Cradle of Sea and Soil Read online

  The center of the screaming storm slowly grew smaller; the relative calm of his sanctuary was being swallowed by the storm’s absolute wrath and movement. Narune panicked.

  Ikenna saw something on Narune’s face and panicked too. Ikenna sprang forward, spear swinging with all his strength.

  Narune caught the blunted spear on a forearm, filling the air with the thump of wood slamming against flesh. An acknowledgment of the blow rang in Narune’s head, but not pain or fear, and the only thing that responded was a burning in his chest and a need to move.

  Narune lunged forward, quick enough that Ikenna jerked in shock, and grabbed him before the youth could react. Narune growled, then threw him over his shoulder in one fluid and easy motion.

  The spear tore from Ikenna’s hand and everyone stared as he was flung like a toy, further and harder than any warrior should have been able to throw another person.

  Narune panted, his sweat-drenched hair clinging to his face. His head hurt so much.

  The other youths moved forward, blunted spears poised ahead of them.

  A bestial growl pushed free from Narune’s lips, surprising even him. Narune eyed them with trembling limbs, tail snapping side to side behind him. The screaming storm soaked deep into his bones and sinew. Soon, Narune feared, it would also swallow his mind completely, but what could he do against a such power but try to outlast it?

  Narune felt himself surge forward to meet the charge of the other youths. He ignored a spear as it slammed into his jaw and opened a gash, then continued and slammed into a girl’s shoulder. She yelped and spun from the force.

  Narune turned as she tumbled to the ground, his arms already moving. He caught another spear as it swung down, tore it from the boy’s grasp, then smashed the butt of the spear into his head.

  The boy’s eyes rolled up into his head as he dropped into a heap of his own limbs.

  Narune whirled behind him, catching another warrior on the approach, and his spear cracked into the boy’s face. The youth stumbled, but Narune’s spear was already jabbing down into his shin.

  The youth screamed and fell to the ground while clutching his leg. His eyes were wide as he tried to drag himself away from Narune. The whimpering and the fear on the boy’s face both filled Narune with a foreign, deep pleasure, and he knew there was only one fate for prey.

  He licked his lips as he advanced, aching to see more blood spilled.

  Narune was stopped by Ikenna, who sprinted at him from the edge of the Proving Grounds, his face twisted with his own storm of emotions. Ikenna swung his reclaimed spear, but Narune whirled to catch it with his own heavy swing.

  Both spears broke in two.

  There was a pause, then Ikenna dropped the remains of his spear and shifted into an unarmed combat stance. Narune did the same. They stood at the center of the Proving Grounds now, back where they began. Narune focused intently on Ikenna, but somewhere in the back of his mind he realized that no one else was fighting. They were all staring at him and Ikenna.

  Ikenna led with a strong strike, well-aimed. Narune swung back. Ikenna’s fist crashed into Narune’s jaw, but he felt no pain, only a dull acknowledgment of the blow. Narune caught Ikenna across the gut and forced a grunt from the youth.

  They continued, back and forth, neither of them willing to give in, but it wasn’t long until Ikenna’s body became a mess of wounds and discolored flesh and his attacks slowed. Heartbeats later, the boy gasped, panic and fear finally overwhelming him, and he made a desperate final strike as Narune advanced on him.

  Narune shifted and caught his arm, then threw Ikenna hard to the ground.

  Ikenna remained on his back, gulping air. After a moment, he briefly closed his eyes and shouted, “I surrender!”

  Narune stepped toward him, thunderous, jolting pleasure surging through his veins as he thought of sinking his teeth into the boy’s throat.

  “I said I surrender!” Ikenna cried again, deeper panic coloring his voice as he looked wildly around.

  Narune laughed, took a step, then paused.

  The spiritseers lined along the circle of the Proving Grounds had awakened their Flowing Blades, and he could feel the sorcery churning within their spirits. Sentinels rushed to the inner edges of the platform above, then aimed drawn bows at him.

