Read Online Tales of Noreela 04: The Island by Tim Lebbon - Free Book Online
Authors: Tim Lebbon
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timber, pausing here and there when they reached the remains of a building, investigating, then moving on. If they did pull someone out of the mud or water, they were usually dead.
The water was back down to normal sea level, and the dawn revealed the fate of the harbor in full. The mole was broken in two places, the rest of it battered and missing huge blocks of stone. Most buildings across the harborfront had been demolished, their debris adding to the destructive waveas it had surged inland. Farther away from the sea the destruction lessened, though even far up the valley, close to the tall Helio Bridge, buildings low to the river had lost roofs, windows and doors, and many walls had crumbled and fallen.
Drakeman’s Hill finished in a sheer drop thirty steps high where the wave had undermined the ground, carrying away the hillside and a score of buildings. Survivors had rigged a rope ladder, and Practitioners were using machines to pile rubble against the new cliff to provide an unsteady staircase.
Kel and Namior stood in the Moon Temple’s garden, looking down at the village and trying to appreciate the full extent of the damage. Namior shook, though not from the cold. Kel hugged her.
And then he heard a panicked, terrified voice. And he already knew something of its meaning, because Kel always expected the worst.
“What in the Black is
that?”
The shout came from someone farther down the slope, but it was taken up by others, and soon Kel saw a man amidst the shattered roof of a house pointing out to sea.
“Another wave?” Namior asked, eyes wide.
“No,” Kel said. He climbed the wall surrounding the Temple yard so that he could see over the neighboring houses. “Not of water.”
“What do you mean?”
Kel looked. He could not speak. For a beat he forgot to breathe, but then shock punched his chest and he gasped.
“Kel, what do you see?” Namior was scrabbling at the wall, but all her strength had gone.
For a moment, he thought the sea had grown spikes.
“Kel?”
“Masts,” he said, “and sails.” They were still far out, but he could see from their movement that they were sailing in toward Noreela. He guessed there were thirty of them, maybe more.
“Whose sails?”
Whose indeed?
Kel thought of the Core, and how he had fled it, and how its fears and aims were still so deeply embedded within him that, somehow, he had always known that this moment would come.
He just never expected it would happen to him.
Beyond the sails, on a horizon that had forever been long, straight and unhindered by anything other than clouds and the dreams of what lay beyond, there sat an island.
Chapter Two
on stranger shores
NAMIOR INSISTED THAT Kel lift her onto the wall so she could see for herself. Her heart was fluttering with excitement and unease, and childhood myths harried at her memory. As yet, the shock of what had happened did not allow them to manifest fully.
The masts looked like trees growing out of the sea, swaying to different breezes. Their branches were dark, their colors as yet uncertain, and from their peaks flickered small shapes that could only be flags.
Behind them, several miles out to sea, was an island.
She remembered one of those myths, then. Before she died, her grandmother used to whisper the story to her beforeputting her to bed, drawing vague violet shapes in the air with sparks and shadows.
The Violet Dogs came ashore like a wave of disease, more than willing to spill their noxious living-dead blood because they knew it would do them no harm. They fought through the first lines of defenses thrown up by the tribes that lived on Noreela way back then… strange, small, weak people who did not yet know the land and had no inkling of the magic it could give them. The Violet Dogs ate the dead and living alike, strengthening their bridgehead, though in truth none was required, because they were already the masters of that place. The Sleeping Gods did not stir, the Nax were
The water was back down to normal sea level, and the dawn revealed the fate of the harbor in full. The mole was broken in two places, the rest of it battered and missing huge blocks of stone. Most buildings across the harborfront had been demolished, their debris adding to the destructive waveas it had surged inland. Farther away from the sea the destruction lessened, though even far up the valley, close to the tall Helio Bridge, buildings low to the river had lost roofs, windows and doors, and many walls had crumbled and fallen.
Drakeman’s Hill finished in a sheer drop thirty steps high where the wave had undermined the ground, carrying away the hillside and a score of buildings. Survivors had rigged a rope ladder, and Practitioners were using machines to pile rubble against the new cliff to provide an unsteady staircase.
Kel and Namior stood in the Moon Temple’s garden, looking down at the village and trying to appreciate the full extent of the damage. Namior shook, though not from the cold. Kel hugged her.
And then he heard a panicked, terrified voice. And he already knew something of its meaning, because Kel always expected the worst.
“What in the Black is
that?”
The shout came from someone farther down the slope, but it was taken up by others, and soon Kel saw a man amidst the shattered roof of a house pointing out to sea.
“Another wave?” Namior asked, eyes wide.
“No,” Kel said. He climbed the wall surrounding the Temple yard so that he could see over the neighboring houses. “Not of water.”
“What do you mean?”
Kel looked. He could not speak. For a beat he forgot to breathe, but then shock punched his chest and he gasped.
“Kel, what do you see?” Namior was scrabbling at the wall, but all her strength had gone.
For a moment, he thought the sea had grown spikes.
“Kel?”
“Masts,” he said, “and sails.” They were still far out, but he could see from their movement that they were sailing in toward Noreela. He guessed there were thirty of them, maybe more.
“Whose sails?”
Whose indeed?
Kel thought of the Core, and how he had fled it, and how its fears and aims were still so deeply embedded within him that, somehow, he had always known that this moment would come.
He just never expected it would happen to him.
Beyond the sails, on a horizon that had forever been long, straight and unhindered by anything other than clouds and the dreams of what lay beyond, there sat an island.
Chapter Two
on stranger shores
NAMIOR INSISTED THAT Kel lift her onto the wall so she could see for herself. Her heart was fluttering with excitement and unease, and childhood myths harried at her memory. As yet, the shock of what had happened did not allow them to manifest fully.
The masts looked like trees growing out of the sea, swaying to different breezes. Their branches were dark, their colors as yet uncertain, and from their peaks flickered small shapes that could only be flags.
Behind them, several miles out to sea, was an island.
She remembered one of those myths, then. Before she died, her grandmother used to whisper the story to her beforeputting her to bed, drawing vague violet shapes in the air with sparks and shadows.
The Violet Dogs came ashore like a wave of disease, more than willing to spill their noxious living-dead blood because they knew it would do them no harm. They fought through the first lines of defenses thrown up by the tribes that lived on Noreela way back then… strange, small, weak people who did not yet know the land and had no inkling of the magic it could give them. The Violet Dogs ate the dead and living alike, strengthening their bridgehead, though in truth none was required, because they were already the masters of that place. The Sleeping Gods did not stir, the Nax were
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