Witch Flame Page 2

  “You will get your turn after I’m through,” her captor answered.

  “Akahi!” She screamed again, but the wind did not answer.

  Panic seized her chest at the sight of two more warriors exiting from her hut.

  “What have you done with her?!” She pounded her captor’s back even harder.

  Her captor answered with a deep, sinister chuckle. “Search the hut for more food and then burn it,” he said to the others. “I will bring her back when I’m finished.” Then he turned and walked back toward the forest with long, urgent strides.

  Tears were cascading freely down Feira’s face, and for a moment, she could not think beyond the numbing pain which seized her limbs. She closed her eyes and silently called out to her mother, but the air around her was stagnant, lifeless.

  Akahi was dead.

  The realization sunk low in Feira’s chest like a heavy stone. Then the stone began to smolder, burning brighter, until it was a scorching fire. She stopped pounding against the soldier as she extended her fingers over his metal-plated armor covering his back.

  And she released her flame.

  The armor melted in an instant, sending him to his knees as he cried out.

  Feira stumbled away from the man as he writhed in pain. Lifting her hands into the air, she arched her fingers until they resembled claws of fire. Flame shot from her hands and pierced the man’s body, burning him with such intensity, he was reduced to nothing more than a pile of ash and flecks of molten metal.

  Anger fueled her movements as she surged forward. Carried on a cloud of flame and smoke, she burned every last soldier who had dared hurt her mother.

  * * *

  Feira found Akahi lying inside the hut with a fatal stab wound to the chest. Feira worked quickly, placing healing herbs upon the wound, crying out to the Elements to send back the spirit of her mother before she passed over into the Veil of Light.

  Feira placed more healing herbs upon her mother’s wound. She closed her eyes, searching for her mother’s wind, sobbing as she cried out Akahi’s name. But she was met with no answer. “Oh, Heavenly Elements,” she cried, “why have you forsaken me?”

  The Elements answered with a flicker of light, and then something more, a teasing breeze upon the nape of her neck. Feira’s breath hitched, as she waited, hoping, praying, for her mother to return.

  “Feira,” her mother’s voice echoed upon the breeze. “I must go to the Elements.”

  “No!” Feira screamed through a sob.

  “Dear one, my time has long passed. You must flee, child, to the Shifting Sands where the goddess cannot find you. Go now,” her mother implored, “before it is too late.”

  And then the breeze had vanished and the light along with it, until there was nothing left but dead air and darkness.

  Feira opened her eyes and looked down at Akahi. She jumped with a start as the door to their hut blew open. A strong gust of wind whipped around her before encircling her mother. The cyclone spun so rapidly, Feira had no time to blink before Akahi’s body had vanished, carried away by the wind, leaving behind nothing but the old woman’s ring made from the bright red lava stone.

  Wear it in remembrance of her, the wind whispered.

  Chapter Five

  Go to her. She needs you.

  Tumì nearly fell out of the palma tree as the breeze whistled the urgent plea in his ear. Never before had he heard the voice of the wind. But he knew the Elements had been speaking to him. Feira had told him how she and her mother relayed messages through the wind before.

  He hastily climbed down the tree’s branches, ignoring the pain that seared through him as thorns cut open his bare feet. Once he hit the ground, he raced toward the direction of Feira’s hut. He only hoped he wasn’t too late.

  Tumì found Feira staggering down the small path that lead from her home to their village. His legs suddenly felt heavy and weak as he stopped in his tracks, looking at her with wide eyes. When she looked up at him, his heart seized at the haunted emptiness in her gaze. At that moment, Tumì knew their lives would never be the same.

  Feira’s hands and face were blackened with soot. Her hair was disheveled as tears spilled over her red-rimmed eyes.

  “Oaňa! What has happened?” He held his arms open.

  She fell against him, sobbing into his chest. “Eris’s soldiers attacked my hut. They killed Akahi.”

  “I’m sorry.” Tumì smoothed a hand through her hair and kissed her brow. He was overcome with guilt as he remembered how earlier he’d told Feira to let the old woman go. Now Feira’s mother was dead, and Tumì cursed himself a heartless fool for his ill-timed words. Then the thought struck him as he looked down at the moss which clung to her skirt and hair. Had these soldiers raped his beloved as well? White hot rage inflamed his body and threatened to split his skull in two.

