Journey of Fire and Night (The Endless War Book 1)

by D. K. Holmberg

  If not for her desperation, she wouldn’t risk following him. The person could be a shaper of Ter or only her imagination.

  Then she stumbled and fell. She didn’t bother standing. A part of her hoped the shadow man would come to help and maybe bring water, or safety, but no one came.

  She drifted, her mind wandering.

  A clicking came from in front of her, but she didn’t look up. What did it matter, especially if she were to die now?

  Fears rolled through her mind. They were the same concerns she’d had since starting down from the rock, and even before that, when she’d sent Fas back across the sand. Traveling alone could have been a death sentence for him. At least she had the possibility of finding water, though it now seemed remote. Fas had to risk the deadly crossing, one that the two of them had barely survived, and that was with skins full of water. She’d sent him with only half a waterskin, and sick on top of it.

  Had Fas even made it back to the village? If he hadn’t, would the village risk the crossing, coming with chemel and wagons and children and the elders, all thinking Ciara had found a way for them to survive? Or would they have gone elsewhere, turned to the north, abandoning her attempt at crossing? Her father would be able to sense water; maybe he had found another source for the village.

  The clicking came again, followed by a soft sound, almost a shuffling. It reminded her of when she was young and the sound her elouf made as she dragged herself up the points, climbing toward the top of the towers. Always Ciara had to climb, never willing to listen to boys like Fas or Eshan or Jorge, who wanted to tell her that she would never be strong enough, never be fast enough.

  Her father encouraged her, telling her that she could climb as well as anyone and that she needed to reach the top because the secrets of the Stormbringer could be found there. It had taken Ciara years before she finally managed to reach the halfway point the first time, and years more until she was strong enough to climb nearly to the top. Even now, she wasn’t strong enough. Fas had helped her. Without him to pull her to the top of the rock, she would have fallen, much as she had this time. At least no one was here to have seen it.

  The clicking sound came again. This time it was closer. If she only opened her eyes, she could see what approached. Maybe it was the shadowy figure, finally coming near enough to help. Or maybe it was nothing more than another lizard, this time intent on devouring her.

  The air began to cool, gusts coming out of the north mixing with those from the south, creating a soft eddy around her, pulling on her elouf and tugging at her hair. It blew into her face, but that was better than the feeling of the sand in her mouth or the taste of her shaisa veil still fouled with her blood. The blood reminded her too much of her mother, the way her eyes had glazed, the glassy expression that she’d worn, only her lips and mouth moving after the attack. The darkness had been both a blessing and damnation. She still cursed the night the attack had come, the village ill-equipped to fight.

  The shapers had the advantage, calling light with their magic, bringing blinding daylight even in the night. For all she knew, they could even see in the dark. Ciara wasn’t a skilled healer, but she didn’t need to be to know that her mother wouldn’t survive, not with the way her skull caved in, regardless of how much her father tried to heal her. There wasn’t enough water in the village for him to save her, and even if there were, she doubted he would have tried. Doing so would have killed so many more for the sake of one. Yet why had he been so willing with Fas? Healing Fas would have cost nearly as much, and there hadn’t been nearly as much water in the village as when her mother had died. Was it because Fas was a water shaper and her mother was not? That hurt if true.

  The clicking came louder, closer, almost as if upon her.

  Ciara blinked her eyes. Her mind was wandering, and it almost seemed that the clicking was intended to clear it for her. Darkness flowed around her, but it wasn’t a pure darkness like she so often saw at night in Rens. There was a haze, almost a soft glowing light, that radiated up from the ground. She saw it on herself as well, on exposed arms and legs, but not on her elouf.

  She let her eyes close again. Whatever she saw wasn’t real. This was her mind, dying and trying to give her meaning. What did it say about her that she saw light when she was dying? Had she feared the darkness so much that she feared it even now? Or did the Stormbringer truly call her? Maybe the light was meant to draw her to him, guiding her on this last part of her journey.

  The clicking came again. Once. Twice. And then faded.

  Ciara opened her eyes. Had the Stormbringer given up on her?

  A thick, greenish plant was in front of her legs. Had it moved there on its own? Thinking that told her that she truly was imagining things. No, it hadn’t been there before. She was sure of that. Maybe it wasn’t real.

  She picked it up. The surface was cool and smooth, nothing like the spiked plants she found in most parts of the waste. This wasn’t so much a plant as some sort of gourd, but like none she’d ever seen. And it felt real enough.

  Ciara touched it to the side of her head, enjoying the coolness. She rocked from side to side, holding it like the reed doll her mother had once made for her, clutching it to her. Unlike the reed doll, the gourd shifted.

  Her heart fluttered. Why would it shift?

  Unless there was water inside.

  It was too much to hope for, but she would try. She reached for her knife, but she’d lost it somewhere along the way. The j’na rested next to her, as if the blunt staff would do her better than her knife, but she didn’t want to risk breaking the gourd open and losing whatever water might be inside.

  She shifted and felt the melted draasin glass press against her back. Would that be sharp enough to pierce the gourd?

