kurtherian gambit 23.7 - tales of feisty druid 07 Read online

  Selena stood at the bow of her ship, staff held firm. The tip of the staff was planted in a cup of seawater, allowing her to channel the power of the sea itself. Storm Callers had a reputation for ruling whatever body of water they sailed across.

  Each Caller was put through trials and trained rigorously throughout their life; only when they had proven themselves to be the best of the best were they given an assignment on a ship.

  To even be considered, each potential Storm Caller would be thrown into the sea, while another Caller would stand on land, calling forth a hellacious storm. The waters would become dangerous at best, but deadly for many. If the sea swallowed the contender, their training was obviously not yet finished if they survived.

  Pitted against a senior Storm Caller’s magic, only recruits strong enough to calm the waters and swim to shore would be bestowed the sought-after title of Caller.

  How well they performed during their trial would determine what ship they were assigned to, and if they would even be chosen right away.

  Selena was one of the best. Her training had always been strong, and she was certainly one of the most gifted. But on her training day, a moment of distraction allowed her to be swallowed by the angry waters. She nearly drowned, but at the last moment, overcame her fear and took control.

  Though she pulled herself to the surface and managed to swim the rest of the way to the shore, the damage had already been done, and she was passed up in favor of those who she considered much weaker than herself.

  She worked harder than ever, rebuilding her reputation, allowing her fury at her own weakness to drive her. That determination got her noticed by Captain Tor. While he didn’t have room on his own ship for her, a new ship had been crafted within his fleet, and he offered her a position on it.

  Being associated with the captain was an honor above all. Even though she wouldn’t be Calling on his ship, she excitedly accepted the opportunity to be accepted as part of his fleet.

  When he was killed by his own people, the very people that had claimed to love and adore him—in his hometown of Holdgate, no less—she and her captain had decided to carry on his work.

  There was still much to be done, and the Storm Raiders would continue on in Captain Tor’s honor. Selena was eternally grateful to him for the opportunities he had given her. As far as she was concerned, she would never be done doing his work.

  She had received word there was a growing village down south, with weapons that had been newly engineered, and were promised to be stronger than anything anyone had ever seen.

  Granted, that information had come from a drunk man who had purchased such a weapon—negating the idea that it would be unique among people in that area.

  But still, Selena and Captain Seth planned to sail out and explore other areas, far away from the village. In those places, their weapons certainly wouldn’t have been seen. They would be unique and powerful among those people.

  They could rip apart any village they chose and take whatever they wanted. No one could stop them.

  “Do you see that?” the captain asked.

  Selena nodded, a smile on her face. “Where do you think I’m headed?”

  Captain Seth laughed. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Do you think we might find weapons there?”

  With little hesitation, she said, “No. I highly doubt the people here have much of anything. The village we are looking for is farther south than this, and they use strong tents for housing. Not shitty houses built out of rock and whatever junk pieces of wood they can find.”

  The captain shrugged. “No matter. If they have anything, we’ll find it. Bring her in.”

  Selena smiled. “Yes, sir.”

  Her eyes flashed greenish blue as thunder boomed overhead. She gripped her staff tighter as she felt the magic flow through her. The wind changed direction then, aiming them directly for the village.

  Though she couldn’t hear them over the sounds of the crashing waves against the ship and the loud wind whipping around her, she saw people racing out of the water and onto dry land. She was caught off guard by just how many people were swimming, especially in early fall—the waters were far too cold.

  As they got close, the crew began to fill the boats on the side of the ship and lower themselves down. Selena grabbed her staff and made for the one designated for her. It would stay on the water, far enough away she could channel the power of the sea, but close enough that she could effectively use her magic.

  “Go, go, go!” Seth shouted. “No mercy.”

  The men and women screamed out in excitement at the captain’s words, as Selena used her abilities to push their boats toward shore. It didn’t take long for her to find her own position, and for the Raiders to reach land. Within seconds, they had weapons drawn and were rushing the village.

  Now that she was much closer, she could hear the screams of terror. The villagers ran, but not many tried to fight; it was obvious the village was full of peaceful people.

  Oh, well. Too bad for them, she thought. They deserve to die for their stupidity.

  Her eyes flashed again as lightning began to web across the sky.

  ***

  Brann saw the ship as he rose to the surface. It was heading toward his village, but not directly. The angle was such that it appeared it could turn away at any moment. Unfortunately, that didn’t last.

  Thunder cracked overhead, and the wind began to blow from the east, turning the ship directly toward his village. Brann’s eyes widened just before they flashed aquamarine. He dove under the water, where he was fastest, and swam for shore.

  Once there, he ran as hard as he could, hoping to reach the rear of his village before the invaders did. He knew getting caught would result in a very quick and, more than likely, painful death.

  He hid behind a small cottage at the back of his village. Their homes were small and modest, quickly built and easily maintained. They didn’t need much room, as most of their time was spent outdoors or in the sea. Still, their homes held all of their belongings, what little they had.

  He could smell smoke and quickly saw the plumes rising overhead. Those men were setting his village on fire, and there was nothing he could do about it.

