Read Online Darkness Rising (The Endless War Book 2) by D.K. Holmberg - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: D.K. Holmberg
Ads: Link
those shadows. They weren’t real. Even if they were, she shouldn’t—she couldn’t— fear something as simple as shadows, regardless of the strange shadow man and the seductive way he’d tried calling her across the waste.
“I don’t know what you’re capable of,” her father said.
Ciara blinked, noting the question mixed into the statement.
“What happened to them?” she asked.
“Water, at first. The Stormcallers claimed rains would come, and they did, but it wasn’t enough. Not to sustain us.”
The rains never provided enough to sustain the village. Only the Great Storms, and it had been years since the last Great Storm, long enough that Ciara wasn’t certain she would even know what to do when the next came. But the rains provided the chance to find more water, to add to their stores, if only the nya’shin were able to detect it enough.
If the village withered and died like so much else in these lands because they failed to find water, then their loss truly was her fault. She had taken Fas with her on the wild hope that they would find water within the waste. Without the nya’shin, who would remain to find and collect the water?
“You blame yourself,” her father said.
“How can I not?”
“You took a chance that none had been willing to take. You wanted to bring your people to a place where they would not have to constantly search for water, give them a chance to flourish.” He tapped his j’na once, twice, and each time the sound filled the cavern more than it should. Light flashed from the osidan as he did, and Ciara wondered if he twisted the tip enough to somehow catch the light, or if he did something different that she couldn’t tell. “The fault is not with you. Nor is it with the Stormbringer.”
“Then who?” she asked.
Her father looked past her once more, and looked to Fas. “When the rains finally came, others visited. At first there were only a few. Pairs of people dressed not like shapers of Ter, but wearing strange clothing, wraps like our elouf, but not dressed for the desert.”
Ciara’s heart skipped a beat. There were others of Rens, but the villages were now scattered so far apart as to make them separate peoples. Unless some of the other villages had begun to wander. If that was the case, maybe Rens could be reunited and the people find a way to band together, find a source of water where none would have to wander, perhaps safety where they didn’t need to fear the attacks from Ter.
Seeing her father’s face and hearing the way that he said it, she didn’t think that was what he meant. There was sadness in his eyes, and darkness.
“Who were they?”
Her father didn’t answer, his eyes taking on a faraway and lost expression, a look that was so foreign for him. As the ala’shin, he was always so confident, so capable, that for her to see him any other way was difficult for her.
“They took our healthiest,” Fas said from behind her. “They came at night and disappeared before we knew what was happening. Young, boy and girl, man and woman. They didn’t care so long as they were hale.” His voice caught as he said the last.
Ciara looked to Fas, noting his muscular build even beneath his elouf. “Why not you?”
His eyes took on a haunted expression. She could see that he’d wondered the same, or maybe he didn’t need to wonder. “The return from the waste weakened me. When they came, I was…” He took a deep breath and forced a swallow. “I was too weak for them to bother with. I couldn’t even use water against them, not that we had enough for me to even attempt.”
She tried a water sensing on him and found nothing but traces of sickness, yet something still felt off with him. “Not Ter?”
Her father took a breath and tapped his j’na on the ground in three quick taps. He stood, holding the j’na as more of a cane, pushing himself to stand. “Come,” he said as he passed her on his way out of the tavern.
“Where is he
“I don’t know what you’re capable of,” her father said.
Ciara blinked, noting the question mixed into the statement.
“What happened to them?” she asked.
“Water, at first. The Stormcallers claimed rains would come, and they did, but it wasn’t enough. Not to sustain us.”
The rains never provided enough to sustain the village. Only the Great Storms, and it had been years since the last Great Storm, long enough that Ciara wasn’t certain she would even know what to do when the next came. But the rains provided the chance to find more water, to add to their stores, if only the nya’shin were able to detect it enough.
If the village withered and died like so much else in these lands because they failed to find water, then their loss truly was her fault. She had taken Fas with her on the wild hope that they would find water within the waste. Without the nya’shin, who would remain to find and collect the water?
“You blame yourself,” her father said.
“How can I not?”
“You took a chance that none had been willing to take. You wanted to bring your people to a place where they would not have to constantly search for water, give them a chance to flourish.” He tapped his j’na once, twice, and each time the sound filled the cavern more than it should. Light flashed from the osidan as he did, and Ciara wondered if he twisted the tip enough to somehow catch the light, or if he did something different that she couldn’t tell. “The fault is not with you. Nor is it with the Stormbringer.”
“Then who?” she asked.
Her father looked past her once more, and looked to Fas. “When the rains finally came, others visited. At first there were only a few. Pairs of people dressed not like shapers of Ter, but wearing strange clothing, wraps like our elouf, but not dressed for the desert.”
Ciara’s heart skipped a beat. There were others of Rens, but the villages were now scattered so far apart as to make them separate peoples. Unless some of the other villages had begun to wander. If that was the case, maybe Rens could be reunited and the people find a way to band together, find a source of water where none would have to wander, perhaps safety where they didn’t need to fear the attacks from Ter.
Seeing her father’s face and hearing the way that he said it, she didn’t think that was what he meant. There was sadness in his eyes, and darkness.
“Who were they?”
Her father didn’t answer, his eyes taking on a faraway and lost expression, a look that was so foreign for him. As the ala’shin, he was always so confident, so capable, that for her to see him any other way was difficult for her.
“They took our healthiest,” Fas said from behind her. “They came at night and disappeared before we knew what was happening. Young, boy and girl, man and woman. They didn’t care so long as they were hale.” His voice caught as he said the last.
Ciara looked to Fas, noting his muscular build even beneath his elouf. “Why not you?”
His eyes took on a haunted expression. She could see that he’d wondered the same, or maybe he didn’t need to wonder. “The return from the waste weakened me. When they came, I was…” He took a deep breath and forced a swallow. “I was too weak for them to bother with. I couldn’t even use water against them, not that we had enough for me to even attempt.”
She tried a water sensing on him and found nothing but traces of sickness, yet something still felt off with him. “Not Ter?”
Her father took a breath and tapped his j’na on the ground in three quick taps. He stood, holding the j’na as more of a cane, pushing himself to stand. “Come,” he said as he passed her on his way out of the tavern.
“Where is he
Similar Books