  “Did they hurt you?” he barely breathed the words, more afraid of his reaction than the answer.

  She pulled back as she spoke through a sob. “No, but they are all dead.” She pointed to just beyond the swell of jungle trees.

  It was then he saw the plume of smoke rising up from the canopy. Tumì’s relief was only momentary, for now he knew they must flee. If the townspeople were to discover the carnage, they would mark Feira as a witch.

  “The spice vessels leave for the Shifting Sands today. We must go before the Goddess discovers you.”

  Her mouth fell open as her eyes watered over with fresh tears. “You will go with me?”

  Tumì nodded as his heart hammered out a wild staccato in his chest. “I will follow you anywhere.”

  * * *

  It did not take long for Tumì to secure a position as a crewman on the spice ship, Sate'a Najmeh, The Bright Star. Of the three spice vessels that had survived the voyage to Aloa-Shay’s port, The Bright Star was in sore need of new sailors.

  Tumì learned from the spice traders that Eris’s soldiers had not come in search of Feira. Eris had sent her army to wage war against the Sky Goddess, Madhea, whose imposing mountain throne of ice lay north of the Werewoood Forest. A suicide mission, to be sure.

  Several war ships had beached on the shores West of Aloa-Shay. One ship had even attacked The Bright Star, killing most of the crewmen before seizing the precious spices for themselves. The soldiers Feira had killed had only been a small party of scouts, as thousands more warriors were pouring onto the shoreline.

  The sooner the spice vessels left the harbor, the better, as they were anxious to return to the safety of the Shifting Sands. Tumì only hoped Eris’s soldiers would not invade the town of Aloa-Shay. He briefly thought of those he left behind, including his mother and brother. His whore mother had always been cruel, reminding him almost daily that he was a bastard child, conceived during one of her many trysts with the spice traders.

  “You are dark and ugly,” she would tell him. “Like the bastard who sired you.”

  When Katriana was in a particularly foul mood, she would order Tumì’s older brother, Nuk, to beat him. Though Nuk was mute, there was no mistaking the twisted gleam of excitement in the larger man’s eyes whenever he pounded into Tumì.

  Tumì’s shoulders fell at the realization that he would not miss his family. His only remorse was that he knew his mother would not grieve his absence, only the loss of the coins he provided.

  Tumì had never known love from a woman until he’d met Feira. He had just come from harvesting a palma pod the day he’d met her. She’d been picking healing herbs in the jungle. Though Tumì was only a boy at the time, he had instantly fallen in love with the beautiful girl with the amber eyes, alabaster skin and flame-colored hair.

  She had rubbed cooling herbs on his bruises and cuts, as cutting down the thorny palma fruits was painful, and sometimes deadly, work. But his mother did not care for his safety, so long as she had money to buy flowing dresses and pretty jewels.

  As Tumì and Feira’s friendship blossomed, so did their love for
one another. Soon, she had revealed to him that her powers extended beyond the knowledge of healing herbs. She could ease his pain by smoothing her hands across his sore and tired muscles. He marveled at the soft white aura that shrouded her fingers while she worked.

  Then she revealed to him an even darker secret. Her healing hands had the power to kill, and she’d harnessed that power before, scorching a mighty giant when she’d lived in the dark and dangerous Werewood forest.

  Tumì made a blood promise never to reveal Feira’s secret, for if the village priests were to learn of her witch flame, Feira would have been killed. The jealous bitch goddess, Eris, whose man-eating plants were the reason so many fishermen had lost their lives at sea, would not tolerate the existence of witches. Though Eris’s island throne was across the sea, her reach extended to the shores of Aloa-Shay and the neighboring villages. The Goddess had decreed that any woman showing the slightest sign of power was to be executed, and towns that were thought to harbor witches would be eradicated by her army.

