Yellow Mud’s buildings were simple structures: wooden walls made from stacked oak logs topped with pitched, straw-thatched roofs. Homes had small, stone pipe chimneys sticking from the roof, allowing smoke from the stove-pots inside to escape out. The climate of the area allowed for open-air windows in buildings, letting a breeze flow through should one ever come. Every so often, a rare cold snap visited during the winter turns, forcing residents to jam straw pads in the holes. None in Yellow Mud were prosperous enough to afford a luxury like glass.
Father and son were halfway home when Jak caught a whiff of wet metal. Thinking he had imagined the odor, Jak sniffed the air twice. Each time, the scent was a little stronger. Curious, he turned to look at his father.
Thaddeus, a perplexed expression already on his face, asked, “Do you smell rain, son?”
“I was going to ask you that.”
Both men slowed to a stop and turned in a circle, searching the heavens for signs of a storm they both knew was not coming.
Jak muttered, “How is that possible?” When Thaddeus did not respond, Jak glanced over. His father’s face was lined with worry. “Father?”
Over neighbors’ chattering voices, Jak heard what sounded like a strong wind blowing through the boughs of the forest. That made less sense than the smell of rain. The only thing rarer than a shower this time of year was a stiff breeze. As he faced north, the sound shifted, no longer the wind in the trees, but something which he could still name.
“If I did not know better, I’d say that was a waterfall.”
Turning to see what his father thought of his assessment, he found himself alone in the road. Other Yellow Mud residents had stopped whatever they had been doing and were now staring north, bewilderment on their faces. The only person moving with any sort of purpose was the patriarch of the Isaac family, sprinting as fast as he could.
Thaddeus glanced over his shoulder and shouted, “Move it, Jak!” His eyes were as round as the two moons. “Now!”
Confused and suddenly very worried, Jak hurried after his father.
Chapter 2: Lake
Brother and sister stood beneath the boughs of an old oak, staring north through the tree trunks.
“Tell me you hear that,” muttered Kenders.
Not only did Nikalys hear it, he recognized the distant, familiar roar. He said in bewilderment, “That sounds like a waterfall.” There were no waterfalls anywhere near Yellow Mud. Looking to her, he asked, “Have you ‘felt’ anything else since the clearing?”
She shrugged. “It comes and goes.” She opened her mouth to say more, but shut it quickly.
Recognizing her reluctance, Nikalys prompted, “What?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Kenders? You can tell me.”
Sighing, she peered up at him, her worried expression matching the anxiety growing inside him. He wondered if she had remembered the same stories he had.
“You’ll laugh if I tell you.”
He would be thrilled if that were the case. “Try me.”
“I…” She trailed off, paused, and then murmured, “I feel colors.”
Unsure he had heard her correctly, he said, “Pardon?”
Her cheeks flushed.
“I feel the color blue.”
He was not laughing. In fact, her words further fueled his worries.
“How in the Nine Hells do you ‘feel’ a color?”
“I don’t know!” hissed Kenders. “How am I ‘feeling’ the crackling sound?”
“Perhaps you’ve had too much sun?”
“That’s not it. And you know it.”
Nikalys rubbed his cheeks, sighed, and remained quiet, not wanting to say what he was thinking.
After a few moments, Kenders looked north again. “I say we get a closer look.”
Surprised, Nikalys asked, “Are you sure?”
Kenders strode past him toward a break in the trees. “I need to know what this is.”
Nikalys shook his head and followed. When Kenders made her mind up to do something, there was no use in arguing with her.
The waterfall’s roar grew as they neared the lake. Upon reaching the edge of the tree line, they stopped and peered north, across the water’s surface which ran clear to the horizon. The ground sloped down to the shore’s edge, a sand and mud beach littered with smooth stones. Their shoreline stretched east and west as far as the eye could see, little jetties of land jutting into the water here and there.
“Bless the gods,” muttered Kenders, her voice full of quiet awe. “Look at that.”
