Sea God of the Sands: Book One of the Firebird’s Daughter Series (Firebird's Daughter 1)

by Kyrja

  * * * * * * * *

  “It has been a very long time since we three have been gathered together,” Giya remarked, calm and placid as ever, Denit noted.

  “Why are you here?” Amphedia directed the question to Siri Ventus.

  “You know why,” the Goddess of Air responded, her voice completely devoid of emotion. Denit wasn’t sure whether she envied Siri for her dispassion or pitied her.

  “Well I don’t,” Aidena countered. Denit watched as Siri cocked her head at Giya, as if inviting her to explain. She was surprised to see the Earth Goddess take a deep, restorative breath. It wasn’t like her to hesitate. She had always spoken her mind to Denit, regardless of whether in praise, criticism, or instruction.

  “Balance,” Giya answered, although she didn’t look at Aidena when she’d spoken.

  Amphedia made a sound of disgust, tinged with impatience, as if this was a very old argument between the three of them, then the tentacles holding Hadia and Nieva were withdrawn, releasing them from her hold. They didn’t seem any worse for their experience, but Denit realized she was deeply disturbed they had been taken captive, even if only for a short time. She could feel her already-frayed temper unraveling. She wanted to take action of some sort now. Right now. But every time it seemed as though she understood where best to act, someone took the opportunity away from her. She wanted to ask why they were even having this discussion. If it was true Siri Ventus had no intention of harming Jarles, or getting in the way so that he could become Amphedia’s heir, then they should just all go back to the city and … whatever it was they needed to do to make it official. It wasn’t as if he needed to have some kind of coronation or ceremony, did he?

  “I have already proclaimed Jarles my heir,” the Storm Goddess said, her lip curling. “What more do you want of me?”

  “Is he willing?” Giya asked.

  “I didn’t ask him,” Amphedia sneered. When nobody spoke, it seemed to Denit as if she rolled her eyes before saying, “He has learned how to transform. He’s as ready as he’s going to be.” Then Amphedia turned her back on them, her anger obvious.

  “Will you stay?” Siri Ventus asked into the silence.

  “He will need your guidance,” Giya added.

  Amphedia didn’t answer right away though. Instead, she drew herself up, her chest heaving for a moment before saying, “For a time.”

  “And you?” Siri asked, turning her face towards Giya.

  Denit was surprised when Giya turned towards Amphedia. “We cannot stop him, you know. We must work together to repair the damage.”

  “Agreed,” was all the Storm Goddess said in return. Denit had a feeling Amphedia did not, in fact, agree, but felt she had no choice in whatever they were talking about.

  “Wait!” Aidena said, frowning. “What are you going to do?”

  “Denit, turn around, please. Look behind you,” Giya told her, softly.

  What kind of trick was this? What could possibly be behind her? But she did as she was asked, despite the strong desire to disobey rising in her. What she saw there, in the sand, and through the trees where she had walked, though, made her mouth drop open with naked fear. It was obvious, more than obvious, where she had walked. There was a path of utter destruction laid out before her. Not only was the land blackened, but it seemed as though sand was actually pouring out of the ragged wound left in the ground at her passing. Even among the trees, where at least some of the length of the path she’d taken must be soil, there was sand leaking, pouring, or seeping out of the ground.

  “How?” She was amazed she was able to even get that one word out of her mouth. She was stunned. Stunned and ashamed.

  “Ah, my dear child,” Giya looked at her and for the first time in her very long life, Denit saw tears in her eyes. “I made you with love and hope. And you have done so much good. You’ve been my joy for so long.”

  “You made me?” Denit felt her head explode with questions and her heart squeeze itself empty.

  “Tell her,” Denit heard the Goddess of Air say, and this time she heard emotion in the deity’s voice; it was anger.

  “No!” Amphedia suddenly hissed, turning around. “I will tell her.” Denit could actually feel her hackles rising, in the form of a tale tell tingling along the tops of her shoulders, as Amphedia walked several steps closer to her.

  “Your mother,” she spat the word out, “made you a couple of hundred years ago in the vain hope that she could bleed off some of the outrageous amounts of energy your father has been expending on this small lump of a world. Have you even seen the world around you Denit? Do you know the land is dying?”

  “If you were more generous with the water you allow people to have…” Denit shouted at her.

  “There isn’t enough! And there’s less and less all the time because the heat from Sov makes the water evaporate, not expand,” Amphedia told her, with her green eyes narrowed in anger, in a voice designed to teach children.

  ‘”It was an bold attempt,” Siri Ventus interrupted.

  “But it wasn’t enough!” Amphedia exploded. “It’s never enough because Sov is self-serving and cares nothing for the humans who serve him!”

  “Not true,” Giya countered. “Denit was his idea.”

  Given the silence with which this proclamation was met, Denit was certain it was true.

  “None of this matters,” Aidena interjected. “All that matters is what we’re going to do about it.”

  “Do?” Amphedia snarled. “The only thing that can be done is to …”

  “Can she be repaired?” Siri Ventus asked.

  “No.” Denit had never heard Giya’s voice sound so quiet and forlorn. Never had she heard the goddess … her mother? … speak so quietly.

