Stormspeaker

by Christina Diaz Gonzalez

  Rollan was right. As Conor hiked higher up the mountain, the fog began to thin out. A few minutes later, he pulled himself over the top of a ridge and saw the flat vastness of the plateau. Stretching out in every direction was an almost barren landscape, punctuated with a few trees that seemed to rise out of the rocks. Conor tilted his head skyward to admire the streaks of purples, pinks, and oranges that the setting sun was creating.

  “Look at this!” Anka called out, standing near the eastern edge of the plateau. “I think we’re definitely in the right place!”

  Conor and the others raced over and saw what she meant. There was a sharp drop-off that disappeared into the blanket of clouds, which covered everything up to the horizon. Without mountains to obstruct the view, it seemed as if they were floating above the world.

  “It’s like Tembo said,” Conor whispered. “We’re standing on the edge of the land, above the clouds.” The beauty of the scene awed hm.

  “Want to spread out while we still have a little bit of light?” Meilin asked, breaking the mood. “We can cover more area that way, and see if the ‘queen’s glory’ is somehow revealed.”

  “Wait … look.” Abeke pointed to Uraza and Briggan, who were both headed in the same direction. In the distance, Essix was flying in tight circles over one spot.

  “There must be something over there,” Rollan said. “Let’s go.”

  The five Greencloaks took off running. Up ahead, Uraza and Briggan were now in a full sprint. They were in a race against time. The sun had already dipped below the horizon, and a cloud-filled night meant there would be little moonlight to help them find the crown.

  Abeke had dashed ahead when she suddenly stopped, whirled around, and motioned for them all to get down. Conor crouched close to the ground, squinting into the distance at what looked like a small stone building near the far edge of the plateau.

  “What do you think that is?” Anka asked.

  “Some sort of lookout maybe … ” Meilin took a few steps forward, keeping low to the ground.

  High above, Essix squawked. She then swooped down, disappearing through one of the building’s broken windows.

  Conor held his breath until the falcon popped out of another window, going back to circling the building.

  “Looks like it’s empty,” Rollan said. “Essix would have warned us if someone was there.”

  Abeke straightened up. “Then let’s go quickly, before we lose the last bits of daylight.”

  Leaving Uraza and Briggan outside as guards, the Greencloaks entered the small stone building. Inside, Conor noticed several half-spent candles littering the floor. A wooden table had been flipped over and chairs were tossed against a far wall. A thick layer of dust and dirt covered everything.

  “Who has the matches?” Rollan asked, picking up one of the candles.

  “Here.” Conor had already lit a candle and carried it over.

  “This place looks like it was ransacked ages ago,” Meilin remarked, while she and Abeke righted the table. “I doubt anything like a crown was left behind.”

  “If it was hidden like the Heart of the Land and the Wildcat’s Claw were, then … ” Rollan ran his fingers along the wall, searching for a lever or notch that might reveal a secret compartment. “Maybe whoever was here before couldn’t find it.”

  “Well, we’re definitely in the right place.” Abeke took one of the lit candles and walked to a corner alcove. She illuminated a statue carved into one of the stone walls, of a woman with her hands cupped in front of her. “I’m pretty sure this is supposed to be Nefrini.” Abeke looked around at the sparseness of the building. “I think this might be more of a shrine than a lookout post.”

  Conor brought his own candle and added to the light in the alcove. He blew some of the dust off the wall beneath the statue, where something had been etched into the stone. “There’s writing here.”

  Meilin and Rollan walked over and the alcove flickered with the lights of the candles. The shadows cast by the Greencloaks danced across the stones. Conor used the bottom of his shirt to wipe more of the dust off the carving.

  Anka read it out loud. “The storm’s wrath has no mercy until hands drip with the blood of demons and ancestors.”

  “Whoa,” Rollan muttered, stepping back. “Hands dripping with the blood of demons and ancestors … Even knowing it means tree sap, that really does not sound good. If you ask me, I think Tembo had a little too much flair for the dramatic.”

  Abeke reached up and wiped the dust off the statue. “Maybe it has nothing to do with Stormspeaker.”

