Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Written by A.J. Norfield
Worldmap
Prologue
Chapter 01 - Storm
Chapter 02 - Caves
Chapter 03 - Flee
Chapter 04 - Flight
Chapter 05 - Goat
Chapter 06 - Tal’Kabur
Chapter 07 - Order
Chapter 08 - Maim
Chapter 09 - Resistance
Chapter 10 - Despair
Chapter 11 - Drink
Chapter 12 - Offer
Chapter 13 - Collection
Chapter 14 - Wave
Chapter 15 - Devastation
Chapter 16 - Sand
Chapter 17 - Thirst
Chapter 18 - Ruins
Chapter 19 - Scarred
Chapter 20 - Sha’cara
Chapter 21 - Bitten
Chapter 22 - Welcome
Chapter 23 - Slumber
Chapter 24 - Garden
Chapter 25 - Assassin
Chapter 26 - Bonding
Chapter 27 - Lights
Chapter 28 - Betrayal
About the Author
Wavebreaker
Book II of the Stone War Chronicles Part 1 - Trickle
A.J. Norfield
Copyright © 2018 A.J. Norfield
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or electronic—without written permission of both publisher and author, except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Cover art © 2018 A.J. Norfield
Photo by Zach Dischner
Edited by Laura M. Hughes
ISBN: 978-90-824945-5-6 (kindle)
ISBN: 978-90-824945-4-9 (epub)
ISBN: 978-90-824945-3-2 (sc)
To those who shape us, for better or for worse.
Mom, Dad, thank you for a great childhood and for allowing me to grow up chasing my dreams.
BY A.J. NORFIELD
Stone War Chronicles
Windcatcher
Wavebreaker Part 1 – Trickle
Other
Revolt of Blood and Stone
(A Stone War Chronicles Novella, Sebastian #1)
Prologue
Decan inched forward. He carefully placed his toe to the ground and eased his weight onto it. The sand crunched beneath his bare foot.
Movement!
He froze, his legs trembling from the tension in his muscles. Sweat dripped from his face in concentration.
He had planned this for days; covered all possible scenarios; gone over all the different escape routes. If he did not make his move now, who knew when he would have another opportunity?
He pushed all doubt from his mind and leaped through the air. He stretched his arms forward, spreading his fingers as wide as he could. As his shadow flew across the sand, the small bearded lizard jerked its head around and shot off toward the shrubbery.
Barely missing his pet-to-be, Decan’s hands caught nothing but sand. He scrambled after the little reptile as it dashed across the dune behind their house. The wooden planks he had put in its path narrowed toward the end, leading the critter straight to the bucket.
Just a little bit further!
The small lizard hit the plank and continued running along it. Decan kicked up a wave of sand, urging the frightened animal to stay on course.
It’s going to work! thought Decan, his excitement peaking in the heat of the chase.
The lizard’s small, beady eyes saw the bucket’s dark hole looming ahead. Its head jerked sideways as it spotted a sparkle of light. Its tiny claws pushed off as if its life depended on it. The lizard jammed its head between the side of the bucket and a plank, and frantically wriggled through the loose sand.
“No!” shouted Decan.
It was too late. His prey was gone. Or was it?
Arriving at the bucket, Decan saw the lizard run along the back of the plank toward the tall, dry grass. Fully intending to jump over the obstacles in front of him, Decan pushed off, only to feel the loose sand give way. His foot caught on the edge of the bucket and he tumbled forward, flat on his face. His mouth—open in surprise at the bucket’s devious betrayal—took a big bite of crunchy sand.
Jumping back to his feet, Decan spat out the sand and dusted off his clothes. He looked around. The lizard was nowhere to be seen. His plan had failed.
He picked up the bucket and stomped back toward the house, going over the details of what happened and the flaws he had discovered. He kicked a small, innocent stone out of the way, then narrowed his eyes as he watched it skid along the ground.
Perhaps if I add some rocks…
When he reached the house, his mother was cleaning the day’s catch under their extended roof.
“Did you catch it?” asked his mother as he walked into the kitchen area.
A strong gust of wind made their wooden home creak. It was not much to look at from the outside, but inside was cozy, and it was enough to shield them from the elements. This far south, keeping warm was never really a problem, but the ocean winds could blow a mean blast of sand on certain days.
“No…it got away right at the end.”
He wiped his mouth with his sleeve in an attempt to get the last of the sand out.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll catch one next time,” she said with a soft smile. “Now, why don’t you come over here and wash that sand away…then you can help me prepare supper.”
Decan let out a groan.
“Do I have to?” he asked. “I still need to find some rocks near the cliffs for tomorrow…”
“In that case, you can look for your sister while you’re at it.”
Decan’s father exited the house. From the smell of it, he had been prepping the central stove for dinner. “I haven’t seen her all day after she stormed out this morning, and it’s getting late.”