  Moving carefully, she pressed the tip into the elongated top of the gourd. Ciara expected resistance, but it slid in easily. After pulling the glass away, she tipped the gourd to her lips. She expected a drop or two and prayed for enough for a mouthful, but what sort of plant stores that much water?

  Water filled her mouth and dribbled around her chin.

  Ciara swallowed hungrily, cupping her hand beneath her chin to keep from losing any more water. Then she lifted the gourd to her mouth again and took another drink. The water was cool and tasted thick, as if it had been soaked in weeds for days, but it was water.

  When the gourd was empty—and she licked everything from it that she could—she lay back. Drinking might have only prolonged her suffering, and she had no idea how the gourd had appeared in front of her, but she would enjoy the relief for now.

  The wind blew around her, and she felt her heart fluttering, sensing it for the first time for… hours? Days? She was reassured by the sensation, and drifted to sleep.

  When she awoke, the sun was beginning to creep up along the horizon. Ciara’s mind was clearer than it had been in a while, and she felt as if she might be able to walk. She needed to find water. If she couldn’t, there would be no point in making it another day.

  Sitting up, she found herself surrounded by a circle of the same green-skinned gourds.

  Ciara’s heart hammered in her chest. Stormbringer, what had happened?

  As she tried to figure out how the gourds had appeared, she grabbed one and punctured the skin with the draasin glass, then drank carefully. The water tasted even better in the morning, cool from sitting out in the night. There might be enough water in the gourds around her to make it back to the village.

  Maybe the figure she had seen had crept close enough to help. If so, she needed to find him and thank him. Then she needed to learn where to find more of the gourds so that she could bring word to the village.

  She rose to her knees and pulled the gourds to her, piling them as she counted. Nearly two dozen in all. Enough water to certainly make it back to the village, especially since each gourd held nearly as much water as a quarter of a waterskin, maybe more.

  A rough sense touched her exposed leg and she spun.


  The lizard sat near her feet, looking up at her with wide eyes. It worked its tongue across its lips and sat back on its legs.

  She glanced from the gourds to the lizard. Had she been wrong? Had it not been the shadow man?

  “Did you bring these to me?” Ciara spoke before she realized she was talking to a lizard.

  Maybe she wasn’t as recovered as she thought. Her head throbbed and lights still seemed to pulse around the edge of her vision, swirls of color she doubted were real. Pain streaked down her back, and her arms and legs itched where the lizard crust coated her. Strangely, it had probably protected her, keeping her from getting burned in the harsh sun. As terrible as she felt, with each moment, the water helped. Her stomach rumbled, but her mind no longer wandered as it had. She needed food—and maybe she could eat these gourds—and possibly a little more water. In time, she would be able to walk again.

  The lizard blinked, then started past her, moving to the east.

  Ciara pulled the gourds around her and pierced another, taking a long drink from the top of it. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she felt free to drink as much as she wanted. Even were she to drink from half the gourds, there would be more remaining than she could carry.

  After going through the fourth gourd, she decided to stop.

  She needed to bring them with her, but how would she carry them? They weren’t heavy, but were large enough to make porting even two difficult. She was staring at the ground, her mind still feeling somewhat in a fog, as she tried to think of some way she could wrap them up… when she laughed aloud again.

  Maybe she was water mad. First she talked to lizards, then she saw shapes and movement when there probably were none, and now she was laughing to herself. The next thing she knew, she’d be running naked across the rock. If she did run naked, she could use her elouf to carry the gourds.

  Ciara laughed again. Using the draasin glass, she cut a section of her elouf, making certain that she was still covered so the sun didn’t burn her too easily but cutting a wide enough swath of fabric that she could set the gourds onto. She tied the ends together and pulled it tight.

  How to carry it?

  She looked around and laughed once more. Her j’na. The blunt shaft of the spear wasn’t much of a weapon, but she could use it to carry these gourds. She shoved one end through the knot she’d made in the fabric, smiling as she did, knowing that likely made her more water mad than not, then propped the spear over her shoulder. The gourds were heavy, but not so bulky that she couldn’t bring the bundle with her.

  Now she had more water than she could drink for days. Well… not for days, but enough to last her until she could find more. Maybe the lizard would lead her to them. Wherever the blasted lizard found them had to have a source of water. That had to be what she had sensed. Then she could find a way back to the village.

  She could save them.

  Ciara looked north, thinking of the hike back to the rock shelf. Even were she to reach it, she might not be able to climb the rock. And the village needed a source of water. If she couldn’t find one, then there was no use in returning to them. They had other water seekers, including Fas and her father, both able to shape as well as sense. The only thing that Ciara could bring them was a better source of water.

  Now that she had enough to drink, her ability to detect water began to return. She noticed it most with her heart, recognizing how her blood no longer pounded through her veins, the water she had drunk allowing her to finally settle as her heart resumed its normal pace. But more than that, she sensed other stores of water around her. There were the gourds, full of water and life, but even beyond them were smaller stores of water, most coming from the sharp plants growing on the rock. When she listened, she could feel the blood in the lizard, a steady sliding sense, and almost had a sense of warmth, though she wasn’t sure why that should be. Beyond the lizard was even more water, the great sense that had brought her here in the first place.