  Luckily, Tumì’s mother had wandered off with a handful of spice traders from another ship, so he was able to trade the family’s store of palma pods in exchange for Feira’s passage on The Bright Star. Then, they could leave this unforgiving land and its bitch deity for good.

  The traders rarely allowed female passengers, but The Bright Star was in desperate need of goods, as they had no more spices to trade. One large palma pod could yield several hundred hearty fruit, which replenished the crewmen on their long journeys, and was a valuable food source to the people of the Shifting Sands.

  Of the five ships that had set out from the Shifting Sands, only the Quamar ‘a Nor, The Moonlight, and the Nor ‘a Sans, Rays of the Sun, had survived along with The Bright Star. Two other spice vessels had perished in a storm. Trade vessels usually only set sail during rough weather, for they feared Eris’s carnivus plants more than the mightiest gales. These plants rose up from the ocean’s floor, and their giant maws were large enough to snap a ship in two. Though these monsters served to protect Eris’s volcanic island home, they ate anything in their path. They appeared to be multiplying, for their destruction stretched far beyond Eris’s volcanic lagoon, out into open waters.

  Tumì’s gaze sought his Oaňa as he helped the crewmen load the vessel with goods. She was sitting in a darkened corner of the ship, knees pulled to her chest and face shrouded beneath the heavy hood of her cloak. Her shoulders shook, and Tumì knew she was mourning the loss of her mother.

  His heart ached, for he knew he could do nothing to comfort her. Tumì sent a silent prayer to the Elements that his beloved would find happiness in their new life among the people of the Shifting Sands.

  Chapter Six

  Feira spent her days serving the sailors food and water. In the evenings, she prepared special herbs for the sick and weak passengers. She made her bed upon the deck of the ship, ignoring the leers of one bold sailor who dared come near. But he soon learned to keep his distance when he wandered too close to her bedroll. She’d conjured a smoke hot enough to singe the hairs off his body.

  Murmurs of witch and sorceress did not escape her notice, but the sailor bothered her no more. Shortly after sunset, Tumì would collapse beside her after long days of washing and polishing the deck. Feira would cover them with her cloak and secretly use her healing fires to soothe his sore muscles.On one particularly calm night, the crewmen were all on edge. Few slept as they kept watch on the dark and placid waters with cannons, spears and torches at the ready.

  There was a saying among the villagers of Aloa-Shay, “Only fools set sail on tranquil waters.”

  Feira had not understood the full weight of this parable until she’d experienced the eerie stillness of that fateful night.

  Feira slowly stood from her bedroll and walked toward the side of the ship while gazing out onto the water. The other ships looked to be nothing more than massive black skeletons against the backdrop of the pale moonlit night, as they eerily cut through the smooth seas with nary a splash. A sailor stood at the stern and bow of each boat, each wielding a bright torch while scanning the ocean.

  And then, despite the stagnant air enveloping Feira like a thick shroud, a breeze blew across the deck, tousling her skirts and whipping through her hair.

  Beware, child. The monsters approach.

  Feira sucked in a sharp breath as a loud crack, followed by terrified screams, sounded from The Moonlight. Feira watched in horror as a monstrous, bulbous head full of teeth latched onto the stern of the boat and spun it in a half-circle.

  Crewmen on The Bright Star were in a frenzy, barking orders and hurling spears as their ship spun toward The Moonlight.

  Tumì had rushed toward Feira and turned to her with a crazed look in his eyes. He grasped her wrist and pulled her back toward her bedroll. “Stay away from the water’s edge, Oaňa.” Spear in hand, he raced to the side of the boat.

  The boards beneath Feira’s soles shook as cannons were fired. But when the smoke had cleared, The Moonlight was already on its side as three more monstrous carnivus plants attacked it. Sailors who’d fallen into the water met a swift end, as several smaller carnivus plants devoured them whole.

  More cannons were fired. More spears were thrown. The jowls of two large carnivus had been blown open, but for every monster that had been shot, two more seemed to take its place. Feira’s heart sank as she heard a horn sound a retreat. The Moonlight and all of its crew would perish.