  The screaming storm only intensified, pure agony and raw power. It didn’t like being cornered, but what could truly corner a storm? Narune slowly slid into stance—and someone grabbed his shoulder.

  He jumped, shocked that he hadn’t sensed their approach, and when he whirled with a snarl he found Kisari staring at him. She was clutching her own head with her other hand and looked terrified, every muscle in her body tense and trembling.

  Your mother warned us about this, she whispered into his mind, but somehow her voice was louder than screams. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. Don’t lose yourself in the storm, Naru. This is what they want to see. What the cacica wanted to show everyone.

  Narune frowned, but then the screaming intensified. He clutched his own head, teeth clenching, and shoved at the swirling walls.

  The star-white screams shifted into a chorus of pleading without warning. They used no words, but their raw emotion begged them to fight until the pain stopped. Narune and Kisari both jolted in shock. Behind the storm surged tsunamis of desperation, confusion, and undiluted terror.

  Kisari retched and fell to the ground.

  Narune stood frozen, every muscle in his body tense, an anxious need to move nearly overwhelming him. His mind rang with a confusing longing to make it all stop, to destroy, and destroy, and destroy until—

  Then Yabisi’s voice cut through to him, even though it was a whispered command. He whirled to glance up at her on the spectator platforms and watched as one of her sentinels handed her a bow. She grinned and drew back an arrow herself, then pointed it down toward them.

  The pleading voices reformed into hot, furious rage, and the shrieks continued to gift him the intoxicating power of the storm within his spirit.

  Yabisi loosened the arrow—to his right.

  Narune whirled and dove without thinking.

  He and Kisari crashed together against the ground as the arrow whirled by, cutting him across his back and shoulder.

  The screams fled, leaving him once more with a calmed center, but they didn’t go away. All his pain and fatigue filled the empty space and Narune closed his eyes against it as it slowly seeped through his body. For a heartbeat, he almost missed the storm.

  No one moved until Ixchel finally glanced around and then went to them. She helped them both back onto their feet and then supported them on her shoulders. “Seas and skies aflame! What was that?” she whispered harshly to Narune, eyes wide. There was a mix of fear and awe in her voice.

  Narune didn’t have the heart or strength to answer her. He leaned against Ixchel, glanced at Kisari at her other side, then frowned as he took in the view around him.

  The spectators wore reflections of Ixchel’s expression, many of them also wide-eyed. The other youths were all staring, but some were still motionless on the ground. The newly arrived menders had grim expressions as they worked their craft.

  The sight made his breath catch.

  Oh, seas aflame. Please. Please tell me I didn’t kill them. Narune glanced around frantically now. Why hadn’t the spiritseers stopped him? Why had the sentinels waited so long to draw bows? He slumped.

  The spiritseers still didn't move, though most of them did appear as if they wanted nothing more than to slice off his head. Narune twisted and found Warmaster Jhul glaring at the cacica, sentinels with spears standing between the two of them.

  But Cacica Yabisi was watching Narune. She was smiling.

  Dumbfounded, Narune could only stare back as she exchanged words with one of her sentinels. After a moment, Cacica Yabisi handed back the bow and spread her arms.

  “Well, am I speaking to the Islandborn half, or…?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he a
nswered bitterly.

  “Oh? Good.” She glanced around at all the silent spectators. “There is your reminder of what the Halfborn really are, and proof that the oaths against them weren’t made out of perverse cruelty.” She then pointed down at Warmaster Jhul. “I'll give you time to think about what you saw, then we’ll see what becomes of your daughter.” Her deep gaze flicked back to Narune. “As for you, you've already made oaths to me. I expect you to keep them. You are also exiled from all of the tribes’ villages and safeholds.”

  “Exile?” shouted a woman from the crowd, then, seeming to remember who she was speaking to, the woman bent at the waist stiffly. “Cacica, I find exile too soft a punishment. Look at the faces of the menders! How many of the youths are already dead? How many might be crippled?”

