NightWind

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NightWind Page 1

by Sara Kincaid




  Copyright Sara Kincaid

  Kansas City, MO

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book can be reproduced—mechanically, electronically, or by any other means including photocopying—without written permission from the publisher.

  www.writervsworld.com

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2019903639

  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform, North Charleston, SC

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Epilogue

  For Mike,

  Because you told me to write about a coup.

  So I did...sort of.

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you to Mike, my number one fan and my biggest supporter. I love our writing dates on the couch and being able to go off into my imagination while you work on your research. We may not talk much during those times, but they are very special to me.

  A writer is nothing without her support crew. I love our Scoobies writing group and thank each of you for being sounding boards for everything from back of book copy to plot issues.

  Also, thank you so very much to my ever-important beta readers. Thank you to Jennifer, Jen and John. Your suggestions and encouragement are the things that get me to the finish line. And, to my editor, Elisa: You rock! I can’t believe we work together all day and then I convinced you to edit my novel in your free time. You are amazing!

  Cast of Main Characters

  Rina (NightWind) – Former apprentice to Miyabi. Now, a member of the Aviator batallion of the Burgan military.

  Halay – Rina’s sister.

  Miyabi – Rina’s Master Teacher and owner of the local ceramics shop.

  Malik Regis – A member of the Burgan military.

  Regent Arayna – The Regent of Burga.

  Regent Opher – The Regent of Kaldar.

  General Khalid Shin – General of the Burgan militia.

  Commander Dax – Ranked official in the Burgan militia.

  General Rex Saladin – General of the Kaldarian militia.

  Aviators

  Niko (SquallTamer) – Rina’s deceased brother and former leader of the Aviator battalion.

  Raze Uxton (FireStorm) – Current leader of the Aviator battalion and Rina’s former lover.

  Eldon Knox (IceRider) – A member of the Aviators.

  Jarem (WaveRunner) – A member of the Aviators

  Mystics

  Eli – The first Mystic to be discovered in several decades. He was formerly apprenticed to a mechanic.

  Eira – The oldest of the Burgan Mystics.

  Zaid – A middle-aged Mystic of Burga.

  Moriyo – A Mystic of Burga and Eli’s Master Teacher.

  Thea Winter – The only remaining Mystic living in the city of Kaldar.

  Prologue

  Unity.

  Rina could still taste the acrid flavor of the oath in her mouth, an oath that bound her for life. It tasted vaguely of the bitter melon that once grew in curling vines in her mother’s garden. This same oath, that led Niko to his death, now led her along the pebbled path through the Shrine of a Thousand Doorways to the top of Mt. Yama.

  Rina rubbed rough fingers against the dark pants of her uniform. The stiff material was thick and warm against the breeze, the shine of pomp and circumstance on her collar, a curling pattern of gold leaves, evident even in the thin light. Up ahead, the path took a sharp curve and inclined steeply, taking her further up the mountain and farther away from the life she had known.

  Mt. Yama, mountain of secrets, held a history that stretched back eons; from the whipping winds that buoyed the Aviators’ wings to the strange Mystics who fueled the Mantinean way of life and the dozens of legends that bound and guided the people of Burga.

  Would Niko be proud that she had joined the Aviators? Or would he have warned her away? These questions no longer mattered, for the sacred words had passed her lips and, once spoken, they could not be taken back.

  Bravery.

  “Niko, be with me, brother.” Rina scanned the arches of another doorway, noting the strange symbol etched into the ancient timbers. What had Niko been thinking as he made the journey to the top? Did his heart beat roughly in his chest just as hers did now?

  Mt. Yama shifted like a half-sleeping beast beneath her feet and she thought of the hidden barracks of the Mystics, the guardians and the keepers of the mysterious spark which she would soon wear, ensconced in a lightning tube, upon her back.

  Far below, tiny lights from Burgan windows glittered in the darkness, awaiting the approaching storm. She was a long way from the kiln now. A soldier. Bound to the Regent. Bound to the Aviators. She climbed onward.

  Rina passed through another doorway carved from the dark flesh of an ebony tree, the design chiseled by a patient and dedicated craftsman. Oval pillars stood at stark attention, bearing an overzealous crossbeam on their shoulders. Sweeping arches drew the eyes skyward, an homage to the great goddess, Nia. One thousand doorways, meticulously carved, and each one stood out like a dark spindle on the back of the mountain.

  As a girl, Rina had been warned away from the great mountain. Fascination with the ancient formation drew her just as stories of fire-breathing snow lions kept her away, her eyes wary and her nights filled with terrifying visions. “Nothing but a pile of ash will be left if they catch you,” her mother had warned. The legendary lions were long extinct, but their memory lived on.

  Somewhere off the path, animal claws grappled with the rocky mountain face and the beast let loose a howling snarl. Despite herself, Rina flinched and the angry arc of gold that curved from her left eye down to the corner of her lip flashed in the moon’s wan glow like a jagged burst of lightning. Clouds gathered.

