Song of Storms (Song and Storm Trilogy Book 1)

by Kayla Maya

  “I will find you at dawn.” He glanced about. “I will have someone watch over your family for you upon your departure. Until then, stay out of sight.”

  Bryn spent the night in the barn again, nestled underneath the straws of hay. The stench of horses assaulted her nostrils, her nose wrinkling in disgust. She yawned, stretching out her arms and legs before she stood. The animals scuffled around in their stalls, the soft noises echoing around from her. She had no idea why being in this barn calmed her down. As far as she could tell, she had very little time until that hooded man found her. Her heart dropped. Bryn knew that she would have to go home and bury Lukas before her other siblings discovered his body. She sighed. The day had already gone to hell.

  Opening the barn door, Bryn slipped out into the morning. The brisk breeze ruffled up her hair, the sweet smell of pastries wafting from the nearby homes that prepared their dinner deserts for the night. She made it to her home, hearing the soft cries coming from within. She opted to knock on the door, stepping back to wait. Lilac opened the door, eyes wide as she stared at her older sister, an older sister that possessed magic. Bryn understood her sister's fear; she no doubt would be afraid as well. Still, Bryn felt rather relieved to see her sister well and unharmed.

  “What do you want?” Lilac asked.

  “I came to say my goodbyes,” Bryn replied. She opened her mouth, but a new voice entered, followed by an unfamiliar face.

  “Lilac, who is this?” The woman wore black robes, her blond hair pulled back in a bun, her angular eyes narrowed in suspicion. And, just like the young man from last night, she too had a crow necklace with two arrows behind it. No doubt, a symbol that Bryn did not know of. This must be the woman that he told her would take care of her family in her absence.

  “This is my sister, Bryn, Sister Agatha,” Lilac responded.

  Sister Agatha’s demeanor relaxed, opening up the door a little wider to allow Bryn into her own home. The woman bent down and whispered, “You do know there is a dead young boy in that spare room?”

  Bryn nodded. “Yes. That’s Lukas, my older brother. He…he passed away last night, and I just now got home to give him the burial he needed. No, the burial he deserved. May I?”

  Sister Agatha nodded, wrapping her arms around crying Lilac, who refused even to acknowledge Bryn’s existence. Bryn’s emotions were haywire, the clouds outside swirling angrily as thunder boomed across the sky. Sister Agatha went to the window, watching the rain as it pelted the area, the storm mixing with Bryn’s emotions, expressing what she could not. Bryn unlocked the door to Lukas’ room, the door squeaking on its hinges. She didn’t even want to describe the way he looked by just a few hours of his death with his sickly pale skin and purple bags underneath his eyes. At least this time he appeared peaceful in his sleep and not haggard like he usually had been when he was alive.

  “He’s a handsome boy,” Sister Agatha said. “I assume black lung?”

  Bryn nodded. “Yes.”

  “A disease that claims multiple victims it would seem. I’ll take care of the children. Just take care of Lukas, will you?”

  Bryn nodded once more and took care of Lukas’ body. It took almost two hours for her to set up a pyre to have him burned. With the help of Sister Agatha, Lukas was placed on a wooden bed, with the rain pelting them on all sides.

  “How do you plan on setting fire to this? It’s pouring.” Sister Agatha replaced her hood.

  “I’ll take care of this,” Bryn told her. “Please take care of my family for me. Tell them that I love them.”

  Sister Agatha narrowed her eyes but nodded sharply and went back into the house. Bryn closed her eyes. She had never summoned her lightning before by just her will alone. So, she did the only thing she could do. Let her emotions run rampant. She let her emotions flood her mind like an open gate; the memories colliding with each other. Bryn remembered the day her father came home from the mines in a wagon brought by the king’s men. She remembered the anguished cry that came out of her mother’s mouth, remembered Lukas stepping up to the guards to offer his services in exchange for their Father’s. The night she had last night with Lukas dying in her arms. Bryn fell to her knees, crying out as the pouring rain turned to hail, the thunder and lightning dancing in the dark sky. Rain pelted her, the rain mixing with her tears as a single lightning bolt struck the pyre, lighting up the wood and setting fire. Bryn stood back, bowing her head and praying to the gods for Lukas’ ashes to be scattered across the land, to make trees and give others hope.