  “Right.” Conor rolled his eyes. “It’s just a warm and fuzzy bedtime story.” Everyone turned and stared at him. “Sorry … guess I’m just a little tired.” He walked to the window and gazed into the pitch-black night. There was no glass in the window frame and a soft breeze swept over his head, rustling his hair into his face. He brushed it away, his fingers lingering over the mark on his forehead. He couldn’t help thinking about what Naveb had said … that the Wyrm had changed him … set him apart from the others, making him see things differently than they did.

  Perhaps he should be thinking about their mission in a different way. Would devoting himself to fixing the things in Eura that the Greencloaks had destroyed while under the Wyrm’s control be such a bad thing?

  Conor glanced behind him at the others, still scanning the stone building for clues. He shook his head, dispensing with his own question. No, he loved his homeland, but the Greencloaks served everyone equally. And he couldn’t imagine fighting against any of his friends.

  Abeke, Meilin, and Rollan … each of them was so different from Conor, and from each other. They were from far-flung corners of Erdas, but the Greencloaks had brought them together to help. They had to regain the Greencloaks’ good name, to show the world that it was possible for every nation to unite under a common banner.

  He placed his hands on the windowsill, leaned forward, and took a deep breath.

  CLICK!

  The frame dropped about an inch and Conor jumped back. He heard a rumbling from outside and the building began to shake. Something had been triggered.

  “What did you do?” Meilin’s eyes darted around the room as the candles on the table began to wobble.

  “Nothing!” Conor rushed over and picked up a candle before it toppled over. “I leaned against the windowsill and something clicked.”

  The soft breeze blew stronger. With every passing second it picked up more dust, sand, and dirt. Suddenly, a burst of air shot through the building, blowing out all the candles.

  “I think it’s a sandstorm!” Abeke shouted over the high, whistling wind that was now engulfing them.

  “Or a tornado!” Rollan bellowed as the chairs tumbled against the far wall. “Get away from the windows.”

  Conor flung the door open and stepped outside. “BRIGGAN!” he yelled, holding out his arm as a driving rain—a downpour that hadn’t been there seconds before—battered his skin. The storm was fiercer than any he had ever seen. He leaned into the wind to keep his balance and yelled again. “BRIGGAN!”

  Lightning flashed overhead, and in that instant he saw both Briggan and Uraza trying to make their way toward him. Uraza was crouched low to the ground, crawling toward the building, but Briggan was stumbling and losing his footing. A storm that could stop the Great Beasts was not an ordinary storm.

  “URAZA!” Abeke shouted, bracing herself in the doorway only a few feet behind Conor.

  “HERE!” Conor shouted. It was a struggle just to be heard over the deafening roar that surrounded them. Another thunderbolt rocked the sky above as Briggan disappeared in a flash of his own and joined Conor as a tattoo on the back of his forearm.

  A sudden gust of wind pulled the front door off its hinges, yanking Abeke from her feet and sending her tumbling to the ground. The door sailed into the night sky like a child’s kite freed of its string.

  “I’m fine!” Abeke called out. She braced against the storm as she s
tood and checked under her elbow for Uraza’s tattoo.

  Another lightning strike lit up the sky. Conor could see blood pouring out of a large gash over Abeke’s right eye.

  “You’re bleeding!” Conor shouted as Abeke wiped her face.

  “Get inside!” Rollan yelled, standing just inside the doorway. “None of this is normal!”

  More lightning flashes followed as Conor and Abeke ran into the building, where Meilin had created a sort of barricade with the table backed into a corner.

  “What do you mean by not normal?” Conor shouted over the fury of the wind and the hail that was now pelting the roof.

  “All of this!” Anka yelled as they all huddled under the table. “It’s like every storm’s wrath put together!”

  “No mercy from the storm’s wrath.… ” Abeke crawled out from the barricade. “It’s the statue!” she proclaimed. “The key to stopping the storm is there!” From her pocket she pulled out the vial of demon tree sap that Jehan had given her. “It wants this … and my blood!”