  He heard the screams of terrified villagers. Risking a peek around the corner of the cottage, he saw for the first time exactly what his grandparents and the rest of the original settlers had feared most.

  He’d heard tales of the remnant, and knew what they looked like. These were men. Humans. But they were not much different.

  His gut twisted as he saw a young woman running in his direction, heading for the end of the village, only to be impaled by a spear. It had been thrown from some distance behind her, by one of the biggest men Brann had ever seen.

  The girl grunted, almost gurgled, then the sound was cut off as she fell forward from the force. Her eyes were wide, her jaw slack. Brann saw no pain on her face, only the shock and fear that she had felt in her last moments.

  Anger swelled inside of him. The man—the murderer—almost growled, a dark smile spreading across his face as he locked eyes with Brann. As Brann stared into the eyes of that man, knowing for the first time the true cruelty the world was capable of, he thought again of the shark.

  The shark, he realized, wasn’t so bad. It didn’t go after the calf because it was an evil creature. That shark had gone after the calf because it had smelled the blood and had followed its instincts. It was simply surviving.

  The man now approaching him with a smile that reminded him of the jagged grin of the great white, did not kill for necessity. He did not kill on instinct. He did not kill to survive.

  He killed because he enjoyed it.

  “Come here, boy,” the man said as he pulled his spear free from the young woman that now lay dead on the ground. “I’ve got something for you. She liked it. See? She’s speechless.” The man laughed, and Brann grew even angrier.

  As he stepped out from behind the cottage, the man’s murderous eyes
widened.

  “Not gonna run?” he asked.

  Brann slowly shook his head, his fists clenched tight. His head was angled down, but his aqua-colored eyes were staring straight into those of the bastard standing before him.

  “Impressive. Stupid, but impressive,” the man said with another demented smile.

  Brann’s eyes flashed even brighter as his hands went out to his sides. He moved his hands in flat circles, as if on a table before him. The Raider’s smile faded as he began to cough.

  Brann drew nearly all of the moisture out of the air surrounding the man, making it very difficult for him to breathe. He then shoved his hands downward, forcing all the water into the ground around the man.

  As large as the man was, he immediately began to sink into the softened sand, and fear spread across his face.

  Not enough.

  Brann continued to work, pulling more and more moisture out of the air and forcing it downward as the man struggled, tripping as he tried to free himself of the quicksand.

  Now that he was flat, Brann was able to make even quicker work of him, forcing the wet sand to swallow him up to the shoulders. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to deliver the final blow. Even after seeing what he had, he was still only a boy.

  Instead, he left it for the gods to decide. If the man struggled and killed himself, it would be the gods who willed it.

  Brann ducked behind the cottage again, choosing his next path carefully. He needed to find his parents and baby sister. In his village, the elderly stayed in homes with children who were too young to swim in the sea, and who hadn’t yet been taught magic.

  His young sister was a very strong swimmer at four years old, but still didn’t have her magic. He was five when he learned his, so he knew she wasn’t long off. But she was still too young to escape to the water in hopes of fleeing.

  He found his way to a cottage that was just a few down from his family’s. He looked around the corner, his eyes widening as he saw the smoke billowing from his home. His heart began to race, all sense of self-preservation gone as he ran for the tiny house.

  As he approached, he saw his sister climbing out of the window, tears streaming down her dirty face. She fell to the ground, coughing and clutching at her chest. He ran to her, pulling her to his chest as he wrapped her legs around his waist, and turned to run.

  “It’s okay, Sasha,” he said, not certain he believed that himself. “I’ve got you.”

  “Mommy and daddy…” the little girl said, sniffling as she spoke.

  His heart sank as he carefully made his way around the cottage. He could hear the screams of death all around him. He could smell burning meat, and knew that it wasn’t animal he was smelling. All he wanted to do was collapse, curl up in a ball, and cry his eyes out.

  But he couldn’t.

  “There you are!” a man growled, chilling Brann to the bone.

  He turned his head and saw a man coming for them. It appeared that he had come out of the cottage. Without a doubt, Brann knew that his parents were dead. They had died to save his sister.

  He sure as hell wasn’t about to let them die in vain.

  He set his sister down on the ground. “Close your eyes, Sasha,” he told her.

  “Aw, isn’t that sweet?” the man said from behind him. “Doesn’t matter. You’ll be dead soon, just like your parents in that little hut there, and then we’ll be back on our way south. You’ll never be thought of again.”

  Brann stood and turned, knowing that this time he didn’t have a choice. If it came down to himself or that man, he would have to choose himself. His sister had no one left and would certainly die without him.

  Brann didn’t know how to fight, but when the man came at him with the spear, he was surprised that he had incredibly quick reflexes. All his time in the water, playing with the dolphins had made him stronger and faster on land.

  The spear was thrust forward, and Brann easily spun out of the way. His eyes flashed aquamarine, and he became very aware that he had used far too much magic in the last fight. This time, he would have to do the one thing he knew he could do but had desperately tried to avoid.