Turning to see what caused his sister’s wonderment, he stared in the direction of her outstretched arm. A mile offshore to the northwest, a massive wave crested on the lake’s otherwise serene surface. Even at this distance, a fine mist, like an early morning spring fog, coated the pair, cooling them from the heat of the day.
With a spike of fear stabbing his chest, Nikalys grabbed Kenders’ arm and opened his mouth, preparing to shout the need to run. The warning never made it past his lips. Something was amiss.
After a moment, he muttered, “It’s not moving.” As high as the tallest trees on shore, Nikalys judged the stationary wave just shy of a hundred feet tall. “Why is it not moving?” Looking at Kenders, he found her with eyebrows together, forehead furrowed like a freshly tilled spring garden, and lips pressed so tight that they were white. “How is it not moving?”
“You know the answer,” whispered Kenders. “We both do.”
A hollow, sick feeling in his stomach swelled, threatening to envelop him. Shaking his head, he said, “No, there must be another reason.”
Loosing a despondent sigh, Kenders said, “Truly? Another reason for that?” She pointed at the wave.
He stared back to the water. The wave was getting bigger, yet implausibly remained in place. The roar he had mistaken as belonging to a waterfall grew louder with each passing moment. “It might not be magic.” Even he heard the wishful tone in his voice.
“Nik,” said Kenders, her tone matter-of-fact. “There’s a wave the size of Yellow Mud out there, sitting on the water. Going nowhere. That crackling straw feeling I described to you? When I’m staring at the wave, I can feel it there. I feel the blueness.”
He opened his mouth to protest again, but she lifted a hand, halting him.
“Don’t, Nik. Just don’t. That’s magic, plain and simple. Which…which makes me a mage.”
He knew Kenders was right. He just did not like what that meant. Letting out a long breath, he muttered, “We can’t tell anyone about this.”
Kenders gave him a tiny, brave smile. “Wasn’t planning on it.”
“I mean it, sis. No one. Not Mother, Father, Jak. Nobody.”
Her small grin faded. With a short nod, she whispered, “I know.”
Under duchy law, Kenders was an outlaw. Should the Constables find her, they would take her, along with anyone who knowingly gave her aid, which meant him, now.
Opening his arms, Nikalys said, “Come here.” She fell toward him and he embraced her, resting his chin on her hair. “This can be another one of our secrets. Just like where Mother’s grape tarts sometimes go when she gets done baking them, right?”
A weak chuckle slipped from her. “You steal them, not me.”
“And you’ve kept my secret,” replied Nikalys. “Let me return the favor.”
Tilting her head back, she muttered, “Thank you.”
Taking a deep breath, he straightened up, stared back to the lake, and said, “So. It’s magic. Now what?”
Kenders shrugged her shoulders. “How should I know?”
Nikalys was about to point out that she was the mage, not him, when the water’s roar surged. The wave changed shape, growing taller and thinner, lending a form that was unnatural yet strangely familiar.
Kenders mused, “What does that look like to you?”
It took him a moment, but he finally recognized the shape at which he was staring. “A person’s chest and arm
s?”
“That’s what I thought,” muttered Kenders.
Soon, the wave creature towered over the tallest trees along the shore. A misshapen, nebulous head sat atop its odd torso and arms. An enormous pyramid of swirling water spread outward at the wave’s waist, stretching over the lake’s surface.
Lifting an arm to point, Kenders whispered, “What’s that? Near the bottom?”
Tearing his eyes from the water creature, Nikalys looked near the wave’s base. There, for the first time, he noticed five figures—nearly obscured by a swirling mist—wearing dark gray robes and lighter gray cloaks. All five stood facing the creature, their backs to Nikalys and Kenders. Nikalys blinked twice, realizing that the figures were standing on the surface of the lake.
The water’s roar ceased in an instant, the unexpected silence startling them both. A sixth figure, wearing crimson robes and a black hooded cloak, appeared from the opposite side of the water creature, also striding on the lake’s surface.
“Six mages,” muttered Kenders. “Why in the Nine Hells are there six mages here?”
Nikalys did not answer, so intrigued he was by the figure in red. Its arms seemed too long for its body, swinging back and forth like reeds in the oscillating waves along the lake’s shore.
