Read Online A Land Of Fire (Book 12) by Morgan Rice - Free Book Online
Authors: Morgan Rice
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water,
signaling their conversation was done. She heard footsteps behind her as the
men slowly dispersed; she heard commands ordered, heard them to begin to turn
about the ship, as she’d requested.
Before they turned, Gwen peered one last
time into layers of fog so thick, she could not even see the horizon. She
wondered what lay beyond, if anything. Was Guwayne out there, somewhere beyond?
Or was there nothing but a vast and empty sea? As Gwen watched, she saw a small
rainbow appear in the midst of the fog, and she felt her heart breaking. She
felt that Guwayne was with her. That he was giving her a sign. And she knew she
would never, ever stop searching until she found him.
Behind her, Gwen heard the creaking of
ropes, the hoisting of sails, and she slowly felt the ship turn, heading in the
opposite direction. She felt her heart remaining behind as she unwillingly was
brought back in the other direction. She looked back, the entire time, over her
shoulder, staring at the rainbow, wondering: was Guwayne somewhere beyond?
*
Guwayne rocked alone in the small boat
in the vast sea, carried on the waves, up and down, as he had been for hour
after hour, the ocean current pulling him in no particular direction. Above him
the tattered canvas sail whipped aimlessly in the wind. Guwayne, on his back,
looked straight up at it, and he watched it, mesmerized.
Guwayne had stopped crying long ago,
ever since he had lost sight of his mother, and he now lay there, wrapped in
his blanket, all alone in the empty sea, without his parents, with nothing left
but the rocking of the waves and this tattered sail.
The rocking of his boat had relaxed
him—and as it suddenly stopped, he felt a rush of panic. The bow stopped moving
as it lodged itself firmly on a beach, in the sand, the waves bringing it
ashore. It landed on a foreign, exotic isle way north of the Upper Isles, near
the far northern edge of the Empire. Upset from the rocking motion being over,
Guwayne, his boat stuck in the sand, began to cry.
Guwayne cried and cried, until the cry
evolved into a piercing wail. No one came to answer him.
Guwayne looked up and saw great
birds—vultures—circling again and again, looking down at him, getting closer
and closer. Sensing danger, his wails increased.
One of the birds dived down for him, and
Guwayne braced himself; but suddenly it flapped its wings, startled by
something, and flew away.
A moment later, Guwayne saw a face
looking down at him—then another, then another. Soon, dozens of faces, exotic
faces, from a primitive tribe, with huge ivory hoops through their noses,
stared down at him. Guwayne’s cries increased as they jabbed spears at his
boat. Guwayne screamed louder and louder. He wanted his mother.
“A sign from the seas,” one of the men
said. “Just as our prophecies have foretold.”
“It is a gift from the God of Amma,” another
said.
“The gods must want an offering,” said
another.
“It is a test! We must give back what is
given to us,” said another.
“We must give back what is given to us!”
repeated the rest, clacking their spears against the boat.
Guwayne wailed louder and louder, but it
didn’t do any good. One of them reached down, a tall skinny man wearing no
shirt, with green skin and glowing yellow eyes, and scooped Guwayne up.
Guwayne shrieked at the feel of his
skin, like sandpaper, as the man held him tight and breathed down his bad
breath on him.
“A sacrifice for Amma!” he cried.
The men cheered, and as one they all
turned and began to carry Guwayne away from the beach, toward the mountains,
their sights set on the far side of the island, on the volcano, still smoking.
None of them stopped to turn around, to look back at the ocean from which
they’d left.
But if they had, even for an instant,
they would have seen an unusually thick fog, a rainbow in its center, hardly
fifty yards away. Behind them, unnoticed by anyone, the fog slowly lifted until
finally the skies were
signaling their conversation was done. She heard footsteps behind her as the
men slowly dispersed; she heard commands ordered, heard them to begin to turn
about the ship, as she’d requested.
Before they turned, Gwen peered one last
time into layers of fog so thick, she could not even see the horizon. She
wondered what lay beyond, if anything. Was Guwayne out there, somewhere beyond?
Or was there nothing but a vast and empty sea? As Gwen watched, she saw a small
rainbow appear in the midst of the fog, and she felt her heart breaking. She
felt that Guwayne was with her. That he was giving her a sign. And she knew she
would never, ever stop searching until she found him.
Behind her, Gwen heard the creaking of
ropes, the hoisting of sails, and she slowly felt the ship turn, heading in the
opposite direction. She felt her heart remaining behind as she unwillingly was
brought back in the other direction. She looked back, the entire time, over her
shoulder, staring at the rainbow, wondering: was Guwayne somewhere beyond?
*
Guwayne rocked alone in the small boat
in the vast sea, carried on the waves, up and down, as he had been for hour
after hour, the ocean current pulling him in no particular direction. Above him
the tattered canvas sail whipped aimlessly in the wind. Guwayne, on his back,
looked straight up at it, and he watched it, mesmerized.
Guwayne had stopped crying long ago,
ever since he had lost sight of his mother, and he now lay there, wrapped in
his blanket, all alone in the empty sea, without his parents, with nothing left
but the rocking of the waves and this tattered sail.
The rocking of his boat had relaxed
him—and as it suddenly stopped, he felt a rush of panic. The bow stopped moving
as it lodged itself firmly on a beach, in the sand, the waves bringing it
ashore. It landed on a foreign, exotic isle way north of the Upper Isles, near
the far northern edge of the Empire. Upset from the rocking motion being over,
Guwayne, his boat stuck in the sand, began to cry.
Guwayne cried and cried, until the cry
evolved into a piercing wail. No one came to answer him.
Guwayne looked up and saw great
birds—vultures—circling again and again, looking down at him, getting closer
and closer. Sensing danger, his wails increased.
One of the birds dived down for him, and
Guwayne braced himself; but suddenly it flapped its wings, startled by
something, and flew away.
A moment later, Guwayne saw a face
looking down at him—then another, then another. Soon, dozens of faces, exotic
faces, from a primitive tribe, with huge ivory hoops through their noses,
stared down at him. Guwayne’s cries increased as they jabbed spears at his
boat. Guwayne screamed louder and louder. He wanted his mother.
“A sign from the seas,” one of the men
said. “Just as our prophecies have foretold.”
“It is a gift from the God of Amma,” another
said.
“The gods must want an offering,” said
another.
“It is a test! We must give back what is
given to us,” said another.
“We must give back what is given to us!”
repeated the rest, clacking their spears against the boat.
Guwayne wailed louder and louder, but it
didn’t do any good. One of them reached down, a tall skinny man wearing no
shirt, with green skin and glowing yellow eyes, and scooped Guwayne up.
Guwayne shrieked at the feel of his
skin, like sandpaper, as the man held him tight and breathed down his bad
breath on him.
“A sacrifice for Amma!” he cried.
The men cheered, and as one they all
turned and began to carry Guwayne away from the beach, toward the mountains,
their sights set on the far side of the island, on the volcano, still smoking.
None of them stopped to turn around, to look back at the ocean from which
they’d left.
But if they had, even for an instant,
they would have seen an unusually thick fog, a rainbow in its center, hardly
fifty yards away. Behind them, unnoticed by anyone, the fog slowly lifted until
finally the skies were
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