Decan’s mother rested her hands on the wooden counter. Fish guts dangled from the thin knife in her hand. Her stern expression softened as she looked at both men, and she let out a sigh.
“Fine. You can’t sit still for long, anyway.”
“Must be all that ancestral nomadic blood running through our veins,” said his father with a wink at Decan.
“Well, I blame you for that,” teased his mother. “My family has always been more than content with working the land. Oh, how my mother warned me not to fall in love with a fisher.”
His father laughed.
“Can’t be helped…my charm is great.”
Decan’s father gave his mother a quick hug.
“Just be thankful we’re not moving from island to island or along the coast anymore, following the migrating fish and sea mammals like our ancestors did. Nowadays, the only thing that truly makes us waterclan is the fact that we’re ocean born.”
“Oh, I remember. Trust me,” said his mother.
She walked over to her son and took the bucket from his hands.
“The swell of the waves was nearly seven feet when you were born,” she said. She smiled at Decan, tapping the tip of his nose with her finger. “I can still see the restlessness of that day in you.”
She walked back, rinsed the bucket and shoved all the guts and scales into it.
“As true as the ocean’s blue. I thanked the goddess that night for keeping you both safe,” sai
d his father. “Now, enough chatting. Go and find your sister.”
“Yes, father!”
Decan turned around and ran off—anything was better than cleaning fish.
Since their father was one of the clan that still fished, their house lay on the outskirts of town, close to the ocean and their father’s fishing boat. What they caught and did not use, they traded with others from the clan who instead specialized in working the land.
Decan loved it. He spent days roaming the beach and island. He was still too young to actively help with the more serious labor during the day. Besides, their father was usually out on the water way before dawn and done with most of his fishing by the time Decan and his sister woke up.
That would all soon change. When he turned fourteen, his father expected Decan to join him on the boat and start his training as a fisherman. He looked forward to spending more time with his father, but he was still not sure if fishing was what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. He would rather visit the mainland, get off the island, and see the world. Perhaps live as a hunter—or a merchant, even.
Decan circled the house and took off toward the sea. His sister would surely be somewhere down at the cliffs; she always went there to blow off steam. He had followed her a couple of times, whenever she had stomped out of the house. Their family was tight, but father and daughter did not always see eye to eye.
Their relationship had improved over the last few years as Trista moved out of her teens, but this morning they’d had a huge falling-out. Decan did not really know what happened, but he had heard his sister shout something about a stupid boy. Their mother had tried to calm things down, but in the end his sister ran out of the house and disappeared for the rest of the day.
Decan turned to his right before he reached the beach and headed up the path that led to the cliffs. If she was on the beach, he could spot her from the top. If not, he would continue south along the cliffs to check her usual spot.
People always thought his sister was a bit strange. Decan never thought so; she was just his big sister. She was almost eight years older, but that never stopped them from being close friends. She loved nature. As a natural hunter, his sister excelled in spearfishing, and had since she was young. Decan once asked how she was able to catch fish so well, but the only answer he had gotten was that she felt the water.
The reason most waterclan found her strange was because she did not look like any of them. Most of the clan had darker eyes and hair—black, brown, dark blond—but his sister was different. Her hair was a deep red, which looked almost like fire when the sunlight hit it just right. Her green eyes were a fierce contrast with her hair and made her stand out in any crowd on the island. Mother and Father always said they had no idea how it happened, but some people told stories. The most common rumor was that Trista was a child of the sun god.
The waterclans worshipped the goddess of the sea. The goddess kept them safe and provided the people with plentiful food from the ocean—but only those who lived in balance with her oceans. She would not hesitate to claim the lives of those out to ruin the balance of her domain.
Their stories told that the sun god was in love with the water goddess. He traveled the skies to follow the goddess of the sea, whispering sweet promises of his love. At the end of each day he would seduce her, try to lure her to leave her lively oceans and follow him up into the sky, but each night the sun god failed, for the water goddess was far too wise to fall for any of his tricks.
Decan had never heard it directly, but he once overheard his mother and father arguing about it. People claimed his mother had been visited by the sun god at night. The sun god, angry at the water goddess’ unwillingness to follow him, had bed a member of the waterclan out of spite. His sister was the result of that night.
His father had never doubted their mother, but that night they argued because his father had apparently punched a man in the face after hearing remarks about the sun god throughout the evening. His mother told his father to just ignore it. It did not matter what everyone else thought. The only thing that mattered was their family. How they loved each other and took care of each other—and that’s what they did.
Decan never believed any of those stories, but agreed his sister was not like anyone else. The boys had always flocked around her. She might not be the prettiest girl on the island, but had certainly received enough of their mother’s looks to turn some heads. But when Decan saw his sister and a boy together, it was like she was never really interested in any of them. Or, at least, not for long.
