The Wrathful Mountains Page 2

  Kaiya had grown complacent over the years. She practiced her skills daily, always eager to learn new spells and perfect the ones she already knew. But there were no troubles in her homeland that required her special attentions. For that, she would have to travel the world, an ambition she held onto for another day. Until her parents were gone, she had no desire to leave the mountains. Unless, of course, she was summoned. Her elven friends in the Vale below might require her assistance, and she would go happily. But beyond that, she hoped not to travel away from the mountains. There would be many years ahead and plenty of time to see the world. For now, she was content staying close to home.

  Over the years, most dwarves had come to look on Kaiya with respect. Some still had their reservations, but she had proved herself helpful on many occasions. Her magic could help bring much-needed rain for their crops, and she had been of great assistance when a magical plague descended on a nearby village. Word had spread of her talents, and she’d even had the pleasure of an audience with the king. Not that Kaiya cared much for royalty. Politics didn’t interest her in the slightest, and she had no desire to join the ruling family.

  As the moon made its path across the sky, sleep still eluded the sorceress. She could not forget about the presence she sensed in the mountain, a nagging feeling ever creeping into her mind. Refusing to stand back up and try reaching out to it, she forced herself to remain on the ground. I have to get at least a few hours’ sleep, she told herself. Drawing energy from the air, she channeled her magic throughout her body, encasing herself in a soft, white glow. Within minutes the glow subsided, and the sorceress fell asleep.

  A hazy vision of her parents’ farm played out before her eyes. Two of her brothers tended the flock, having returned home to aid their ailing father. Kaiya watched idly from her seat beneath an oak tree, leaning against its wide trunk. Lazily she turned a sphere of silver magic over in her fingers, its light dancing upon her skin. Turning her gaze toward the mountain’s summit, she glimpsed a darkened figure, its arms spread wide to the sky. As she pondered who this person might be, it sank back into the depths, disappearing within the rocks.

  Before her eyes, the farmhouse disappeared, and she found herself standing high in the mountains, her feet buried deep in snow. A wild wind blew around her, but it carried no snowflakes nor the frigid chill of a mountain winter. Instead, tiny pebbles drifted on the breeze, pelting her face and forcing her to shield her eyes. Again a dark figure appeared in the distance, but as she stepped forward to approach it, it sank into the stone.

  Kaiya looked up to the stars, but there was only darkness. A layer of dust and clouds hid the light of the heavens from her view, and she strained her eyes to see past it. Reaching out with magic, she felt only emptiness, and a chill ran through her body. The ground beneath her feet groaned, a rumble becoming louder and more intense as it continued. Without warning, the ground gave way, a deep chasm opening in the mountain.

  Down she fell, grasping desperately at the edge of the rift. It was a futile effort. Her fingers found only loose rock, and she slid, her breath stolen away in a single gasp. Instinctively she called upon the wind, attempting to bend it to her will. But she found nothing. There was no wind, only stillness.

  A sense of panic overcame the dwarf woman, her mind racing with spells she could not cast. How could this happen? How could her magic fail her? She should be floating upward on the air, not plunging deep inside the earth.

  Crying out, Kaiya tried to call upon the air, but her voice would not project. Instead, she heard nothing but the beating of her own heart, thumping wildly as she continued to fall. Dizziness came over her, the air escaping her lungs. All around her was darkness, the mountain itself closing in on her. Bracing herself for what she might see, she turned her eyes downward to peer into the abyss. Below was only more darkness.

  Never one to give up, the sorceress continued to call upon her magic. Perhaps she could force the air into this forbidden space. Pulling at the magic stored inside her, she felt herself weakening, as if something were draining her powers, feasting on her life force. Steeling her mind, she refused to be prey to the unseen entity. There had to be a way out of this.

  As she fell deeper into the crevice, the rumbling grew louder. The walls trembled, shaking loose bits of rock and dust that coated her face. Clawing at her face to wipe the dirt away, she felt herself suffocating, buried alive within the rubble. Yet still she continued to fall.

