together. “It’s the Cull,” she said. “They’ve found us.”
Glossary
Ananthi, the Goddess—The one true deity, the creator of Uhmlaba, Isihogo, women, men, and all that exists. She is the source of all gifts, and the Omehi are Her chosen people.
Aqondise—A leading warrior’s most trusted companion; a second-in-command.
Cek—Soulless.
Citadel City—The first true Omehian city on Xidda, Citadel City sits at the westward base of the Fist and is home to the Indlovu, Gifted, Sah, and Guardian Citadels. It is the primary training grounds for the Noble warriors, the Gifted, the priesthood, and it is the traditional base of power for the Royals who sit on the Guardian Council and lead the military effort.
Claw (military unit)—Three scales operating together under a single command.
The Crags—A large plateau in the Fist mountain range that has been divided into several fighting areas that are used to train the Gifted, Indlovu, and Ihashe. The Crags are the location of the Queen’s Melee.
The Curse—The massive and unexplored desert territory beyond the front lines of the war. The Xiddeen live out in the Curse, though how they can survive in the poisonous wasteland is a mystery.
Cycle—One rotation through all four seasons (Seed, Grow, Harvest, and Hoard).
Demon-haunted—A woman or man whose mind has been broken by time spent in Isihogo.
Dragon (military unit)—A dragon is three wings operating together under a single command.
Dragon’s Span—A hand symbol meant to ward away evil thoughts, demons, and faithlessness.
Drudge—A Lesser made casteless for failing to serve the Omehi in combat.
Edifier—A Gifted capable of moving quickly through Isihogo to pass messages to other Edifiers in distant locations.
Enervator—A Gifted capable of temporarily incapacitating others by forcing their souls into Isihogo.
Enrager—A Gifted capable of pulling power from Isihogo and moving it through the blood of a Greater Noble or Royal Noble, making the target bigger, stronger, faster, and more resilient.
Entreater—A Gifted capable of binding her will to the will of another.
The Fist—The smallest mountain range on the Omehi Peninsula, it starts at the ocean and runs a short way down the center of the peninsula. Citadel City sits at its westward base. The Fist holds the Crags training grounds.
Gambeson—A padded defensive jacket.
Gaum—A potent intoxicant made from the poison in a scorpion’s sting.
The Goddess’s Curse—For fighting against Her chosen people, the Goddess afflicted the Xiddeen with a curse that corrupts their skin and bodies, giving them weeping sores and seeming to rot them from the inside out.
Guardian—The Omehi name for a dragon.
Hedeni—Women and men who have no faith in the Goddess and live outside of Her grace.
Hex—A group of six Entreaters who work together.
Ihagu—The Omehi militia that makes up the front lines in the endless war against the Xiddeen. These men are not granted military status.
Ihashe—The elite fighters and soldiers of the Lesser castes. They are granted military status after graduating from the one-cycle training provided at either the Southern or Northern Ihashe Isikolo. They must serve six active cycles to complete their service.
Indlovu—The elite warriors of the Noble castes. They are granted military status after graduating from the three-cycle training provided at the Indlovu Citadel in Citadel City. They must serve six active cycles to complete their service.
Ingonyama—The Chosen’s deadliest fighters, selected from the very best of the graduating military initiates. If the Ingonyama is a Greater Noble or Royal Noble they are teamed with an Enrager, who will use her gifts to empower the Ingonyama in combat.
Inkokeli—Leader of an Indlovu unit or Ihashe scale.
Inkumbe—A small grass-eating and four-legged creature from Osonte with small horns and cloven feet.
Intulo—A salamander/lizard. Also a description of a slippery person who won’t stay still in an argument—their thoughts are loose, fluid, not substantial.
Inyoka—A poisonous serpent.
Isihogo—The demon world—a colorless, mist-filled prison, where time flows differently and Ananthi’s powers are found.
Isikolo—A school or academy.
Jirza—The capital city of the northern province.
KaEid—The leader of the Gifted. Typically of Royal Noble blood.
Kigambe—The capital city of the southern province.
Kora—A stringed musical instrument.
Kudliwe—A small scurrying and flying insect that burrows into bags of grain and is difficult to kill.
Masmas—A frothy intoxicant made from fermented cactus juice.
Mka—The particular pungent and unpleasant smell of winds produced after having eaten bean- or onion-heavy meals.
Nceku—Soulless one.