  Cacica Yabisi turned to the woman and shrugged. “Danger is part of the Ritual of Fang and Feather. The youths themselves chose to face it. This is, in a way, no different than the umoth that attacked them during the Feats.”

  Narune jerked at the comparison, then snarled from beside Ixchel. “It wasn’t on purpose! I don’t know what happened, but I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “I’m sorry about a great many things too,” Cacica Yabisi snapped.

  Narune winced.

  Tessouat stepped into the field and faced him, then gave a shallow bow. “Since you are now exiled and without the cacica’s favor, I am afraid I must expel you from the Ritual.”

  What could he say to that? Yabisi had interrupted, but Narune knew what her defense would be. She would say that he had forced her hand, and that not acting would have been even more dishonorable.

  Narune nodded at Tessouat, and tore himself from Ixchel’s shoulder. She tried to say something, but swallowed it and looked away, and even Kisari merely frowned at him.

  It was a long, lonely walk out of the village.

  Chapter 13

  Colibrí sat whittling in their bohío, naked against the heat. Her son lay on his tatami mat, even though it was already past midday. She paused her work. Another little figurine depicting a halja, beast, or one of the more interesting plants of the forest. It was a craft that calmed her and let her think, but sometimes it earned them a few extra things. This time she was carving a hare, its noise raised in search of predators and food, just as she had seen them do countless times.

  She eyed Narune over the wooden hare. Once, the figurines had been a source of wonder for him. Playthings at first, then pieces of mystery from the forest that he soon wanted to see for himself. She frowned and resumed whittling.

  The past handful of days hadn’t been bright. Narune had returned broken, just as she had feared, but it wasn’t until Kisari had told her what had happened that she understood the depth of Yabisi’s cruelty.

  Colibrí knew Narune would eventually hear the screams. She had talked to him about this on occasion, and worried about it often enough, but she had assumed the screams would pounce on him the same way they had for her; after Narune had earned his adulthood, and then only when he found himself forced into a very dark place.

  But during a combat trial? Alone, without her, out in front of all their people? Colibrí felt herself trembling and she couldn’t tell whether it was from sheer rage or sorrow.

  So she had waited, and oh, had it been hard, but she knew from personal experience that time was the only thing that could begin to heal the wounds inside her son. He needed time to think.

  They both needed time to think.

  Ixchel had been adopted by a spiritseer and rarely came by. Too busy with her training, maybe, or afraid of shaming Narune. Kisari came even less, which pained Colibrí. She suspected Ayo had compelled her daughter from coming to avoid further association with them.

  Kisari reeked of fear and uncertainty whenever she did come, which was understandable. Her father and mother’s conflict with Yabisi was the talk of the village now and had reached even Colibrí’s distant ears.

  As for Colibrí herself, well… she let the scars form and put her mind to the task before her. The Guardian’s words smoldered in her gut, but she knew it was rare for impatience to ever be the right answer.

  The Stillness wouldn't claim victory with just a few days. She had also told everything she had learned to Sanemoro. The sage hadn’t quite believed she had met the Guardian, but he had thrown himself toward convincing the Islandborn to search for answers anyway. It had supposedly required a bit of selective omission, but now Yabisi and the Spiritseer Circle were working against the threat as well.

  Sanemoro had even told her, rather smugly, that the weight was no longer fully on her shoulders alone; spiritseers of the Unseen Flow had gone to test the possibility of sorcerous camouflage. According to Sanemoro, they had grimly reported finding corruption hidden away by intricate spells, though it seemed they had to all but be on top of one before they could dismantle the spell.

  The skill and time needed for such spellcraft had supposedly left the Spiritseer Circle chilled. Even so, they knew for certain now: Someone or something was aiding the spread of Stillness, if not Peacemaker himself.

  The Islandborn already struggled just to contain the infection at the Primordial Wound. Colibrí couldn’t begin to imagine what it would mean if the Stillness had rooted deeply enough elsewhere. At the very least, it would force them to fight across even more fronts, and Yabisi had made it sound as if they were barely holding on as it was.