  If she could reach it, and if she could find a way for the village to make it down to the flat rock, she might find a way for her people to stop wandering for a while. Wasn’t that the reason she’d come out here? The reason that she’d risked so much of herself in the first place?

  Ciara pulled her focus away from the rock shelf and started after the lizard, chasing the strange creature for the second time. At least now she didn’t think it intended to kill her. Stormbringer, the strange creature might actually be trying to help her, if she could actually believe that.

  When she reached the lizard, it barely glanced back. She trailed after it, curiosity driving her to let it lead, and they walked for most of the day. Ciara never saw any more of the gourds but had the sense that she was nearing the source of water she detected. As the day progressed, awareness of water began to fill her. She managed to stay hydrated by drinking from the gourds, trying to conserve as much as she could, but there wasn’t the same sense of urgency she normally had.

  By the time the sun started sinking, she’d begun to wonder if she’d made a mistake. Maybe she didn’t sense water as she thought. The lizard continued to walk, and she continued to follow, but more and more, she had a rising certainty that she should turn back.

  “Should have turned back before starting all this,” she muttered to herself.

  What was she doing? She should have returned to the village before attempting to climb down the shelf in the first place, and then when the lizard brought her the gourds, she should have found a way back up. Every decision she had made since Fas left her had been the wrong one. What kind of nya’shin would she be if she never went back to help the village?

  The answer didn’t come—not that Ciara expected it.

  The winds shifted as they usually did at night, the cool beginning to blow in, and she pulled her elouf tighter. Doing that didn’t really matter. There was still a dry heat in the air that was uncommon in the fading sunlight.

  It wasn’t until the lizard stopped that she realized why.

  They’d reached a rock ledge, but not nearly the same height as the massive shelf she’d nearly died climbing down. The lizard stood, looking over the edge, and she stared out but saw nothing more than endless rock. She jumped down and realized that the ledge protruded outward, creating a shaded cover, and underneath, she found the edge of a narrow pool of water.

  At first Ciara stared at it, struggling to believe it was real. This was what she had sensed? This was all?

  She forced down her disappointment and listened, then realized the depths of the pool. She sensed no bottom to this pond. There was enough water here to last… a long time. And with the life she had sensed around her, with all the plants that grew, they could make a place like this home, if only until they found another more suitable.

  The village could thrive, if only she could reach them. She grabbed the rock, preparing to climb back up, when she saw three shadows circling in the darkening sky.

  Draasin.

  Of course they would come here. They knew about the water, and this must be their preferred watering hole. This was where they flew, where she had seen them circling.

  If that were the case, there would be no safety for the village here, not after the way the draasin had already attacked once and threatened to do so again. Even the draasin valued water.

  She scurried up the rock, her heart sinking as she did. All of her suffering and for this? This pool could not save her people.

  22

  Ciara

  I have witnessed elementals helping other elementals and suspect that they must communicate in some way. What connects the elementals that do not connect them to man?

  —Lren Atunal, Cardinal of the College of Scholars

  Ciara scrambled back from the ledge, moving so that she wouldn’t be as close to the circling draasin. She dropped the pack holding the gourds and grabbed it, pulling it back into her lap. If she needed to run, she wouldn’t do it without water this time.

  Her j’na rested on her kn
ees, and she gripped it more tightly than needed, but if she had to do something to scare them away, she could swing the shaft of her spear. Like that would do anything.

  What she really needed was the ability her father possessed that kept the draasin from attacking the village.

  If she knew how to do that, would it work if the entire village came to the watering hole? The depths she sensed told her that enormous stores were found here, maybe even more than she had originally thought. Ciara tried not to let herself get too excited with what she detected, especially if there was no way for her to reach the water, but this was the most she’d ever sensed, almost enough to make her believe the stories of water for as far as the eye could see.

  The lizard sat next to her, and its thick, scaly hide brushed against her. She barely moved when it did. Ciara didn’t know what she needed could do. With the gourds, she had enough water to survive the trek back across the desert, but that wouldn’t help the village. Even if she could get the people here, she wasn’t certain it would matter, not if the draasin had made this place theirs.

  “What do you think I should do?” Ciara asked the lizard.

  It only stared at her and then worked its tongue over its lips.

  She laughed softly. Stormbringer, but she was going mad out here in the heat. When she’d been dying of thirst, at least she could explain away the behavior, but the gourds had helped, and for the first time in her life, she had more to drink than she needed.

  “Loneliness,” she said. “I didn’t think it would be so hard out here by myself.”

  The lizard blinked again and nudged her with its head. The skin was rough, but not as rough as its tongue had felt when it had licked at her. Then, Ciara had thought it would peel away her flesh, but what if the lizard’s saliva had actually saved her?

  She should be dead. A fall from as high up as she had been, at least from as high as the marks on the stone led her to believe she had been, should have been enough to kill. That she hadn’t died was some sort of miracle, but then the Stormbringer had never been known to be a kind god.