  The air grew colder and the musk of rain tickled her nose. A mountain wind forced the lithe trees into a bow, their leaves a splay of color. With angry fingers, Rina combed her hair, black as night and newly shorn, from her face. Like her face, her hair had once been a mark of her beauty. Now it lay, a tamed river of black that ended abruptly at her shoulders. The mark upon her face had not been her choice.

  In the beginning, she had kept track, counting the doorways. The silence of the mountainside was tranquil, the trickle of the nearby stream calming. Hours later, she had lost count. And then the sun began to sink.

  A crackle of lightning and then a growl of thunder warned of the impending storm. Soon it would let forth a deluge. Thick drops of rain pelted the ground around her as she passed through another arch.
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  The glow of a lantern up ahead filled her with hope. Rina stepped into the wash of light and beheld the final staircase, rough slabs carved into the rock of Yama herself. A brisk wind buffeted her and her boots skidded along the smooth stones. Rina stumbled, her knee banging painfully against the rock beneath her. Her hands moved shakily to the ground and she bowed her head, wet locks of jet in her face.

  She took a haggard breath and looked up. Just beyond the last lantern stood two figures. The Mystics. Rina gathered her strength and found her feet, her gaze focused on the shadowy figures ahead.

  When her boots crunched on the gravel at the top of the stairs, both figures turned and stepped into the light. The elder Mystic, a man of countless decades, with a square chin and stringy gray hair approached her first. The cobalt eyes of the younger man flickered over her. In his hands he carried her new wings folded into a small cube that would fit between her shoulder blades. The mechanical marvel consisted of black and white feathers, special arcs of metal and a glittering lightning tube.

  “Welcome, Rina.” The elder Mystic spoke softly, the wind whipping his long tunic.

  “Thank you, Master Moriyo.” Rina took a breath, curbing the quaver that came into her voice.

  Moriyo nodded to her respectfully and gestured to the younger man. “Mystic Eli has been hard at work, building a special set of wings for you, our first female Aviator,” his lips quirked into a small smile. “Aviatrix I have called you in my thoughts.”

  Rina bent her head humbly, though a smile colored her face with a charming blush. “Thank you, Master Moriyo.”

  “Master Moriyo,” Mystic Eli urged. “The storm approaches.” There was tenderness in his voice and a tinge of worry. Lightning flashed once more and his eyes caught the glare of gold that covered the vicious scar on Rina’s face.

  “Ah yes. Rina, the order does not require you to take your flight this night.”

  Rina blinked. “It doesn’t?” Her brother had described his trek up the mountain, his exhaustion and then the rush of exhilaration as he leapt from the apex to complete his initiation. No turning back. No hesitation. Jump or die.

  “A rough storm approaches with winds coming from the peak of the mountain herself. The Night Wind. It’s a dangerous first flight. There will be no harm in waiting for fairer weather to take your leap of faith.”

  Rina wiped raindrops from her face and bit her lip. The old Mystic seemed sincere. His strange, gray eyes were large in his heavily wrinkled face and he clasped his hands in earnest. She peered out over the edge of the mountain and a wind almost immediately thrust her forward. She’d never flown before. But that was just the way of things. A leap of faith. Either the soldier took wing or plummeted to their death.

  Never before had a woman been selected to fill one of the sacred roles as a member of the Aviator battalion. Rina had already borne the penalty of being the first. She reached up absently and touched the gold paint that covered the angry red scar on the side of her face. To back down now would only invite further jeering. “I will jump, Master Moriyo.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “So be it.” Respect warmed his eyes. Master Moriyo gestured and the young Mystic came forward into the lamplight.

  Flight.

  The wings were folded into themselves into a small cube, thick feathers illuminated by the glittering spark that flitted along the wire inside the lightning tube. As Eli approached, Rina’s eyes were drawn to the slivers of silver marks etched into his skin. The unreadable symbols snaked down into the folds of his shirt. The sight of them gave Rina an unsettled feeling.

  The younger Mystic stepped behind her holding out the shoulder straps for her. Then he set about connecting the wings to the stiff leather Aviator jacket. With the last bolt in place, Eli returned to his place beside his master.

  “The leap of faith is a test, the ultimate test,” Master Moriyo continued. “This morning you took your oath. Now you must prove your fealty to those words and to the spark.” There was an ominous undertone to those words and Rina fought a shiver. Jump or die.

  The weight of the wings between her shoulder blades was surprisingly light and Rina wondered how she would ever stay aloft. But there was nowhere to go but down. Fly or die. Rina swallowed her doubt and toed the ledge. Her wings opened wide, unfurling in an impressive display. The Night Wind howled.

  She shut her eyes, full darkness descending like a curtain, and breathed deeply. She could taste the icy air and the tang of the mountain. The clouds enveloped the moon and rain whistled in her ears. Rina stepped off the ledge and embraced the wind.