“I think that’s an ijul.”
“You’re jesting.”
“Now’s not the time for jesting, sis.”
“An ijul? Here?”
Her surprise was justified. Ijuli were not overly common in the Great Lakes Duchy.
Pointing to the red-robed figure, Nikalys said, “Look at his arms. The way he moves.”
“Perhaps.” She sounded unconvinced.
“And how would you know if it is or not?”
On his annual journeys to Smithshill with his father and Jak, Nikalys had seen a few ijuli. Kenders had never been out of Yellow Mud.
The figure halted before the looming wave creature, reached up to his hood, and slid it back. Bright white-blond hair shone brilliant in the sunlight. Now it was Nikalys’ turn to be doubtful. The ones in Smithshill had darker skin and brown or black hair. Nevertheless, the figure’s long arms and graceful maneuverings were impossible to ignore.
The ijul walked closer to the five gray-clad figures, in the direction of where Nikalys and Kenders stood huddled in the trees. Afraid they might be spotted, Nikalys dipped behind their tree trunk. He felt foolish a moment later when he realized that the forest’s clutter surely hid them from view.
As they watched, the massive water creature began to move over the surface of the lake, slowly at first, but quickly gaining speed.
“Bless the gods,” whispered Kenders.
The creature’s lower half was a mass of tumbling waves, as though a huge storm had churned up whitecaps dozens of times larger than Nikalys had ever seen. Crashing upon the shore, the wave ripped mature oaks from the ground as if they were three-year old saplings. The forest did nothing to slow the wave as it roared south. Water from the lake fed the wave, flooding the land behind it.
Nikalys glanced back to the mages on the surface of the water and was surprised to see more. Four additional gray-cloaked figures had been hidden behind the creature.
Sounding anxious, Kenders asked, “Do you think we’re safe here?”
“Don’t worry,” soothed Nikalys. ”It’s over a mile away.” Shaking his head, he added, “Gods, can you imagine being in front of—”
He cut off, his eyes going wide. Without a word, Kenders turned and began sprinting south through the forest. Nikalys was only a step behind her.
Chapter 3: Home
Thaddeus threw open the front door and began shouting.
“Marie! Where are you?! Marie!”
Like most of the homes in Yellow Mud, the Isaac house had only a few rooms, the center of which was sparsely furnished with some rustic chairs and a single table.
“Thad! I’m out back!”
Rushing across the room, Thaddeus opened the back door and stuck his head outside. Marie was standing with her back toward him, staring northward. Hearing him, she turned.
Marie Isaac was an uncommonly beautiful woman, rivaling women twenty years her junior. Her sleek, black hair was pulled back tight and bound in a ponytail. Her high cheekbones, full lips, and dark brown eyes combined to give the impression of a face permanently frozen in a friendly, mirthful state. Except for now. Now, her eyes were wide and fearful, yet still determined. “What is it, Thad?”
He reached her in a couple of strides, grabbed her arm, and lied. “I don’t know. But it’s big and headed this way. We need to move!”
He had a good idea what was rushing toward their home. Marie probably knew as well, but was hoping she was wrong. Jak’s voice rang out, calling from inside the house. “Father? Mother?!”
“Stay there!” shouted Thaddeus. “We’re coming!” Pulling his wife behind him, Thaddeus rushed back into the house.
Jak stood in the front doorway, a bewildered expression on his face. “Father, what—”
“No time for questions, Jak,” interjected Thaddeus. The approaching roar was steadily increasing. The scent of water hanging in the air was stronger and carried with it a hint of old fish and rotting algae. Locking eyes with his son, he ordered, “Go to the kitchen and get the beltpurse in the larder. Quickly!”
Despite his confusion, Jak obeyed his father’s order and sprinted to his right, heading through one of the two doorways.
“Thaddeus?” muttered Marie. “Are they coming for them? Did they find us?”
Nodding once, Thaddeus said, “I think so.” He gave his wife’s arm a reassuring squeeze. “Wait here.” He released her and moved toward their room. “As soon as I get the bundle Aryn gave us, we’re leaving.”