  “Impressive,” Sister Agatha held out a blanket towards Bryn. “Can you usually call the storms so easily?”

  Bryn accepted the blanket, wrapping it around her shoulders. “No, it just depends on my moods. When I’m happy, which isn’t very often, there are no storms. When I’m angry or depressed, which is an ordinary day for me, they appear. I can’t control it.”

  Sister Agatha nodded. “Brother North will arrive shortly. I’m afraid. So, you don’t have much time to say your goodbyes—”

  “No,” Bryn said much too quickly. “I don’t want them involved. They can’t know what I am or what I can do. As far as I know, they’re normal. They’re not monsters like I am.”

  “Monster, you are not,” Sister Agatha told her. “You have a gift.”

  “This gift is a curse,” Bryn said. “I don’t see this being a gift.”

  “It most certainly is a gift, whether you see it or not, but you have a better talent than just your magic.” This voice was stronger, more manly. This was not Sister Agatha’s voice; no, it was the voice of the young man from last night. The same one that told her not to expose herself and even saved her life when the guards had chased her down after using her powers, after setting a few houses on fire and killing two guards. Was this Brother North?

  “Bryn, we have to go. They are waiting for us,” Brother North said.

  “’ They’? Who’s they?” Bryn asked.

  “You will know soon enough, but we have to go before the guards arrive. Sister Agatha will take care of your family and the guards. But if we don’t go now, then everything we planned would be for nothing.”

  She nodded and glanced back at her home. The place that held so many memories, more bad than good, sure, but still memories of Bryn’s childhood. Turning back around, she noticed that Brother North had his hood back on, reins in each hand. He extended his hand with the reins of the black gelding with white socks and an almost white looking star on the forehead. His horse was chestnut, like his hair, with one white sock on the back leg. Quietly, Bryn took the reins, her hands shaking. She had never ridden a horse before, and she doubted if she had any muscle memory she could use. If Brother North saw her hesitation, he showed no sign as he slipped onto the saddle and turning his horse in the opposite direction, towards the Foreboding Mountains. Bryn used every source of knowledge she had to clamber up onto the saddle, trying her very best to stay straight on it. She took one last glance at her home, hoping that one day she would return and maybe, just maybe, she would find a way to lift this curse she had.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Bryn glanced around. She had always been told to stay away from the Foreboding Mountains, that only danger lurked there. Wolves, bears, even thugs roamed the mountains, eager for their next kill or their next score. She inspected her surroundings, but the only thing she could see for miles was the endless amount of fog. Dew clung to her already damp clothes, her hood drawn over her face to cover it from Brother North’s own view. He always glanced at her from time to time, his mouth always in a tight line. She wondered if she had offended him somehow yesterday during their encounter. Instead, she opted to start a small conversation to see what she had done to him.

  “So, do they usually call you Brother North? Are you like a nun or something?” Bryn asked.

  At that, he turned, removing his hood. Bryn was still captured by his beauty, of how a young man like him could look so much like a god. She quickly averted her eyes, hoping that he hadn
’t seen her staring at him. He smirked, turning back around, his hood all but forgotten as he kept his attention forward.

  “I’m not a nun, Bronwyn. Those are what women are called.” he said, his voice hinting at amusement. “Nor a priest before you ask.”

  “Then what are you? Why are you so secretive with me? Why help me?” Bryn asked. She wrinkled her nose. “And it’s Bryn, I don’t go by Bronwyn. Not anymore,” she added.

  “So many questions,” he grinned. “However, I cannot answer your questions. Those are reserved for my leader. She will explain everything.”

  “Your leader? Wait, are we going to Stonehenge? To the Academy?”

  “No,” Brother North swung his horse around to face her. “We will never go there, that is where the king’s men are.”