  A jolt sent Feira sprawling onto the deck. She heard the splintering crack before she saw the monster’s head climbing up the side of the boat. With a deep, feral hiss, it reared back its head before smashing a gaping hole on top of the deck. Coming within a breath of Tumì, the beast ensnared two armed sailors, making easy work of devouring their flailing bodies, spears and all.

  “Oh, Heavenly Elements, protect us,” Feira cried before rising to her feet and lifting her hands in the air. Spirals of flame arced off each fingertip into the night sky, before spinning toward the water and striking the plant with a thunderous clap. Feira raised her arms higher, calling on the Elements again as ten more spirals shot out of her fingers, coating the water’s surface in a sea of flame.

  The monsters emitted strange, guttural squeals, as one by one, their charred bodies slumped back beneath the water’s surface.

  As Feira looked down at her charred fingertips, she was vaguely aware of sailors scurrying to repair the damaged hull. Tears streamed down her face as she realized what she’d done. Now everyone in the Shifting Sands would know her for a witch. Was there nowhere she and Tumì would be safe?

  Chapter Seven

  Feira had no time to lament her fate, not when she had to treat the surviving sailors that had been pulled from the water. Rather than apply herbs on those men that were gravely injured, Feira used her healing fires. Everyone on board had witnessed her display, so there was no sense in hiding her powers.

  After the crewmen had done their best to repair The Bright Star, Tumì stayed beside Feira, helping her attend to the injured.

  It was well into the morning hours before Feira had finished treating the last victim. Surprisingly, the ship’s captain insisted she and Tumì seek rest in his personal sleeping quarters. After sleeping for several nights on the hard deck of the ship, Feira could not refuse the offer of a soft feather bed.

  As Feira lay in the cradle in Tumì ’s arms, for the first night in many moons, a sense of peace washed over her. These crewmen from the Shifting Sands, they had not treated her with disdain after learning of her powers. Though most of them kept their distance, Feira had been treated with nothing short of respect and awe by the few sailors who were bold enough to come near.

  Perhaps, Feira thought, she’d find acceptance among the people of the Shifting Sands.

  * * *

  Feira and Tumì both shot up in bed at the sound of the deafening roar that shook the walls of their cabin.

  Monster!


  She and Tumì shared wide-eyed looks of horror before scrambling to the floor. Before Tumì could stop her, Feira was out the cabin door. With extended fingers, she spun around and lifted her arms, ready to confront whatever beast was attacking their vessel.

  What she saw not only rendered her speechless, but motionless as well.

  Tumì came barreling into her, and then, he, too, gaped at the sight before them—a magnificent golden-hued dragon, whose wingspan easily encompassed the length of their ship.

  Even more shocking was the reaction of the crewmembers onboard. The ship had docked in a harbor, and the traders were carrying their cargo down a long plank, which just so happened to be positioned under the crook of the creature’s wing.

  And not one of them seemed to be alarmed.

  Feira’s gaze shot back to the dragon, who was looking at her with what could only be described as a smirk tilting his heavy, fanged jowls. Her gaze searched the rest of his features, but she could discern no malice shining back in his gold-flecked eyes.

  An ocean breeze flitted through her hair. Warm, crisp tendrils of air soothed the prickles on her arms and nape.

  Friend, the wind whispered.

  Friend? Feira gasped. A monster? How could this be?

  But the wind only answered with a lilting laugh before it blew past her, ruffling Tumì’s tunic and unkempt hair.

  Tumì swatted at the air before shifting closer to Feira’s side.

  Just then the ship’s captain stepped forward. He bowed low to Feira before sweeping an arm toward the monster. “The Great King wishes to speak with you.”

  “The Great King?” Feira rasped as she slowly lowered her arms. All the while, she kept a watchful eye on the dragon.

  The captain nodded while bowing lower. “He was once servant to our fallen goddess, Kyan. Now Tan'yi'na, the magnificent golden dragon, is supreme ruler of the Shifting Sands.” The captain slowly backed away, leaving Feira and Tumì to face the dragon alone.

  Feira swallowed the rising lump of bile in her throat, all the while trying her best to still her quaking limbs. “You rule the Shifting Sands?” she asked, unable to mask the tone of disbelief in her voice.