  THE HOWLING WIND WHIPPED AROUND THE ROOM AS the roof began to buckle and lift. Abeke’s idea had to work. They wouldn’t be able to survive the storm’s onslaught much longer … especially if they became fully exposed to the elements outside.

  Abeke faced the statue of Nefrini, the wind slapping her braids against her cheeks as she opened the glass vial. She tipped it over and let a few drops of the demon tree sap fall into the statue’s cupped hands.

  A ripping and cracking sound echoed as the roof began to break apart, creating a gaping hole in the ceiling. Fist-sized hail rained down into the room and lightning crackled in the dark sky above.

  Abeke touched the cut over her eye, smearing her fingertips until they were wet. “My blood is the blood of Nilo!” she shouted into the wind. “The blood of our ancestors!” She smeared her hands against those of the statue, letting the demon tree sap mix with her own blood.

  The battering hailstorm suddenly stopped and the wind reduced its intensity, becoming little more than a strong breeze. There was one more flash of lightning, but with it the driving rain turned into a shower, then a trickle, until it stopped completely. The building rattled a few more times as the roof and walls adjusted to the sudden calm. A thick fog like the one they’d climbed through to reach the top of the plateau filtered in through the windows and torn roof.

  “You did it!” Conor exclaimed. He pushed the table out of the way and picked up a battered candle from the floor.

  “Do you think a spirit is going to speak to us again?” Meilin rolled her hand through the air, creating rivulets within the mist.

  Rollan raised a candle he had lit and brought it over to Conor. “I think we’re about to find out.” He pointed to the concentration of fog swirling around Abeke.

  Abeke spun around as the cloud of mist surrounding her slithered away and took the shape of a woman.

  “Is that who we think it is?” Conor asked.

  Abeke said nothing. If this was Nefrini, then she deserved reverence. Speaking out of turn would not be wise. Plus, if their prior experiences with the bond tokens were any indication, then only those born on the continent would be able to communicate with the spirit. That meant only she would be able to hear Nefrini’s words.

  “Is she saying anything?” Rollan asked.

  Abeke put a finger to her lips.

  “Maybe you should introduce yourself,” Meilin suggested.

  Abeke shook her head. Instead, she took a seat on the floor. A hunter had to be patient sometimes.

  A minute passed, then two.

  As the others lit more candles, creating a warm glow within the room, the fog congealed even more, revealing the woman’s regal stature and kind face. There was no doubt this was Nefrini, and she was gazing down at Abeke.

  Daughter of Nilo. Nefrini had a soft, gentle voice that bounced around inside Abeke’s head. You have stirred my slumber. What is it that you seek?

  Abeke glanced over at her friends, who were oblivious to what was being said. Nefrini was speaking only to her.

  “High Chieftess Nefrini, we are here for Stormspeaker.”

  Of course you are. But why should it be entrusted to you? You are children. What have you done to deserve it?

  “My friends and I, we are Greencloaks and have saved Erdas twice. But our existence as a group is being threatened. We must show that through our unity we can best serve everyone. Long ago, your bond token was given to us as a symbol of this unity, along with three others from across Erdas. The Greencloaks hid the tokens, wary of their power being misused, but present circumstances require us to retrieve all four.”

  I see. Nefrini floated past Abeke and paused in front of the other Greencloaks before returning to Abeke. Bond tokens reflect the epitome of trust. Do you believe that these allies of yours are honest and true?

  “I do,” Abeke answered without hesitation.

  And do they feel the same about you? Nefrini asked.

  Abeke turned to her friends. “She wants to know if you trust me to be honest and true.”

  “Yes!” they all proclaimed in unison.

  Nefrini nodded in approval. Then a curl of mist flowed out from the spirit, wrapping itself around Abeke’s wrist. Not of her own volition, Abeke felt herself flipping over her arm to reveal the leopard tattoo.

  Your spirit animal is Uraza, Nefrini observed, letting go of Abeke’s arm. The Great Beast chose you as her human partner.… That is very telling.

  Abeke remained quiet.

  I, too, had an incredible bond with my spirit animal, she mused. Nazir, my hammerkop, was with me when I lost my mother and when my son was born. She gave me a perspective on life like no one else. We were inseparable.