  “Do you see the destruction you’ve caused?” Amphedia asked, holding Denit’s eyes with her own. “Can you see what is happening right this very moment? Do you understand that the sand will continue to pour out of the wound you’ve left behind for all time?”

  “You don’t know that,” Giya said, angry again.

  “Do you know that it won’t?” Siri asked.

  “You don’t know that … “ Giya stuttered. “That your plan will make any difference either.”

  “You’re talking about killing her, aren’t you?” Aidena stepped closer to Amphedia, her outrage overriding her fear of the Storm Goddess.

  “Fix the seed inside of me!” Denit turned to Giya, pleading. “Everything was all right until it cracked. Why can’t you just fix it?”

  “The fire inside of you is stronger than the shell I put around it, dear child, the fire cannot be contained. Even if we fix it for a time, the fire will continue to grow.”

  “Why did you make me like this?” Denit shouted. “Why make me just to die?”

  “Everyone and everything dies,” Siri Ventus intoned, her voice even and rigid. “You have lived an unnaturally long life already. Be satisfied.”

  “No!” Denit screamed, her entire body igniting with fury. She jumped a short distance into the air, then stomped on the ground beneath her with both feet, and in the next moment, she disappeared beneath the sand.

  “You idiots!” Aidena screamed, her teeth bared and her fists curled. Then she spread her arms to her sides and spun herself around once before she, too, disappeared, the wind of her passing threatening to push them all over.

  “Go to Jarles,” Siri Ventus said, speaking to Amphedia. “He may soon rule over a land of nothing but sand, but you must try.” Without a word, Amphedia’s body sank into the sand.

  “Grandmother?” Nieva called out to Siri. “Oculis is here.”

  In the next moment, he appeared directly over the little girl in human form, with wings. Without a word, he snatched her from the sand, then flew away, taking her with him.

  Chapter Thirty-Three – The Savior

  The teardrop shaped stone felt warm in Batal’s hand, and was, to her surprise, distinctly pulsing; almost as if it had a life of its own. For that matter,
she thought, it might. She had hoped by taking it away from Sabbah that he would revert to his human form and would no longer be a threat to Savaar. But that hadn’t worked out so well. He obviously was a true son of the Storm Goddess, or he would have changed back into his human form once she had taken the stone from him. At least, that’s what made sense to her. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean she was right. It was entirely possible he only needed the Tear to transform the first time, or to use it as he had against Savaar’s scattered body inside the temple.

  Still, she had read plenty of lore which told of those who had “found” a Tear of Amphedia who were not her true children reborn. The stories told of painful transformations and a longing for return to the human world. She remembered those stories vividly, because she’d always wondered who, exactly, had written them. She had always suspected those stories had been written by the priests and priestesses who didn’t want normal, everyday people out looking for the Tears. Indeed, each of the stories ended with admonishments to seek one’s faith leader in determining the authenticity of such a stone, should one be found.

  No matter the truth of the Tears, standing just inside the shattered temple doorway, Batal had been watching the fight between Sabbah and Savaar, hoping not to have to activate the stone herself, because she really didn’t know what would happen. She assumed the man who had turned himself into the bubble of protection was Jarles, but, again, she wasn’t entirely certain. For all she knew, it was yet another brother or sister of Savaar’s, or maybe even Amphedia herself, though she doubted that very much. The Storm Goddess wasn’t known for being quite so concerned with those who served her.

  Savaar was holding his own, really, but Batal was more concerned with the men, women, and children, who were in danger of being crushed, drowned, or otherwise injured. Her duty, she knew, was to Savaar, but it had always been the people that came first, and today she could not ignore the very obvious need right in front of her. She looked again at the Tear in her hand, suppressing a finger of fear making its way up her back, causing her to shiver involuntarily. She’d seen Kerr press it to his chest before he had transformed into Sabbah. She couldn’t help but to hope she wasn’t about to make matters worse. What if she lost her own personality and became more like him? She shook her head a little, willfully dislodging the voices of fear, clamoring for her attention. Enough. If she was going to do this thing, then she had better do it now, before anyone else got hurt or killed.

  * * * * * * * *

  Exhausted. Or, maybe, just used up. Jarles felt his body wavering, much like the feeling of having run too far, too fast in the heat, when your body starts to twitch on its own, warning you that your legs are about to turn to jelly, and you’re about to fall flat on your face if you don’t stop right now. He could see most of the people were gone, although those who had been closest to the temple stairs were still trying to shove and push their way to safety. There were only a few laying on the ground, moaning or writhing in pain. Perhaps a handful were both bloody and unmoving. He wasn’t going to be able to hold this shape much longer, regardless. Reaching up a small appendage of water to the foot currently standing on him, he could feel it was Savaar. For a moment, he was surprised that he could tell, wondering how it was even possible for him to know, then he discarded his curiosity as unimportant. He would be able to experiment all he wanted at some later date. Provided he survived.