  “Stonehenge? But why? I thought that it was exempt from the king of Serena, seeing as how it was out of his jurisdiction? As far as I knew, only people with gifts are allowed in, the ones who hold magic.”

  “Like yourself.”

  “No, Brother North, not like me. This is not magic; this is a curse. A curse that I can’t even control.”

  “Just call me North,” he told her, turning his horse back around to continue on their way. “You are correct that it is out of his jurisdiction. However, that place is crawling with his guards. The only people that are in the Academy are the ones that the king trains to become part of his Royal Guard. Enough talk about Stonehenge, we have something else to talk about. Your talents of being a thief.”

  “I’m not a thief, not anymore.” Bryn’s shoulders sagged. She hated remembering when she used to steal. For both fun and survival. Her father called it her hidden talents, but Bryn always knew better. At first, she thought that it was a talent that stealing was natural for her. Then, she stole the wrong thing. She stole a trinket from the king’s wife, the queen. Her father suffered the consequences greatly. His wages were cut severely, so much so that it would take a week’s worth of work even to pay one meal for the night. After that, Bryn stole to survive, to keep her family alive. She was the best thief in all of Serena, so much so that the townsfolk even gave her a renowned nickname. The Raven Thief. The thief that stalked the night, the thief with the black hair and amber eyes. Up until a couple of months ago, Bryn had sheltered that life. Claimed it was no longer needed. Still, how did North even know of her thievery?

  “The Raven Thief,” North smirked. “I believe that was the name given to you if I am not mistaken?” Bryn frowned. How on earth did he even know that as well? “We know all and see all,” was his response.

  “Now you’re not making any sense. I shed that life behind, North. I’m no longer a thief, nor will I ever be one again.” Bryn shifted in her saddle. Her legs felt like they would catch fire with how much her thighs rubbed along the horse’s sides.

  “Don’t jump to any conclusions.” North turned his head. “Once we reach Baltimore, you will learn more about our mission and why we chose you.”

  “Baltimore? The city by the ocean?”

  “Been there, have you?”

  “No,” she hung her head. “I’ve never seen the sea before.”

  “Well, you are in for a treat then.”

  They spent the rest of the afternoon in silence. Bryn occasionally would recall a time when her life was simpler. Most of her life was spent in depression and hunger; her emotions always stirring up the storms and creating chaos. In fact, she would give anything to be able to create sunlight. The constant fog had made Bryn soaked through with dew, giving her continuous chills that reached into her very bones. Even with her cloak, the dew still found a way in. North didn’t even appear affected by the cold or the wet, and in fact, he seemed not even to have a drop on him. Which begged the question, did he protect her by using the wind? Was it him that had used it instead of her? She opened her mouth, closing it instantly when a lone inn stood off from the path they were on—an inn with a sign that held no name.

  Strange.

  “We’ll rest here for the night,” North called back. At her raised brows, he added, “I’ll pay. I know the world has not been too kind to you here recently.”

  Bryn hunkered down in her saddle. She hated having others pay for her, especially back when Lukas used what little coin he had to pay for Bryn to have a fresh pair of clothes since hers had been ruined. She couldn’t recall how they had gotten destroyed; all she could remember was Lukas showing up with a new pair of pants and a new tunic. Absentminded, Bryn rubbed the fabric between her forefinger and thumb, remembering how she told Lukas that she would pay him back for buying her clothes. Even then, Lukas had looked out for her, and she repaid him by doing nothing, by allowing him to work alone. In truth, she believed that it was her fault that she dug him an early grave.

  North dropped down from his saddle, running a hand over the horse’s snout before going inside the nameless inn. Bryn waited on the horse, drumming her hands along the saddle to keep her mind busy from playing out her sad existence. Her fingers itched when she saw a few mosaic pictures strewn on a nearby log. Lilac would have loved seeing those pictures. However, Bryn had to remind herself that she was no longer the Raven Thief, that she was just a normal young woman trying to get by. By stealing. Luckily, for Bryn, North emerged from the inn with a key. She arched a brow as he tossed her the keys, grabbing the reins of his horse.