  Flailing desperately and nearing unconsciousness, Kaiya’s eyes spotted a tiny glint of light. It took on a familiar shape, but she could not put a name to it. Forcing herself to stay awake, she stared at the light as it came closer. It shone brighter but still eluded her. If only she could grasp it, perhaps she would be saved. Struggling to lift her arm, Kaiya found it far too heavy. Her arm had become a part of the rock, and it would not obey her command. She stared at the light as her eyes slid shut, her final sight that of its fading silver glow.

  Bolting upright, Kaiya woke from her dream and stared into the fire. Looking up to the sky, she stared upon the same stars she had seen before falling asleep. The ground beneath her trembled, and she braced herself, fearing the opening of the chasm she had envisioned. Fortunately, no such event occurred. The trembling subsided, and all was quiet once more.

  Disturbed by her dream, Kaiya hugged her knees to her chest. She stared into the darkness, wondering what it could mean. Perhaps it was simply a product of her lack of sleep, but it left her with a feeling that it was much more. A soft breeze caressed her cheek, reminding her of its presence. It was a message, she decided.

  It was still an hour before dawn, but Kaiya couldn’t wait. She extinguished the fire and took one last look at the stars before heading back down the hill. Her mind whirling, she marched toward home. Within an hour, she stood upon the hill beside her family’s farm. The home where she had grown up quietly awaited her arrival, smoke already drifting from the chimney. Kaiya’s own house stood a few hundred yards behind it, her refuge from the world. The small cottage had been lovingly built by her father nearly five years ago, after he decided she would never choose a husband.

  With a soft sigh, Kaiya proceeded to her parents’ home and peeked inside the door. Her mother, Kassie, busied herself in the kitchen despite the early hour. To Kaiya’s surprise, her father, Darvil, sat in his favorite chair, a blanket over his lap. Though he had grown thin and pale over the past two years, Kaiya still wasn’t used to him not being able to work. Normally, he would already be out in the fields, tending to the sheep. But the farm had proved too much for him in his failing health. Swallowing the sharp pain that came into her throat, Kaiya moved to her father’s side.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked.

  “Never better,” he replied, grinning.

  She leaned in to hug him, noticing more white lines in his thick, red beard. “I love you, Papa,” she whispered before letting go. It seemed she couldn’t tell him those words enough lately.

  Kassie appeared in the doorway, her gray hair pulled back into a neat bun. Holding a steaming bowl of porridge in her hands, she asked, “Are you hungry, dear?”

  Kaiya shook her head and watched as her mother delivered the bowl to her father. “Careful, it’s hot,” she said at the same time as her mother.

  Darvil rolled his eyes. “You two look alike, and now you sound alike,” he said, a playful tone to his voice.

  “What brings you here so early?” Kassie asked, taking a seat. She patted the cushion next to her, inviting her daughter to sit.

  Kaiya remained standing. “There’s trouble,” she began. “I don’t know what it is, but something is happening.”

  “Is it to do with the tremors?” Kassie asked.

  Surprised by the response, Kaiya paused a moment. Her mother had always been intuitive, knowing what Kaiya was up to sometimes before she was aware herself. The two had always been close, but sometimes Kassie’s perceptions were eerily correct. “Yes,” Kaiya finally replied. “I
also had a disturbing dream, a gift from the wind.”

  “Sounds like a gift worth returning,” Darvil commented. “Why is it always your job to fix everything?”

  “Because my sweet girl is special,” Kassie answered, her eyes twinkling.

  “If I didn’t help when it was needed, I wouldn’t be your daughter,” Kaiya said. Her father was a kind-hearted man, always willing to lend a hand to the other farmers when they needed it. The lesson hadn’t been lost on his only daughter. “I might have to go away for a few days,” she continued. “I have to figure out what’s going on.” If her dream was correct, she might have to travel high into the mountains. “Will you take care of my dogs while I’m away?” she asked.