  Chapter One

  Rina

  Unity. Bravery. Flight. Those words, struck in black ink on the skin near Rina’s right shoulder reminded her of where her loyalties should lie, of the oath she’d taken nearly seven years ago, even as her heart beat now for a different cause.

  Across the city, near the towering gates, a battle raged. Listening to the clash of metal against metal and the shouts that rode the spring breeze caused Rina to pace like the mystical snow lions rumored to have once prowled the caves of Mt. Yama. Her hair was cut short, shorn off by a rough razor, leaving a pool of liquid black encircling her face. The golden arc of paint that covered the scar along her left cheek flashed in the sunlight. She was blood and fire and every fiber of her ached with longing to go to the aid of her people.

  “Curse him,” she muttered between tightly clenched teeth as she slung her bow from her shoulder.

  Crouched beside her, his back against a sun-warmed wall of limestone, Eldon, known as IceRider among the Aviators, grunted his agreement. She was talking about Firestorm, their commander.

  He opened one green eye and looked up, taking in Rina’s quivering stance, her wings still a taut knot on her back. He ran his free hand through the light brown stubble that covered his face. “We must trust our fellow soldiers.” He paused and nodded his head in the direction of the fighting. “And our great leader.” Eldon’s lips quirked with dark humor but Rina merely met his languid response with a glare, her brown eyes flashing with sparks of fury. “And you were always the level-headed one in battle,” he quipped after a moment.

  Rina paused in her pacing and the anger dimmed somewhat. “I know. But it’s Kaldar. Our people are in danger.” She gestured forcefully toward the walls surrounding the city below them before resuming her pacing. “And our fearless leader won’t let us protect our people.”

  Eldon nodded. Kaldar, their fellow city-state on the other side of Mantinea, was a land filled with warriors led by Regent Opher, a man with the heart of a conqueror and the morals of a fiend. But this is not what agitated her. Soldiers, swathed in red, had killed her brother, Niko, in a battle on the outskirts of Delos nearly seven years ago.

  “A little political posturing. We have a young Regent. He’s trying to force her hand.” He tried to reassure her, but Eldon wasn’t so sure himself. He simply parroted the words that had come from FireStorm’s mouth earlier that day.

  Rina shrugged her narrow shoulders. It was true. Regent Arayna barely had time to warm the seat of her throne before Kaldar renewed their attacks on Burga. Though Arayna had been in control of the regency for a few short years, her family had ruled Burga for generations.

  Below their post and beyond the flourishing grounds of Eagle Palace, the city of Burga opened up into flat cobbled roads, spreading like a spider’s web across the valley between the mountains and the sea. Large homes surrounded the ocean’s shore and in the palace’s shadow. The market center rose with two-story-high stone buildings and ceramic tiled roofs near the heart of a crowd of ancient buildings adjacent to the pier where a horde of small ships and boats bobbed at anchor.

  Burga was a quaint city, as far as Mantinea was concerned. Harsh winters relented briefly before burying residents to the hilt with snow once again. In the past, the battles
against Kaldar had taken place at the gates of other city-states. This year, when the snows had melted, the Kaldarians had appeared at their door. It was the first time Rina had ever wished for winter’s return.

  She glanced at the great Mt. Yama, her heart filled with regret as she remembered the hurt in Eli’s gentle face and how his mouth had twisted in disappointment the last time they had been together. At least he was safe.

  A pair of heavy boots pounded on the limestone stairs. Eldon and Rina tensed and turned toward the sound as a panting and flushed Jarem appeared in the doorway. Smooth cheeks lined his narrow face. His dark hair stood in spikes around his head and had streaks of blonde frosting the tips. How he kept the spikes from falling, Nia only knew. Jarem wore their same Aviator uniform, complete with the brown leather jacket and quiver of arrows on his left shoulder.

  “WaveRunner! What news?”

  Jarem stopped short and clapped his fist against his chest in salute. “IceRider. NightWind. I have news from Commander FireStorm.” Rina grabbed her bow and slung it over her shoulder, ready for the order to press forward into the fray. “We must fall back.”

  Rina’s eyes rounded with disbelief. But it was Eldon who responded. “What reason does the commander give? Our people are under attack.” He glared at Jarem, though he knew that the young cadet was merely the messenger.

  WaveRunner did not wilt under their glares. He shook his spiky head, the sun catching on his smooth cheeks with the movement. “Apologies, sir. The Kaldarians have breached our northwestern wall and are pillaging their way through the streets. We must retreat to protect the Regent and the palace.”

  “They’ll be going through the market district.” Eldon looked up and met Rina’s gaze.

  Blood drained from her face and spots filled her vision. A look of sympathy crossed Eldon’s features before he turned to the stairs. With lead-like limbs, Rina followed behind her fellow troops. “One flock.” Her lips formed the words, but her mind was elsewhere thinking of her sister now at the mercy of Kaldar.

 

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