  He had no idea how any of this … worked? … but he remembered being submerged many times and the fact he had been able to instantly tell whether the water he was in was healthy or unhealthy, and knew the names of each plant, creature, and lifeform within a large radius. This seemed no different. He sent out a thought to Savaar, telling him he was going to stand up now.

  The weight of the foot on his body was immediately removed, then he felt Savaar’s hand reach into him. Jarles let go of the shield form, concentrating on becoming his human shape, but still made of water. He smiled to himself for a brief moment before he felt himself punched in the face. When he fell to the ground, he had a moment to consider the fact that the impact was different than those he’d had while flesh and blood. It didn’t really hurt, nor had the punch done any real damage, like knocking teeth out, or damaging his vision. It felt more like there was a part of himself that was somehow missing. As he picked himself up, he realized he was smaller than the other two and briefly considered making himself larger, but discarded the idea immediately. The two of them weren’t going to do enough damage to each other to make a difference. They would just keep fighting and it would be the people who would suffer.

  That’s when he heard a blood-curdling scream coming from the doorway of the temple.

  * * * * * * * *

  Eruitt couldn’t believe his eyes. The woman was changing right in front of him. She was holding out her hands in front of herself, shaking with what he assumed was terror and maybe even pain. He was pretty sure it would probably hurt to have your skin suddenly covered with scales, and fins start to grow out of your head and back. There were other changes too, but it was happening so fast, it wasn’t possible to watch them all. Nor did he have any idea what he should be doing for her.

  He and Ramil had circled around a couple of buildings, finally finding a way to get around the crowd, and back to the temple, just in time to see the woman changing from a human into … whatever she was changing into. A kind of fish creature? He glanced at Ramil, a question in his eyes, but he only shrugged in return. He didn’t know what to do either.

  That’s when someone else pushed him out of the way. Another man about his own age, obviously from the desert by his coloring, but wearing clothes more often found in the city. He was about to protest when he saw that Ishra and Easif were with him.

  “What is he doing?” Eruitt asked them.

  “I don’t know,” Easif said, her eyes wide. “He just started running over here and we came with him.”

  “It was like he knew something was happening before we even got here,” Ishra added.

  “He’s with you?” Eruitt asked.

  Easif just nodded, caught up in watching as Kaya wrapped his arms around the young woman, crooning or chanting something that was helping her to stay calm. She was still changing, but she seemed more in control of herself now, nodding her head at whatever Kaya was saying to her.

  Eruitt’s eyes widened and he craned his neck to see better when he thought he caught a glimpse of bright green light coming from the man’s hands as he touched the woman’s neck.

  * * * * * * * *

  Certainly he was hallucinating. And, really, that was all right, because reality was horrific at the moment, Chared thought. Wouldn’t it be something though? To have a Tear of Amphedia within reach? To truly be a son of Amphedia?

  He had to admit the tear-shaped stone was absolutely lovely. It wasn’t quite as big as he thought it would be though. He had looked everywhere his mind would allow him to travel while he’d been chained to the stone tablet, but never would have guessed it would be so small. A distant part of him wondered why his mind would imagine the Tear as being so small, though. Perhaps, he thought, with startling clarity, because it wasn’t quite as important as he’d thought it was after all.

  Chared thought he felt the fingers of his right hand move, as if to reach out and grasp it, even if he already knew it was an illusion.

  * * * * * * * *

  Sabbah watched in horror as his hand began to lose shape. It shouldn’t be doing that. He didn’t need the Tear to remain fluid. In fact, he’d never held his own Tear before this lifetime. He had always been awakened by his mother touching his chest with the damned thing in the past, then taking it away from him. How he hated her. But not as much as he hated Savaar. He looked at his brother now, realizing that he had stopped fighting him and was simply standing there, looking at him, a look of worry in his eyes.

  It seemed like the whole world was starting to waver around him, and he felt lightheaded. Lowering his hand, or what was left of it, he b
ent over to rest his hands on his knees, but missed, silently chastising himself for not remembering that he didn't have one of his hands. There were too many half-formed thoughts swirling around in his mind to keep track of what was important, but he did wish he had remembered about the hand before bending over, as he fell down on the ground, unable to keep his balance. It seemed to Sabbah his body was shrinking, or that he was getting smaller. Weren’t they the same thing? He wasn’t sure any more, unable to keep his eyes open. His last thought before he hit the stones of the street was that he was glad he wasn’t human any more, or it would hurt when he finished falling.

  * * * * * * * *

  The street was beginning to fill with people again, now that the fight between two giant men made of water had stopped. Nobody was coming too close yet, though, as Savaar was still, undoubtedly, perceived as a threat. He knelt close to Jarles, holding out his hand to him. Jarles found they could communicate this way, while they were still in their fluid forms, without anyone else hearing them.

  “Who is he?” was the first question he wanted answered.

  “You won’t like the answer,” he could hear a deep sigh in Savaar’s response. “But that can wait. We need to take advantage of this moment, right now.”

  “What do you mean?” Jarles asked, even though he knew the answer. He just didn’t know that he was ready. Would he ever be? He felt Savaar chuckle a little, then he felt it when Savaar had made up his mind, no matter what his own choice might be. Savaar withdrew his hand, standing again.