Neh—An Omehi interjection commonly used to indicate a statement of opinion or fact, a command, an exclamation, or a question, or to indicate that something went unheard.
Nkosi—An honorific used when addressing Nobles.
Olu—A pricey intoxicant made from crushed and fermented fruits.
The Omehi/The Chosen—The people, Nobles and Lessers, chosen by the Goddess to lead all the races of men.
Osonte—The original homeland of the Omehi.
Palm City—The capital city of the Omehi peninsula and the central province, and the seat of the queen and her royal family.
Preceptor—The one who instructs Gifted initiates in their training.
Proven—A warrior who has proven their mettle and worth in combat by sacrificing enough of their body to no longer be combat-ready. Proven maintain their military status and are required to serve out all time remaining in their six cycles of military service. Most Proven sign up for additional service.
Rabba—A fruity, bright, and floral ar
oma’ed stimulant drink made from wet-processed beans grown in the highlands of the Southern and Northern Mountain ranges.
Rage (military unit)—Three dragons (military unit) operating together under a single command.
The Roar—The unsettled ocean.
Sah Priesthood—The women and men who preach the word of the Goddess, maintain the Omehi’s religious traditions, and help guide the Chosen ever closer to the Goddess’s grace.
Scale (military unit)—The Omehi’s most common and basic fighting unit, made up of fifty-four men.
Seasons—The Omehi make note of four seasons: Seed, Grow, Harvest, and Hoard. Each season lasts approximately three moon cycles.
Shul—The Xiddeen word for “great chief”—a leader whose powers transcend tribe.
Uhmlaba—The world of the races of men.
Ukufa, the Insatiate—Ukufa the thief, liar, corrupter, divider, enslaver. Ukufa the creator of death, suffering, war, and hate broke the world with his hunger for more than the world could give. He is held in Isihogo by the body and spirit of the Goddess.
Umbusi—A fief’s governor.
Umqondisi—A teacher, trainer, master, leader.
Wing (military unit)—Three claws operating together under a single command.
Xidda—The land the Omehi discovered after fleeing Osonte.
Xiddeen—The name the aboriginals of Xidda use for themselves.
GRATITUDE
To Lurlene Winter, my mother, you named me after a writer, showed me how joyful a life lived in love with books could be, and raised me to be unafraid of walking the unbeaten path. Everything I do and everything I am springs from you.
To Diala Winter, my wife, who shares the days when the greatest joys come into my life and who has stood with me when the losses felt too big to bear—there’s not much I’m afraid to face with you by my side, and there’s little that would be as good, exciting, or memorable if I didn’t get to do it with you.
To Koa Winter, my son, you’re eight and in school as I write this, and already I know that you’re a gift not just to me and my life, but to the whole world. I’m lucky to be your father, I’m so incredibly proud of you, and the universe will have heard me if only you have health and happiness in this life. Please believe in yourself, because you will always be more than enough. Please try to leave people better than you find them, because the world can be hard, and we’re all in this together. Koa, I love you with all my heart and I always will.
To Anthony, who incessantly demanded that the story’s stakes always be clear, being held accountable for doing one’s best work by a friend and reader like you is a blessing that every creative person should beg to be cursed with.
To Joey, my high school friend who is all grown up now and spends his days negotiating, closing, and managing multibillion-dollar deals, but still makes time to give me story notes at night.
To Malik, whose advice, encouragement, and insight are priceless—there are so many levels to … to everything, and bearing witness as you see and operate on damn near all of them lifts me up and makes me want to do and be better.
To Aunt Pansy, Uncle Carl, Uncle Steve, Uncle Melville, Aunt Cheryl, Uncle Bertie, Michelle, Anika, Sheyamba, Tshaka, Richard, Susie, Kyle, Lily, and Gisela, though we may not always be together, every time we meet it’s like we’ve never been apart, and having you and yours as family is a blessing.
To Khaled, Fadia, Dia, Ange, Mia, Dominic, and Alexia, who turn every day brighter and can somehow, inexplicably, always make leaving the house to spend time together seem like a far better idea than staying in it, you have completed my family.
To all of you, thank you from the bottom of my heart!
THE SCALE
If this page exists, know that it and all the others in this book do so only because the following people helped bring them to the world …
To Brit Hvide (my editor), whose passion for stories, empathy for those who write them, and way with words inspire me—it’s rare to talk about just how large a role fortune plays in bringing a story successfully to its readers, but after watching my father buy lottery tickets every week for years, I think I know good fortune when I see it, and I’m so very lucky this story ended up in your talented and caring hands.