  “Of course,” her mother replied.

  Leaning in, Kaiya kissed both her parents before heading out. In the fields, she spotted her two eldest brothers. They had arrived last year to tend the farm in their father’s stead. Kaiya loved the farm, but she was no farmer. Her knowledge of agriculture was lacking, but she was able to shift the winds favorably to bring the rains as needed. It was the least she could do.

  With a wave to her brothers, she proceeded to her own house. Greeting her were two dogs, one a black-and-tan herding dog named Doozle, and a smaller red-and-white dog named Flip. They greeted her with gusto, nearly knocking her to the ground to lick her face.

  “Settle down, boys,” she told them. “You behave for Mum while I’m away.”

  The dogs looked at her with all-too-knowing eyes. They missed her already.

  “None of that,” she said, stroking each on their backs and scratching at their ears. “I’ll be back soon.”

  Grabbing a leather bag from her closet, she stuffed it with her warmest clothing and a blanket. Despite it being summertime here, higher elevations would still be bitterly cold. As she opened the door to leave, the dogs bolted into the field, greeting her brothers and prancing playfully. They were in good hands.

  Kassie stood on the porch, waiting for her daughter to pass by. As Kaiya moved into sight, Kassie called, “Take this with you.”

  Kaiya retrieved the bundle containing a fresh loaf of bread and some dried fruit. “Thanks, Mum,” she said. Her mother had always prided herself in her kitchen, and no child of hers ever went away hungry.

  “You stay safe,” her mother said, squeezing her close.

  “I will,” Kaiya promised. “You take care of Papa—and yourself too.”

  Glancing back only once, Kaiya pressed on along the rocky path that would lead her into town. It was the best place to start her investigation. News didn’t reach the farmlands quickly, but the town was always full of chatter. Besides that, there was a friend she had neglected to visit.

  Continuing along the path, she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was tracking her movements. She turned around and scanned the area but spotted no one. Still the feeling remained. It was different than the feeling of being watched. She couldn’t quite describe it, but it was as if someone were aware of her movements, without being able to see or hear her. It could only be using magic, which troubled her further because she could not sense who or what it was. This was a force unknown. Whether it was friend or foe remained to be seen.

  Chapter 3

  Squinting her eyes at the afternoon sun, Tashi cursed its brazenness. How dare it rain down its light while Annin still lay abed, suffering convulsions and fever? What right did the world have to continue to turn when one so beautiful was dying? Tashi was no fool. She knew her sister would not last the day. Whatever she did, Annin would perish, and no god would intervene. How she hated them, both the good and the evil. What use were they to anyone?

  Over the past few days, Tashi had gone from doubting all gods to begging for their assistance. She had finally come to this conclusion: Anything being worshipped as a god was a god, whether real or imagined. All that was certain was that she detested them all. They had refused to help her people, and that made the gods her enemy.

  As High Priestess she was expected to tend to the spiritual needs of her tribe, but how could she continue to do so when she no longer had faith? If she spoke against the gods, her own tribe would exile her. That meant she would not be allowed to care for her sister’s child. Tashi had no option but to play along, filling the role she was born to until the day she died. And then the burden would pass to her niece.

  The child, who would not earn a name until she passed one year of age, would be forced into the same life as Tashi, never being free to choose any other path. Perhaps the girl will truly be able to converse with the gods, assuming they listen to anyone, Tashi mused. She had failed, but there was always a chance for the child, as long as she managed to survive. So far she had taken well to the goat’s milk, readily suckling it from the tip of a ram’s horn fashioned by the doula. The thought of her lovely niece brought a smile to the priestess’s face. I will not fail her as I have my sister.

  Nearing her sister’s hut, Tashi paused outside the flap. At the edge of her vision, she spied a shadow, moving in the distance, but when she turned to face it, nothing was there. She stepped inside, observing first the doula, who cradled the cooing infant in her arms. Annin lay motionless upon her mattress, her face and hair dripping with sweat. Tashi’s feet grew heavy as she approached her sister’s form.