  As the man thrust forward again, Brann spun out of the way, rolling to the ground and coming up on his knees. He lifted his hands into the air, just as he would if he were pulling oxygen from the water to create a bubble around his head. Then he spun them as if he were circling them around the ball, and water was pulled from the air to engulf the man’s head.

  The man’s eyes went wide, and he very quickly fell to his knees, scratching and clawing at the water, trying to get away from it.

  But Brann held strong.

  Looking over at his sister, he saw that not only were her eyes closed tight, but her little hands covered them as well, her knees pulled tight into her chest as she trembled in fear. He wished that he could close his own eyes. He wished that he didn’t have to see what he was about to do, but if he closed his eyes for even a second, the spell would weaken, and the man would get free.

  Instead, he allowed the death of his parents and the need to save his sister fill him with strength.

  Brann watched the man grow weaker and weaker, until finally he fell forward on the ground. Brann knew not to let the water go; the man had simply passed out. He wasn’t dead yet.

  Brann’s chest heaved a bit, as tears filled his eyes, and he sniffed as he fought back the urge to sob. He could feel the man dying.

  And then, it was done. Whatever life essence had been there before, wasn’t there now.

  Brann knew he’d caused that, but he couldn’t dwell on that now.

  “Bubby?” His sister’s voice was terrified and weak. “Bubby, are you still there? Please don’t be dead, too. I can’t look.”

  His heart ached at Sasha’s words, and he quickly dropped his magic and rushed over to her.

  “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” He picked her up and wrapped her around him, just as he had before. “Be very quiet. I have to get us to the water. We have family down south, and we need to warn them.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “So, what you’re saying is, you’d totally be open to a fling with Sam if you two were the last people on Irth,” Arryn said to Cathillian.

  Samuel groaned. “I don’t like this game.”

  “Oh, come on. It’s not that bad,” Cleo said. “He’s certainly the prettiest man I’ve ever seen.”

  Cathillian turned and smiled with excitement. “Thank you, Cleo. At least someone thinks so.” He turned to Arryn. “And that’s not at all what I said. You know you’re the only person I could stand to irritate for eternity.”

  “Stop trying to get out of this so easily,” Arryn said, on the verge of laughing. “The rules were simple. You had to choose between spending a night with Talia or spending the night with Samuel. You clearly chose Sam. I mean, Talia was an evil, horrible, piece of shit, but all that aside, she was an attractive female. Don’t get mad at me, I didn’t make up the rules.”

  Another groan came from the rearick. “That was a damned setup if I ever saw one. Besides… We’re supposed ta be on a serious journey here. Do ye really have nothin’ better ta do than pick on me?”

  Cathillian let out a hmmph. “Maybe I just prefer quality over looks. Is that so shocking?” he asked Arryn. After a brief pause, he turned back to Samuel. “No offense.”

  The rearick rolled his eyes. “None taken. We ain’t a pretty lot.”

  Arryn opened her mouth to speak, planning to crack a joke about Cathillian’s obvious narcissism and why his choice was so funny, but Samuel interrupted. “Ye know what? Since all ye bastards ‘re out ta make a joke outta little ol’ me, and Cathillian here was willin’ ta choose me in that rotten scenario, I’d have te say I’d accept. ‘Cause if I was left with any o’ yer mean asses, the human species would still die out. At least with him, I’d be respected. Yer a bunch o’ assholes.”

  Arryn and the twins laughed at being called assholes.

  “H
a! See? Quality. Don’t worry, Sam. I got your back,” Cathillian said.

  Bast laughed really hard. “We know! That’s why we’re laughing so hard!”

  “I hate you all,” Cathillian said.

  Arryn was about to respond again, but silhouettes in the distance caught her attention.

  She and her group had been traveling for a couple of days by the time they approached the main road that led from Craigston to Arcadia. The road was mostly frequented by rearick headed to the city to deliver amphorald crystals—stones that gave power to weapons, lights, and many other things—as well as anyone outside of the city who might be able to buy the products. It wasn’t uncommon to see travelers on the road.

  Before the bandits had invaded the Valley, the main road had been the safest way to travel, for rearick and farmers alike. Farmers and crafters would take their goods to Arcadia and sell them to shops or passersby. It was how they made their money. But as of late, people were far too terrified to travel the road, because of the dangers that lurked in the shadows.

  As Arryn watched the small group of people heading toward the city, she said, “Well, that’s a good sign. It seems people are braving the road again.”

  Snow grumbled beneath her, and Arryn’s brows furrowed. She looked forward, squinting as she tried to inspect the travelers from such a distance.

  “What is it?” Cathillian asked.

  “Snow says she can smell blood on those people,” she replied. “Blood can mean anything, though. I can’t tell from here if they’re hostile or friendly.”

  “If they were hostile, I’d think they’d be travelin’ off ta the side o’ the road, an’ not directly on it,” Samuel said.

  Arryn only nodded her head, sending a silent message to Snow to pick up the pace. Without hesitation, the tiger acquiesced. Within moments, the travelers in question became much more visible, and Arryn could see adults in the front and back of their party, with children in the middle.

  They were traveling as a pride of lions would, with the strongest around the perimeter, and the youngest and weakest toward the center.