  “They only had one room, two beds. They are making beef stew now, so if you will give me the gelding, I’ll take care of stabling them, and you can go in and eat as much as you would like. It’s on me.” He held out his hand for the horse’s reins.

  Bryn swung down from the horse, instantly regretting doing that motion. Her legs fell beneath her, an enormous cramp rocking up her legs and into her spine. They had ridden the horses for hours, something that Bryn had never done before, and she was suffering greatly from the cramping in her legs. North chuckled, taking his horse and hers to the stable, yelling back to rub her legs to help with the cramping. Standing on shaky legs, Bryn managed to make her way to the door of the inn, opening it. The inside was quiet, the place as dark as almost the night sky. A single bar was set on the left side of the inn with a mousy girl cleaning the top, with chairs strewn about in some toppled over. A few tables with chairs were in the main foyer, and a fire lit in the hearth. Of course, a staircase was leading up to the rooms; the wooden rail chipped in some areas. This inn had seen better days for sure.

  “Welcome.” The mousy girl smiled, offering Bryn a steaming cup of unknown liquid. “Drink this it’ll help with the cramping from riding horses all day.”

  Bryn accepted the cup, smelling the sweet tang of peaches and mint. She drank it greedily, smacking her lips together and running her tongue over her lips to get what little droplets were left. “Thank you. Um, where is everyone?”

  “Upstairs asleep,” the girl replied. “My name is Chloe. Most of the people here are…outlaws, you could say. They trashed the inn this morning, and me and my mother have been cleaning since last night. Mother is now fixing dinner for the evening before heading off to bed early to take my place.”

  Bryn did not fancy staying at an inn where most of the people were wanted thugs and possibly even murderers. What on earth was North thinking of bringing them here? She was more than comfortable with just sleeping on the ground, just like she normally did back at home in Skeg. Home. That place wasn’t home anymore, and neither were the people that lived there. She glanced behind her when the door opened once more, and North strode in, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. Why couldn’t they have gone through the Whispering Mountains instead, why did it have to be the Foreboding Mountain? Chloe eyed North up and down, her lips curling at the edges as she inspected his handsome features. Jealousy, sparked within Bryn’s breast, although she had no clue as to why it would happen. She had no inkling of attraction towards North. She barely knew him after all. He was rather too suspicious for Bryn to be comfortable with, yet he still saved her life.

  “Are y
ou tired?” North asked Bryn. “You can go up and sleep if you want before dinner is ready to be served.”

  “No, thank you. Chloe and I were just having a nice chat that is all.” Bryn couldn’t help the condescending tone that replaced her usually jovial one. She had no idea why she was suddenly acting like a jealous idiot, and right in front of them both anyway. Scolding herself, Bryn grabbed a chair and sat, wrapping her fingers around her mug. “Can I have some more of that tea, please?”

  Chloe nodded and poured her another round, keeping her eyes trained on North, even going so far as to wink at him. North didn’t seem to see her, only keeping his eyes on his mug and the steam that rose from the tea. Bryn opened her mouth when a loud crash broke through the foyer, and a portly man came stumbling into the room, nearly falling from the stairs as he made his way into the foyer to the bar where all three of them sat. Chloe’s eyes widened; no doubt, unsure of how to deal with the drunk bumbling man that looked too weathered to even be remotely young. North’s fingers tightened around his mug; eyes narrowed as the bumbling man yelled at Chloe to get him another round of drinks.

  “Are you sure you should be drinking still?” North’s voice was gruff, almost predatory as he turned his attention to the man who now gulped down a glass of beer, the liquid running down the sides of his mouth.

  “What’s it to you?” he slurred. “I can drink when I want.”

  North stood, his chair sliding across the wooden floor as he approached the bumbling man that threw his glass at Chloe, shouting for more beer to sate his never-ending thirst it would seem. Bryn’s emotions started to churn, the sky outside swirling with clouds at her anger, almost as if agreeing with them about this drunkard. If anything were to be done, it would be done by North judging by how he stalked over to the other man.