Chasing The Wind (Novella) (4 page)

Authors: D.K. Holmberg

BOOK: Chasing The Wind (Novella)

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Calin grunted, nodding as if slow to understand her words. “Then we go on.”

With that, he turned and continued west.

Z
ephra stopped suddenly
when she saw the sudden swath of darkness in the distance where the ground fell precipitously away to a rocky canyon below. Any misstep would lead them tumbling down the rock toward the wide Fosa River winding through the canyon.

Calin lagged behind, reaching the ridge a few moments after her, panting with ragged breath. “Hurry,” he huffed, barely slowing as he moved past her.

Zephra frowned, wanting to pause and rest, knowing the waste was nearly behind them. The Fosa marked the western edge of the waste, leading into a craggy brush before finally receding into the heavy forest flanking the border between Incendin and the kingdoms. If she stood atop the peak long enough, she hoped she would finally feel a hint of cool air.

Then she looked back. The wall of heat that had pressed on them all afternoon seemed suddenly solid. Searing heat blasted at her face, sucking the breath from her lungs.

The shaper approached.

Zephra hurried over the ridge.

Calin found a winding path snaking its way across down the rock. He moved quickly, but his once straight back sagged under Lia’s continued weight. How much longer could he hold out?

Zephra slid more than stepped along the narrow path. At the bottom, Calin stood staring at one of the twisted thorny trees, a white blossom blooming from the end of a branch. It was surprisingly beautiful. He plucked the flower carefully, pinching it off with his fingers, and tucked it under Lia’s shirt. Then he hurried to the water and filled the waterskin, pouring the water onto Lia’s chest.

She wasn’t sure if she was more surprised that the flowers actually existed or that Calin appeared to know about the healing properties. She didn’t have a chance to see what happened next. The air shimmered with renewed heat.

A blackened figure stood atop the ridge. The fire shaper practically glowed.

She sensed the building energy and ran to push Calin forward. “The water!” she shouted, slamming into his back as they stumbled toward the Fosa.

Then she splashed into water impossibly warm. She swam, early years spent along the shores of Vette Ver in Doma making her strokes sure and strong. Calin flopped nearby and she swam to him. Taking Lia from him, hooking the girl’s arm around her neck, she pulled Lia toward the opposite shore.

A blast of heat struck the water, turning much of it to steam.

Zephra cursed. The wide river flowed slowly, barely any current at all and certainly not enough to pull them safely away from the shaper. Another such blast and they would burn. They needed to reach the other shore.

Before the second blast, she felt the shaper’s released energy. “Dive!” she hollered, ducking under the water and kicking. Calin seemed to understand and she saw him swimming near her, his strokes more sure and quick, his strength returning.

Lia writhed in her arms, coughing again. White petals from the flower fluttered out from under her shirt, pulled by a current she did not feel. Zephra cupped a hand over Lia’s mouth and nose to keep her from inhaling water before kicking her legs forward, gliding through the water. She felt the explosion as the blast struck.

Pale green shimmered in the water around her.

At first, she thought it little more than her imagination, but the colors seemed to swirl and move, as if alive, swarming from the loose petals toward Lia. In her arms, Lia was engulfed in color. Zephra kicked on, uncertain how much longer she could hold her breath and praying to the Great Mother she could reach the shore before the shaper could unleash another attack. The water cooled the farther she swam, invigorating her.

Lia suddenly spasmed.

With one last kick, Zephra flung herself up and out of the water, a brown grassy shore nearly in reach. Calin stood on the edge of the shore and reached into the water, pulling Lia from her arms. Water slid off the girl.

Zephra staggered out of the water and collapsed. Across the Fosa, the shaper stood, staring with malevolent eyes. Heat simmered from him, rising from the rock like a protective haze. Approaching the edge of the water, he hissed.

“Return the girl to me and you may live.” The fire shaper took a step toward the water. Steam rose around him, the water prevented his easy crossing.

Zephra felt the subtle shaping to the words, something else she had never heard of a fire shaper doing. A blast of heat rolled over the water, threatening to boil away the river.

Again she marveled at his strength. Only then did she make the connection.

The shaping he had worked on himself had strengthened him, bound him closer to fire, and turned him into something more than a simple fire shaper.

She looked over to where Calin cradled Lia. Miraculously the girl breathed. Her eyes even flickered, threatening to open. What was it about Lia that gave the shaper such power? Was there something about the Aeta that he sought?

What would happen were he to recapture her?

The idea frightened Zephra. If this one shaper could become so powerful, what would happen if others did the same?

No one would be safe. Not the Aeta. Not Doma. Not the kingdoms.

Zephra’s strength had returned. Perhaps it getting out of the hot sun or perhaps it was something about the water. Either way, she felt better than she had in days. A cool breeze blew over her like a soft welcoming breath.

“The girl, little wind shaper. Now.”

Zephra shook her head. Whatever else happened to her, it no longer mattered if she ever caught the wind so long as this shaper failed to capture Lia. She
was
a wind shaper, even if expelled from the university.

“You will never have her,” she said. She spoke softly, letting her words carry on the soft breeze. “Know always that it was Zephra who stopped you.”

Zephra smiled, grabbing at the wind. Somehow she knew she would catch it, no longer chasing. She formed a shaping, pressing against the fire shaper, strength for strength, summoning reserves she did not know she had. The sudden torrent of wind twisted into a funnel, sending water spinning toward the fire shaper.

He roared.

Water steamed, and Zephra intensified her shaping, sending more and more water toward him. With one last surge of shaping, she sent a powerful gust across the Fosa, blasting with every ounce of her ability.

Water and rock smashed into the sheer stone face with a thunderous explosion.

Fatigue stole the remainder of her shaping from her. Zephra sagged to her knees, staring across the river, but saw no sign of the shaper. Whether destroyed or simply escaped, she didn’t care.

She turned toward Calin and Lia.

Calin crouched with his arms around Lia, a look of amazed awe on his face.

Lia’s eyes were open, clearly healed. She wondered if it were the flower or something else about the water that had healed her. Or possibly both.

Lia watched her with eyes wiser than any girl should have. Zephra again wondered what secret she hid, what reason the fire shaper had such interest in her, before deciding it didn’t matter. She was safe.

When Zephra stood, Calin pulled Lia to her feet as well. “Come,” she said. “We near the kingdoms. Safety.”

Lia smiled slightly, soft wind tickling her long hair. “Not Doma?”

Zephra thought about the way the wind played across her hair, pulling on her arms. The wind blowing out of the kingdoms, out of Galen, had a comfort to it. She shaped the wind, no longer feeling the need to chase it, and smiled. “Not Doma,” she said.

About the Author

D
K Holmberg
currently lives in rural Minnesota where the winter cold and the summer mosquitoes keep him inside and writing.

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