Read Online Tanza by Amanda Greenslade - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Amanda Greenslade
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responded. ‘I’m certain that’s what happened to some of the stolen Jarians.’
‘How?’ she asked.
‘The very first level of Zeika initiation is a warder,’ I began. ‘Wards can be used to block the use of our magic. They just ward one relayer, tell their message to the other and get them to send it. Then they ward the second relayer and get the receiver at the other end to repeat it back to the first relayer to ensure the message was received unaltered.’
She stuck out her bottom lip and nodded, seemingly impressed. A slight flush covered the skin of her face and her deep blue eyes held mine. For a moment, I couldn’t look away. Henter was strapped to her back alongside a quiver of black arrows. It reminded me of the makeshift clasp I had made from the quiver belt for Sarlice’s shoulder injury just over seven weeks ago. It seemed like a much longer period of time than that.
‘You’re wearing your warbow,’ I observed.
‘I try not to go anywhere without Henter,’ she responded, ‘and we’ve got a meeting with a historian in five minutes.’
‘You may yet need a warbow to get us out of that,’ I returned.
She gave me a small smile and gestured to get up. With a groan, I dragged myself up and pulled on a loose white shirt that was crisscrossed from torso to neck with leather rope. I strapped on my sheath and slid Fyschs into it.
My heart raced as Sarlice stepped up to me, but she merely flicked a speck of dirt off my shoulder. I watched the light bouncing off her hair as she walked away from me.
Rekala sensed the racing of my blood, but she clamped down on her curiosity, leaving me to my thoughts. Together, the four of us exited our quarters and made our way through the Hall of Hallows. Once outside, the warmth of the day beat down upon us and I wished I could go shirtless again. It was humid in this low land. Our feet crunched on the rocky ground.
‘We’ve been invited to celebrate the Festival of Rebirth with the locals in two week’s time,’ Sarlice said.
‘Very well,’ I murmured, not sure how I felt about that. It was nice of the Lantaideans to include us, but I was still raw from the loss of Jaria where I had celebrated most of the rebirth festivals of my young life.
Aside from New Day, these five days were the most important days of the year for Kriites all over the world. Day one was remembered for the death of Krii at the altar of the Catacombs of Krii nearly seven hundred years ago. It was generally a day of solitary reflection and fasting. The middle three days were meant for intense dissection of the holy scrolls and discussion of our triune god. During this time, the Kriites remembered the three days of suffering Krii went through at the whim of Zeidarb. The fifth day was a jovial celebration in commemoration of the rebirth of Krii. It often began with a consecration ceremony, which allowed new or young Kriites to invite the wolf to run with them.
I played with Tiaro in my earlobe.
‘Do you think we’re meant to be here?’ I asked her.
She took a moment to gather her thoughts. ‘If you mean, “Do I think Jaria was destined to fall and we were destined to come here all along,” the answer is “No”.’
‘I don’t understand…’
‘I think Krii wanted us to come to Tanza, but I don’t think he caused or condoned what happened to Jaria.’
‘Then why…’
‘It’s like Ciera said, Krii will not interfere directly with Zei until the End Times. Until then, we have to contend with all the evils and all the challenges of this world.’
‘Doesn’t that mean we could fail?’
‘Yes, I think it does,’ Tiaro confirmed. ‘Destiny doesn’t mean whatever happens was meant to happen. It means there is an intended purpose, but it’s up to us to discover it and carry it out.’
‘Well, I hope and pray Krii reveals what I’m supposed to do soon,’ I replied.
Our ‘meeting with a historian’ turned out to be a three-hour-long seminar on the battle
‘How?’ she asked.
‘The very first level of Zeika initiation is a warder,’ I began. ‘Wards can be used to block the use of our magic. They just ward one relayer, tell their message to the other and get them to send it. Then they ward the second relayer and get the receiver at the other end to repeat it back to the first relayer to ensure the message was received unaltered.’
She stuck out her bottom lip and nodded, seemingly impressed. A slight flush covered the skin of her face and her deep blue eyes held mine. For a moment, I couldn’t look away. Henter was strapped to her back alongside a quiver of black arrows. It reminded me of the makeshift clasp I had made from the quiver belt for Sarlice’s shoulder injury just over seven weeks ago. It seemed like a much longer period of time than that.
‘You’re wearing your warbow,’ I observed.
‘I try not to go anywhere without Henter,’ she responded, ‘and we’ve got a meeting with a historian in five minutes.’
‘You may yet need a warbow to get us out of that,’ I returned.
She gave me a small smile and gestured to get up. With a groan, I dragged myself up and pulled on a loose white shirt that was crisscrossed from torso to neck with leather rope. I strapped on my sheath and slid Fyschs into it.
My heart raced as Sarlice stepped up to me, but she merely flicked a speck of dirt off my shoulder. I watched the light bouncing off her hair as she walked away from me.
Rekala sensed the racing of my blood, but she clamped down on her curiosity, leaving me to my thoughts. Together, the four of us exited our quarters and made our way through the Hall of Hallows. Once outside, the warmth of the day beat down upon us and I wished I could go shirtless again. It was humid in this low land. Our feet crunched on the rocky ground.
‘We’ve been invited to celebrate the Festival of Rebirth with the locals in two week’s time,’ Sarlice said.
‘Very well,’ I murmured, not sure how I felt about that. It was nice of the Lantaideans to include us, but I was still raw from the loss of Jaria where I had celebrated most of the rebirth festivals of my young life.
Aside from New Day, these five days were the most important days of the year for Kriites all over the world. Day one was remembered for the death of Krii at the altar of the Catacombs of Krii nearly seven hundred years ago. It was generally a day of solitary reflection and fasting. The middle three days were meant for intense dissection of the holy scrolls and discussion of our triune god. During this time, the Kriites remembered the three days of suffering Krii went through at the whim of Zeidarb. The fifth day was a jovial celebration in commemoration of the rebirth of Krii. It often began with a consecration ceremony, which allowed new or young Kriites to invite the wolf to run with them.
I played with Tiaro in my earlobe.
‘Do you think we’re meant to be here?’ I asked her.
She took a moment to gather her thoughts. ‘If you mean, “Do I think Jaria was destined to fall and we were destined to come here all along,” the answer is “No”.’
‘I don’t understand…’
‘I think Krii wanted us to come to Tanza, but I don’t think he caused or condoned what happened to Jaria.’
‘Then why…’
‘It’s like Ciera said, Krii will not interfere directly with Zei until the End Times. Until then, we have to contend with all the evils and all the challenges of this world.’
‘Doesn’t that mean we could fail?’
‘Yes, I think it does,’ Tiaro confirmed. ‘Destiny doesn’t mean whatever happens was meant to happen. It means there is an intended purpose, but it’s up to us to discover it and carry it out.’
‘Well, I hope and pray Krii reveals what I’m supposed to do soon,’ I replied.
Our ‘meeting with a historian’ turned out to be a three-hour-long seminar on the battle
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