Some of his friends had overheard the grown-ups talk about her; how, within the waterclan, where the women were plenty accustomed to hard work, his sister was so very tough for a woman. But while it was true that she was quite lean and muscled from her days of spear hunting and swimming, Decan never really saw her as unusual. She was what she was.
When they explored the island together, she would show him the many secrets it held. Hidden warm water pools, how to catch crabs during the low tide, where to find nests with freshly-hatched furry birds chirping for food. She always managed to show him something new, and Decan had learned a lot from her. One of the more important lessons he observed was that despite their dependence on the animal kingdom for food, his sister always handled any creature with care and respect—even the fish she caught and ate. She took the lessons of the goddess to heart…even if she did not always listen to their parents.
He smirked. Then again, neither did he.
Decan panted as he made his way up the path. He had just halted to catch his breath when a tremor shook the earth. It started as a low, rumbling vibration, but soon swelled into a heavy shaking of the ground. He quickly lay flat on his stomach like his sister had taught him, and kept an eye out for falling rocks. When these quakes had started last summer, they had frightened him, but now they came so often that his reaction was instinctive. The most important thing was to stay away from the precarious rocks and steep cliff sides; apart from that, you just had to wait for it to stop.
When the tremor passed, he got back to his feet and ran across the last part of the path onto the cliff. He reached the top, expecting to see the eternal movement of waves rolling calmly onto the sand while the clouds drifted peacefully by in the sky. He hoped he could spot his sister trailing the coastline, like he had seen her do many times before. But as he arrived at the top of the cliff, his jaw dropped at the scene in front of him. He rubbed his eyes and pinched himself to make sure he was not dreaming.
With the setting sun on his back, the endless ocean indeed stretched out in front of him, but he did not see the calm waves of a summer’s day. Instead, Decan saw rough water, with a storm brewing on the horizon…and dozens of ships from the north on a direct course to the island. As far as his eyes could see, the unfamiliar ships were spread out across the ocean. Their hulls and sails were colored black. They rode the strong winds with sails fully raised, approaching the island’s beaches at high speed. Shapes walked the deck of the closest ship, but they were still too far for Decan to see much detail.
The sheer number of ships was overwhelming, but that was not the reason Decan stopped dead in his tracks in disbelief. It was the fact that, above those sailing ships, a dozen other vessels were floating in the sky. Each one had sails on the side and a strange contraption above the deck. It looked like a giant inflated shar’ac—the ferocious flesh-eating fish. The ships slid through the air, just passing the outer reefs; it would not be long before the first ones reached land.
Decan stared at the scene. Those ships were not right. Whatever it was that came toward him sent fear creeping over him. Forgetting all about his sister, he turned around and sprinted down the path as fast as his legs could carry him.
“Father! Father!” shouted Decan, out of breath as he came running back around the corner of their house.
“What is it? Is something wrong with your sister?”
The sound of panic in Decan’s voice made his father hurry out of th
e house.
“Ships, father. The dead are rising from the deep. There’s so many of them and—and some are flying! In the air! They’re flying, father!” rambled Decan, so fast that his father could barely understand him.
“Hold on. Slow down! What do you mean, ‘flying’? What ships?” the man questioned his son. “Wait…did your sister put you up to this?”
“No, really, father! Go see for yourself! They’re at the beach…coming right at us.”
Decan’s father saw the mix of disbelief and fear in his son’s eyes. The man grabbed his harpoon spear just as a shadow passed over the house. Son and father looked up; the ship creaked and groaned as it passed overhead and moved in the direction of their little town’s center. Another one to the left crossed the cliffs and dunes, as a third and fourth came in from the right.
Shouts of alarm sounded from the people in the town. Decan’s mother came outside to see what all the commotion was about, and stopped on the veranda, clutching the door.
“What do you think they want, father?” said Decan.
“Stay with your mother, Decan,” was the only reply his father gave before he ran down the path to keep the flying ships in view.
In the distance, round bags were dropped from the ships’ sides. Decan’s father was halfway to the town’s center when one of the ships threw out a small, flaming barrel. As soon as it hit the ground, a pillar of flames erupted and instantly set fire to three fishermen who had the misfortune of being near the explosion. The two nearest houses on the street also caught fire as people screamed out in terror. Men and women shot away in all directions. Panic and chaos swept through the streets as crossbow bolts rained down from above.
Holding on to his mother, Decan saw his father rush back toward them.
“Merryl! We need to go! Now! Leave everything and head for the caves! Go! Go!”
Decan’s eyes filled with tears. What was going on? Why was this happening?
“Triss! I haven’t found Triss yet!” he screamed as his mother dragged him, spurring him to run as fast as he could.
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