Read Online The Herald of Autumn (Echoes of the Untold Age Book 1) by JM Guillen - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: JM Guillen
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thousand tiny cruelties. Discomforts flared
into anger, and love gave way to selfishness.
The darkness fed upon their glamour.
“As yeh must know, these creatures
feed upon a person’s Medicine. Everywhere I looked, I saw the people slowly
dyin’. We walked among the town until all were abed, until the town was empty.”
He gave me a dark look. “That’s when we saw it. Saw her.”
Rail thin, she looked like nothing
but skin stretched over dry bones. Her hair was withered, falling out in
clumps. Her arms reached for me, awkward and spindly, and her eyes bled madness
and despair.
I feared as she roared at me. It was
exactly as it had been at Jillian’s tree. She sensed me, somehow. She hungered
for my Medicine. She felt me, even as the dancer-woman and I watched from
hiding.
She skittered toward me like an
insect, moving in strange jerks and twitches. In moments, she was on us,
tearing at me with those strange claws.
“I wasn’t afraid enough ,
Tommy. That was my problem. But why should I have been? I, who stood on the
front lines as yer kind arrived from across the sea. I, who fought the
Thunderbird with nothing more than trickery and words.” He paused to evaluate
my reaction. “Why should I have been afraid?”
“I wasn’t afraid either.” My voice
sounded hollow. “I thought it posed little enough danger; I was so much quicker
than it was.”
“There’s nothing more dangerous to
our kind, Herald.” His grey eyes peered through me. “We are what they consume.”
I was there, in the cold street, with
Ses’kia. The creature lunged toward us, as if it had somehow scented us on the
wind. I tried to push the dancer behind me, even as she was trying to drag me
away.
“You cannot, Illari. She is too
strong.” She begged with tears in her eyes.
I would not listen. I was a fool.
I brought forth my spear, constructed
of stories and songs. I called to my armor, woven of little more than secrets
and whispered words. With the kind of bravery held by children and the mad, I
strode forward to meet the woman.
(To meet the Wendigo)
“The Wendigo.” I was stunned, feeling
the word hidden behind Coyote’s story. “Is that what they are? Wendigo?”
He shook his head. “Thought so m’self
for a time. They fit the mold well enough. Wendigo is a ravenous spirit, a
cannibal. At the time, I thought to myself that ‘ravenous’ was a perfect
description for the half-starved creature.” He watched the dancing fire.
“Hungry it was, but Wendigo it was not.” He drew a long breath. “Ses’kia’s folk
called them ‘Shaediin.’”
Her strength was incredible.
Everything I threw against her, she drank into herself. The shine of my spear
darkened whenever I struck her. My armor rotted where she grasped at me with
talons of darkness and cold.
The pain outshone anything I could
have imagined.
She was the emptiness, the rot that
was at the core of every man, woman, and child in the town.
“Illari!” Ses’kia’s voice pleaded.
“You cannot defeat her. Not here and now!”
I was stubborn, however. Though my
attacks fell to naught against her, I defended against her strikes. We sparred
our way around the town, with her empty, hollow cries boring into the shadows
of my mind.
She toyed with me like the Jaguar
with her prey. Soon, her cries began driving into my mind, splinter after
splinter of pain and madness. I could feel the nothingness that she was begin
to take root. The very sound of her wail grasped inside me with cold fingers
and tore at my heart.
The fire in my spear dimmed even more.
“Illari!” Ses’kia panicked.
So did I.
A strange, hollow, sucking noise
tumbled from her gaping mouth, I fought to pull away from her. I could not, as
if I were somehow held.
She drank, and horror washed over me.
I felt myself diminish . She
drank from me stories of old, taking memory, Medicine, and secrets only I knew.
She ripped them from my mind and heart, and they screamed
into anger, and love gave way to selfishness.
The darkness fed upon their glamour.
“As yeh must know, these creatures
feed upon a person’s Medicine. Everywhere I looked, I saw the people slowly
dyin’. We walked among the town until all were abed, until the town was empty.”
He gave me a dark look. “That’s when we saw it. Saw her.”
Rail thin, she looked like nothing
but skin stretched over dry bones. Her hair was withered, falling out in
clumps. Her arms reached for me, awkward and spindly, and her eyes bled madness
and despair.
I feared as she roared at me. It was
exactly as it had been at Jillian’s tree. She sensed me, somehow. She hungered
for my Medicine. She felt me, even as the dancer-woman and I watched from
hiding.
She skittered toward me like an
insect, moving in strange jerks and twitches. In moments, she was on us,
tearing at me with those strange claws.
“I wasn’t afraid enough ,
Tommy. That was my problem. But why should I have been? I, who stood on the
front lines as yer kind arrived from across the sea. I, who fought the
Thunderbird with nothing more than trickery and words.” He paused to evaluate
my reaction. “Why should I have been afraid?”
“I wasn’t afraid either.” My voice
sounded hollow. “I thought it posed little enough danger; I was so much quicker
than it was.”
“There’s nothing more dangerous to
our kind, Herald.” His grey eyes peered through me. “We are what they consume.”
I was there, in the cold street, with
Ses’kia. The creature lunged toward us, as if it had somehow scented us on the
wind. I tried to push the dancer behind me, even as she was trying to drag me
away.
“You cannot, Illari. She is too
strong.” She begged with tears in her eyes.
I would not listen. I was a fool.
I brought forth my spear, constructed
of stories and songs. I called to my armor, woven of little more than secrets
and whispered words. With the kind of bravery held by children and the mad, I
strode forward to meet the woman.
(To meet the Wendigo)
“The Wendigo.” I was stunned, feeling
the word hidden behind Coyote’s story. “Is that what they are? Wendigo?”
He shook his head. “Thought so m’self
for a time. They fit the mold well enough. Wendigo is a ravenous spirit, a
cannibal. At the time, I thought to myself that ‘ravenous’ was a perfect
description for the half-starved creature.” He watched the dancing fire.
“Hungry it was, but Wendigo it was not.” He drew a long breath. “Ses’kia’s folk
called them ‘Shaediin.’”
Her strength was incredible.
Everything I threw against her, she drank into herself. The shine of my spear
darkened whenever I struck her. My armor rotted where she grasped at me with
talons of darkness and cold.
The pain outshone anything I could
have imagined.
She was the emptiness, the rot that
was at the core of every man, woman, and child in the town.
“Illari!” Ses’kia’s voice pleaded.
“You cannot defeat her. Not here and now!”
I was stubborn, however. Though my
attacks fell to naught against her, I defended against her strikes. We sparred
our way around the town, with her empty, hollow cries boring into the shadows
of my mind.
She toyed with me like the Jaguar
with her prey. Soon, her cries began driving into my mind, splinter after
splinter of pain and madness. I could feel the nothingness that she was begin
to take root. The very sound of her wail grasped inside me with cold fingers
and tore at my heart.
The fire in my spear dimmed even more.
“Illari!” Ses’kia panicked.
So did I.
A strange, hollow, sucking noise
tumbled from her gaping mouth, I fought to pull away from her. I could not, as
if I were somehow held.
She drank, and horror washed over me.
I felt myself diminish . She
drank from me stories of old, taking memory, Medicine, and secrets only I knew.
She ripped them from my mind and heart, and they screamed
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