  Abeke glanced at her tattoo. She wanted to think that way about her bond with Uraza, but Zerif had separated them for a while and pitted the two against each other. The pain of that time was still a thorn in Abeke’s heart.

  Nefrini bent down to get a closer look at Abeke. I can tell that you are a hunter by nature, but I also sense the power of the Rain Dancer flowing through your bond. The Rain Dancer tradition was our gift to Nilo. I’m pleased to see it survives.

  “You were a Rain Dancer?” Abeke asked.

  Nefrini nodded. The first. Though truly it was Nazir’s craft. And when we created our token, we gave a bit of that power to the land of Nilo itself. Bonds formed here are special. Some are touched by my old friend’s gift. In that way, she lives forever.

  Nefrini paused, studying Abeke for a moment. In life, as with a hunt, you must always perceive what surrounds you. In front, beside, and behind.

  Abeke nodded in agreement. It was similar to what Naveb had told her.

  Prepare for the future by observing the present and understanding the past. She turned without warning and pointed both fog-filled arms toward the statue. Her fingertips emanated a brilliant blue light.

  “What is she—?” Abeke heard Conor begin to ask, when a single lightning bolt shot out from Nefrini’s hands, hitting the statue and shattering it into dozens of pieces that went flying across the room.

  “Whoa!” Meilin exclaimed as the Greencloaks all jumped against the wall.

  Go to where the statue was, Nefrini instructed. My crown is yours to use.

  Abeke quickly stepped over the broken pieces of stone strewn along the floor. Pressed against the wall was a simple gold headdress with wings on either side. A bird holding a green gem. Abeke chiseled the crown out with her fingertips.

  “Stormspeaker,” Abeke whispered, the crown glimmering in the candlelight. “Thank you.”

  “She’s disappearing!” Rollan called out.

  Abeke turned back to Nefrini. The chieftess had begun to fade, the fog dispersing into the atmosphere.

  “Your Highness … please wait!” Abeke called out. “I have questions.”

  I’m sure you do, daughter of Nilo. Questions are good, and you should always seek answers. But I’m afraid my time here is over, Nefrini exp
lained.

  “But the crown … what does it do?” Abeke said, holding the golden diadem in her hand. “How do I use it?”

  You have already witnessed its power. Use it wisely. But you must be careful, there is—

  “Ask her where the Dragon’s Eye is!” Anka said, interrupting Nefrini. “She has to tell us before she goes!”

  Abeke noticed the last traces of fog shift to look at Anka. Although there wasn’t much definition of Nefrini left in the mist, Abeke thought she saw the woman scowl.

  Then she was gone. A gentle breeze once again reclaimed the air, and everything was silent for a few seconds.

  “So?” Rollan asked. “What did she say? Did she tell you how to use it? How about where the Dragon’s Eye is hidden?”

  “There wasn’t time,” Abeke said with a sigh. “We’ll have to go back to the monastery and just hope that Tembo left another clue there.” Abeke inspected the gold crown in her hand, turning it slowly to see every side. “I think it controls the weather.… That’s why it’s called Stormspeaker.”

  “You’re still bleeding,” Meilin said, drawing closer to Abeke and looking at the gash over her eye. “I can ask Jhi to help you.”

  Abeke sat down. Her head was beginning to throb, although she wasn’t sure if it was from the blow or from having Nefrini speak through her thoughts.

  Jhi appeared in the room and immediately approached Abeke. The large panda pulled Abeke into a cradling embrace and gave her two quick licks over her eye.

  “Panda spit works every time,” Rollan said with a smile.

  “We should stay the night here and get some rest.” Conor unpacked his bag and laid out several items on the table. “In the morning, we can head back to the monastery.”

  “What if the Oathbound are still there?” Abeke asked, keeping the cut eye closed as Jhi stroked her head with her soft, furry paw.

  “They’ve likely moved on by now,” Anka said. “The Oathbound probably left and formed search parties to look for us.”

  Abeke glanced at Anka. Her clothes and skin had blended into the floor, but Abeke could see her shadow curled up like a cat in the corner of the room. Her thoughts went to Uraza.