  “Annin,” she whispered, squeezing the girl’s hand.

  Annin stirred, her eyes barely opening, but a weak smile appeared on her lips. “My daughter,” she struggled to say.

  “She is beautiful and strong,” Tashi replied.

  Annin attempted to nod, but her head was far too heavy. Her heart yearned to hold her child, to nurse her at her breast and clutch her to her heart. Those days would never come. Her life was at an end, and she had made peace with that. “Sister,” she whispered.

  Tashi leaned closer to her sister. “I’m here,” she said.

  “You must care for her,” Annin said, struggling for breath. “She…she…”

  “I swear to you,” Tashi stated. “She will survive, she will grow strong, and she will want for nothing in this life.” She combed her fingers through her sister’s hair and patted her cheek. Tears dripped from her eyes, splashing against the mattress. Her head felt heavy and thick, throbbing from back to front. Be strong for her, Tashi thought, squeezing her eyes shut. For both of them.

  Annin fluttered her eyelids but did not speak. Her sister’s words had not gone unheard. Despite her weakening body, she could rest peacefully knowing her child was safe. Resigning herself to her fate, she allowed her muscles to relax. She never spoke again.

  Refusing to let go of her sister’s hand, Tashi sat cross-legged on the dirt floor despite the pain in her heart. She wanted to run from the hut, screaming and raving. All in her path would flee in terror, or she would curse them as she had the gods. Her own people would fear her, ever believing the High Priestess had power over all their lives. But she could not leave the hut. There was nothing to do but sit, waiting for the end that was soon to come.

  Wracked with fever, Annin’s body faded quickly. Each breath came at great effort, her heart failing. Tashi could do nothing but watch. As the sun disappeared from the sky, Annin sighed softly to the evening’s first star, her soul released to the night. Tashi laid her head against her sister’s chest and sobbed, too grief-stricken to utter a sound. Her sister and dearest friend was gone forever.

  “Tashi, you must tend her soul,” the doula whispered softly, still clutching the baby to her breast. “She must find her way to the life that follows.”

  Tashi shot up from the ground, a fire in her eyes. “I know my duty,” she spat. Without another word, the priestess pulled her sister’s arms, forcing the girl into a sitting position. Bending Annin’s knees, she pushed them against the girl’s chest. Positioning the girl’s arms around her knees, she whispered a prayer for the dead. Her sister had been ever faithful to the gods, and Tashi would honor her as such.

  Wrapping the woolen blanket around her sister’
s body, Tashi pulled it taut. Annin’s body would sit in prayer posture throughout the ceremony to come. Stepping outside the hut, Tashi looked upon the faces of her tribe. Many had gathered outside the young mother’s hut, offering their support to one in need.

  “Annin’s soul has departed,” Tashi announced. “Who will carry her to the pyre?”

  Three large men stepped forward, one of them Annin’s mate. Their heads held low, they spoke no words as they entered the hut and gently lifted the young woman’s body. Tashi led the procession, followed by her sister’s shell. The rest of the villagers followed single file, bearing torches to light the darkness.

  High on a hill stood a mound of stones, the only permanent structure made by these nomadic people. Annin’s body was set upon it, and the men backed away in silence. Despite her growing dizziness, Tashi began the death chant, beginning with a single mournful cry to the darkness. Two women joined at her side, bearing the wooden masks of death. Together, the trio donned the masks, representing the three judges one meets in the life to come. One face of sorrow, one of anger, and one of joy. They danced among the villagers, crying to the night, their voices shrieking.

  For nearly an hour, the dance continued, all the while Tashi’s head continued throbbing. Her neck was stiff, her skin too hot. The dance could not end soon enough. The dancers dropped to the ground, landing on their knees and lowering their heads. The villagers followed suit, kneeling before the mound.