Read Online A Thread of Time: Firesetter, Book 1 by J. Naomi Ay - Free Book Online Page A

us, he would have
announced this before.  Instead, I began to plan our journey, our trek to the
river and our voyage to the sea, hoping the wind and tides would take us where
we needed to go. 
    “If the wind is kind to us, I think we
should arrive in the motherland in less than a week.”
    “I agree,” Dov said.  “The winds will push
us all the way there.  Maybe, a giant wave will come and we will ride it like a
great, galloping horse.”
    “What do you think, Amyr?  What does the
future tell of our voyage?”  I looked again to my cousin, whose opinion I
trusted above all.
    Amyr closed his eyes.  He yawned and
stretched, his fists balled.
    “The winds will be kind,” he said after a
bit.  “But, the sea is always cruel.  We have no choice, though.  If we stay
here, we will surely die.”
     
    We ate a handful of wild berries, tiny
blue ones that would have been better if they ripened another week.  Pellen
apologized as if it was his fault we were without food.  Lifting Amyr into his
arms, he bid us follow the other villagers further into the woodlands. 
    Although they tried to keep their voices
low, our neighbors argued incessantly.  If any of the Korelesk army had been
about, surely they would have found us by the loud hissing of their voices. 
    Eventually, before nightfall, a shouting
match ensued, whereupon our group broke into two camps.  Those that wanted to
walk to the sea, and those that wanted to turn and fight, decided they were
better off without each other.
    It was then that we ducked away.
    “They won’t notice us now,” Pellen hissed,
pulling my arm.  In turn, I grabbed Dov’s hand and we scrambled into the brush,
our neighbors argument following us for quite a distance. 
    We walked slowly since it was already dusk
and we were exhausted after a sleepless night, as well as a day spent stumbling
over branches and logs with little food in our bellies.  My arms and legs were
scratched in a million places and where they weren’t, mosquitos had sought to
bite.  But, as bad a condition as I was in, poor Pellen looked as if he would
soon collapse. 
    “Let me carry Amyr for a while,” I
offered, but Pellen refused, shifting my cousin onto his back.  Amyr’s head lay
upon his father’s shoulder, but his eyes were open as if watching all we
passed.  Every once in a while, they seemed to flicker, a tiny flame igniting
deep inside.  Every once in a while, he would lift his head and smile,
prompting Dov to giggle as if the two shared a secret.
     
    We emerged from the forest up river of the
village when the mother moon was still chasing the child moon from the early
morning sky.  There was just enough light reflecting off the water to send
ghostly shadows across our path.  They teased our tired eyes and fooled our
overwrought minds into thinking they were more than just tricks of light.
    “What’s that?” Dov cried, when a night
bird rustled in the trees behind us.
    “Is someone there?” Pellen whispered, when
a cat leapt from a doorway into our path.
    We made our way to the wharf in our own
ghostly procession where my boat waited patiently, bobbing lazily against the
dock.
    “Go aboard,” I told Pellen.  “You can take
Amyr into the cabin.  There is a bunk for him to sleep.  It will be much more
comfortable than these hard benches.
    “I’ll help you,” Dov insisted, anxiously
jumping for the dock lines, when suddenly, behind us, we heard a man’s voice. 
    “Halt!” he cried, illuminating the night
with his torch.  “Don’t move or I’ll shoot you!  Stay where you are!”
    “Who are you?” another voice demanded.
    “Go quickly, Jan,” Pellen hissed, as I
climbed upon the foredeck and made to hoist my sail. 
    In the meantime, Dov had released all the
lines and gave the boat a push with his foot.  After which, he leapt into the
air, landing squarely in the center of the boat.  We rocked violently for a
moment, as shots followed us from the shore. 
    “Go,