He held her gaze until he entered their room. Moving to the couple’s straw-mattress bed, he dropped to his knees, lifted the bed, and shoved it against the back wall of the house. He dragged his fingers along the floorboards, searching for the small slit in one of the boards. Digging his thumb into the hole, he pried a long board loose. He winced as a splinter jammed under his fingernail.
Tossing aside the board, he reached into the dirt depression below and grabbed a tightly wrapped leather package. Four feet at its longest point and skinnier than his thigh, the case had a bulge at one end, a tip at the other. Lifting it free, he brushed away the thick layer of dust and dirt that coated it. He had not laid eyes on this for fifteen years.
Gripping the package tightly, he repeated the four words Eliza had told him to use should something like this happen. “Chaos has found us.”
He waited a brief moment, expecting something to happen. Nothing did. At least, nothing that he could sense.
Shaking his head, Thaddeus muttered in disgust, “Blasted magic.” With a burst of energy that he seldom showed any more, he leapt up and returned to the main room. His son and wife were waiting for him. Eyeing Marie, he asked, “Kenders and Nikalys?”
Marie grasped the silver teardrop pendant that had hung from her neck for the past decade and a half. She shut her eyes and opened them a moment later, a tiny smile on her face. “They are unhurt.”
Relieved, Thaddeus nodded. Noticing Jak staring at them both, a question forming on his lips, he shook his head. “No time. I’ll explain as we run.”
“Run?” asked Jak. “Why are we running?”
“Because we must,” said Marie.
“Run where?”
“Away from here,” replied Thaddeus. Turning his head over his shoulder, he stared through the still-open back door. “Away from that.”
He took two steps toward his son, shoved the bundle he had retrieved into Jak’s arms, and said, “Put this on. There are straps that will fit over your arms like a backpack. No matter what happens—no matter what!—keep this bundle close! Do you understand?!” He felt Marie’s eyes on him, but ignored her. Jak was younger. He was quicker. He had a better chance.
Equal parts baffled and worried, Jak took the packa
ge and strapped it to his back.
Thaddeus demanded, “You have the beltpurse?” Jak held up the small leather sack. “Good. Now, move!” Ushering his family out the front door, Thaddeus led them south down the street at a run.
* * *
Zigzagging through the trees, Nikalys overtook his sister and passed her without saying a word. He aimed southwest, back toward the irrigation stream that ran from the lake, through the groves and into town. Bursting from a thicket, Nikalys found himself sloshing through inches of dirty water, yellowed from the soil and spotted with floating leaves and sticks. Still nearly a quarter mile from the stream that would lead them home, he slowed to a walk and looked down to his boots.
“Hells.”
The water was already up to his calves. They were not going to make it this way.
He stopped where he stood and turned around, looking for his sister. Kenders emerged a moment later and stopped short when she saw the water running down the slope. Recognizing the situation in an instant, she looked at him.
“Now what?”
Splashing through the water, he moved back to where his sister stood. “South. We’ll cut over when we get closer.”
Nodding her head in agreement, Kenders started to jog down the hill, breaking into a run after a few steps. Nikalys followed.
* * *
Some people stood motionless, mouths agape, looking northward. Others had dropped whatever they had held and were running south along with Thaddeus and his family. Still others sprinted in the opposite direction, seeking their loved ones. And sealing their fate.
Dashing through the town, the Isaacs were nearing the main street of the village. As Jak was easily outpacing his parents, Thaddeus shouted out an order. “Go right!”
As Jak turned west, he slowed to wait for Thaddeus and Marie and glanced northward. He halted in his tracks, his eyes opening wide.
The fibríaal was moving fast then, faster than Thaddeus had hoped. Twisting to see where Marie was, Thaddeus cursed, “Blast.”
Spry and athletic in her youth, the years had robbed his wife of the speed and stamina necessary to keep up such a frantic pace. Thaddeus silently urged his wife to hurry before he, too, stole a glance to the north. “Bless the gods…”
Progeny (The Children of the White Lions) Page 3