To Tim Holman (Orbit’s publisher), I’m in awe of the house you’ve built. It’s a place filled with people of principle and integrity who act on their ideals, taking action when, sometimes, even the awesome power of words is not enough. You built a home for good people doing their best to tell incredible stories, and as a guest in that home, I can’t imagine a better welcome or a more comfortable place to stay.
To Erin Malone (my literary agent), who helps guide this thing that I’m still hesitant to call a career, who offers comfort when the wild west that is this industry feels a little too out of control, and who has no idea how much joy I get from seeing all the pictures of little Charlie growing up.
To Eric Reid (my film/TV agent), what a magnificent world of contracts, financing, scripting, casting, crewing up, and distributing it is in which you move. Now, I don’t say this lightly, but your world may almost be as cool as I feel when I’m sitting at home in my pajamas with nothing else but a laptop and the voices in my head (maybe).
To Emily Byron and Jenni Hill (my UK editors), your support, kind words and warm emails were always enough to remind me that, even in the depths of The Fires of Vengeance’s first draft, I was never all alone.
To Nivia Evans (the editor backing up my editors while also handling a crew of unruly and unreasonably talented authors all on her own), I see you out there doing the work of three people at a level that would make five proud. I see you.
To Lauren Panepinto (creative director), you’ve given my stories a face with which to greet the world, and that can’t be overvalued because, in my humble opinion, books are judged by their covers. True, it’s only an initial judgment, but it can be a fatal one, and your work keeps this story from a lonely death on a dusty back shelf.
To Karla Ortiz (artist), your cover for The Rage of Dragons made me so proud, and unbelievably, you’ve outdone yourself with the cover for The Fires of Vengeance; it gave me shivers the first time I saw it. With your mind and skill, you capture the spirit of the story that’s being told, and I’ve been a reader for long enough to know just how rare and precious a thing that is.
To Anna Jackson (publisher Orbit UK), having your support for this story means it will be read by countless readers. It means that this book will be on the shelves and in the stores of the country of my birth, and I am very grateful for absolutely all of that.
To Alex Lencicki (associate publisher), looks like you’re now tasked with melding business and art, a bizarre and hazardous alchemy. Yet, with every new book Orbit releases, your alchemical binds seem to hold. So, next time we meet, we’re going to sit down, and I’m going to pry all your secrets from you.
To Laura Fitzgerald and Ellen Wright (marketing and publicity), at a time when hundreds if not thousands of new books are traditionally and independently published every single day, your jobs are both daunting and critical. Without the work that you do, readers have little chance of even knowing that a book exists. The saying used to be “If you build it, they will come,” but I prefer “If you build it and tell the right people, you might be able to get a decent-sized audience to pay a little attention.” Well, you brought more than a decent-sized audience to what we built, and that is a power as mysterious and as wonderful as anything the Gifted in this story wield.
To Nazia (senior press officer), your warmth, kindness, generosity, and passion for all things SFF are like a ray of multicolored light in the dark underworld that bookselling can often inhabit. You make every space just that much better.
To Megan Fitzpatrick, Nita Basu, and Prentice Onayemi (Hachette Audio and the audiobook’s narrator), every day, more and more people, who may not always find the chance to sit down with a book, are listening to books, and there is something so wonderfully
human about stories returning to their beginnings as a connection between the voice of the teller and the mind of the listener. I’m so happy that this story can be heard as well as read, and that’s because of you.
To Bryn A. McDonald and Eileen Chetti (managing editor and copy editor), your attention to detail and tireless eyes make my sentences flow, my fight scenes make sense, and my war wounds consistent. With gentle and nonjudgmental guidance, you’ve shown me that I have absolutely no idea how commas work (at all), and I’m glad that you did. But what I’m most grateful for is that you treat these words and worlds with as much consideration as you would your own, and it would be a difficult task indeed to find the right way to thank you properly for that!
WWW.EVANWINTER.COM
Dear Reader,
Life is the spans we’re given and the choices we make in how to spend them, and I cannot thank you enough for choosing to spend a few with me.
Wishing you and yours happiness, health, love,
Evan Winter
Visit www.evanwinter.com to be the first to learn more about Evan’s books—past, present, and future.
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By Evan Winter
THE BURNING
The Rage of Dragons
The Fires of Vengeance