  But they had a scent now, and a name. Even so, stumbling onto corruption randomly wasn’t going to be an effective enough way to hunt. She needed something to bait Peacemaker or reliably track down the hidden gardens of Stillness quickly.

  And yet, none of that mattered to her more than her many worries about Narune.

  “Naru,” she called gently.

  He didn’t answer.

  She set her knife and unfinished figurine down and rose from her little worktable. She went over to him and crouched, then prodded his side.

  “Narune,” she repeated. “This isn’t how a warrior acts, you know.”

  He turned away from her and said nothing for a while, then mumbled, “Well, I’m not a warrior.”

  And never will be. The unspoken words hung between them.

  She sighed and touched him. “Sit,” she commanded.

  Narune rose with an angry groan, unable to resist her power over him, but didn’t slump back down when her authority faded from his body. He refused to look at her.

  “You’ve been sulking for days,” she said.

  “What else is there for me to do?”

  She said nothing as she sat beside him, her thigh pressed against his, and wrapped her tail around his waist like she had when he was little. He twisted to frown at her after a moment, but she only smiled.

  “Mother, would you please stop?” he snapped, the politeness forced. “I’m no longer a sproutling.”

  “Which is a shame, because this was once such an easy way to comfort you.” She squeezed his knee. “Well, when it came with an embrace, at least. I also remember you growing upset because you were too small to wrap yours around me. ”

  He said nothing and looked away.

  “You’re not so small now, eh?”

  A long, deep sigh escaped him, but he snapped his tail, then stretched it out to wrap around her waist with a huff. After a few moments, he said, “This is stupid.”

  “Yes, but I guilted you into doing it anyway,” she agreed with a laugh, and was delighted to see a smile flash across his lips as he shook his head.

  “I hate how easily you can do that,” he muttered in defeat. “I mean, without actually going into my head.”

  “It’s because I’m your mother. And because I’m wonderful at all I do,” she said, waggling her eyebrows. “Now, tell me what’s prowling in your mind?” He hesitated, so she went ahead. “I’m only asking because I need someone I can depend on at my back, and that’s not you right now.”

  Her son frowned. “I’m not a warrior. The cacica forbid me from
ever becoming one.”

  “So? You can’t hold warrior oaths, true, but you can hold oaths to me, and I won’t stop training you. So we can still fight together, eh?”

  Narune nodded, but looked unconvinced. Something else was bothering him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  There was a moment of hesitation, then, “I think… it happened to me. The thing you warned me about.”

  Colibrí saw in him the same tangle of conflict she had struggled with in her own youth. Saying nothing, she touched him again, and, as he watched her curiously, gave him her memory of the first time she had lost herself in the screaming storm.

  Colibrí held a spear out before her, now just a little older than Narune. They had been separated from Cacica Anacaona near the Primordial Wound, during an exercise meant to teach Yabisi what warriors endured. The halja swarm closed in on Colibrí and the other warriors protecting Yabisi with their usual apathetic obsession.

  The battle was long and fierce. They fought the halja using every bit of strength from every heartbeat, but in the end, they were slaughtered. Colibrí, bleeding, broken, and terrified of what her failure would mean, wept tears and prayed for the power to save Yabisi from the halja closing in all around them.

  The screaming storm answered.

  Colibrí wreaked havoc within the halja, laughing, and she knew her face was twisted with pleasure. She craved warm wet flesh between her teeth. She didn’t want the battle to end, hungered for more lives to extinguish, more bodies to break, more victories to claim. The thrill told her it was the only way the fury of the screaming voices could be sated, their agony ended.

  The howl that burst from her marked her willingness to obey. It was just like her, an unnatural whole split into disturbing halves. The warcry continued to echo, some of it sound and most of it raw spiritual power that made Colibrí tremble.

  She ended the memory with the horror on Yabisi’s face as the young cacica fled her own protector’s bloodlust. Colibrí remembered that moment the most clearly, even through the drunken haze of fury and power. It was the moment she had become the mindless beast everyone had always believed her to be.