Broken World Book Two - StarSword by T C Southwell Page A

After a while, she settled
down, and he was able to catch a few hours of sleep.
    Talsy woke him
when she climbed off the bed. She went to stand in the tiny patch
of golden warmth that crept across the floor, and he watched her
warily. Holding her hands in it, she weaved her fingers, as if
playing with the golden beams, and he wondered if she had lost her
reason.
    "This is
Crayash, the Power of Fire," she said.
    He nodded.
"So?"
    "Chanter told
me what to do."
    "When?"
    "In my dreams,
last night." She smiled.
    Kieran sighed.
"It was just a dream."
    "The souls will
help me now. I'm Mujar marked. Dargon and Kuran are banished by the
earth blood and the souls of fire don't dwell nearby."
    He rose and
stretched. "You're talking crazy, you know that?"
    "No I'm not,"
she retorted. "I'm going to call the wind."
    "That's all we
need, a cold draught."
    "The souls of
the wind are called Shanar. Come to me, Shanar, I need you."
    "You're nuts."
Kieran sat down on the bed again. "What good will that do?"
    "Don't
underestimate the Power of Ashmar. It can do more than you
know."
    He gestured to
the door. "How will it get us out of here?"
    "I don't know.
Why don't you wait and see?"
    Kieran leant
back against the wall and folded his arms, gazing at her with
mocking eyes.
     
    Talsy was
certain that what Chanter had told her in the dream was real. It
had been as vivid as the ones that had driven her from Rashkar
before it fell. Now that she had the Mujar mark, she sensed his
guidance more strongly, and his teachings echoed in her mind.
Ashmar was the weakest of the four Powers. She had seen him use it
only to change form and drive the ship. The wind could flatten a
town such as this, however, and even Truemen's stoutest
constructions would not withstand a hurricane's fury. Kieran had
lost interest, and gazed at the tramping feet and rattling wheels
that passed outside the window.
    Talsy sensed
the first whisper of wind and turned to face the window through
which it blew, cool and fresh as a mountain breeze. It carried the
scent of pine trees and windswept crags, a gentle, indescribable
smell of wild open spaces, clouds and rain. Its silken currents
held scents of hot rock and brine, even the golden smell of
sunlight fresh from the high ethers. A soft presence, made of
stirring air and mingled aromas, replaced the stagnant air in the
stuffy cell. Shanar were invisible, they could be sensed only
through touch and smell, and she closed her eyes to better know the
strange entity that had entered her prison. The Shanar playfully
lifted her hair and caressed her cold skin with warm breaths that
sent shivers through her. It filled her lungs with freshness
untainted by the city's smoke and dust.

 
     
    Chapter Four
     
    Kieran
straightened with an oath, sniffing the cool breeze. Talsy smiled
as she opened her eyes. The wind rustled around the room, filled
its cramped confines with memories of the open spaces through which
it usually frolicked and brought its wildness into the ugly little
space. Like a trapped wild creature, it moved around restlessly,
caressing them with gentle zephyrs of scented air. Though Ashmar
was the least powerful, Talsy sensed that it was the wildest of the
four powers, formless and unfettered. Like the Mujar who sometimes
rode it in bird form, the wind knew no master and bowed to no
bondage, yet it was here at her behest, answering her call. The
gravity of it awed her, and the presence of the untamed soul she
had summoned filled her with deep gratitude and wonder.
    "Shanar," she
murmured.
    The wind's
voice whispered in a soft melody, a sound as still as the deepest
silence. "Friend of Life, know me."
    Remembering the
souls' odd speech, which was sometimes unintelligible, Talsy
struggled to understand the simple words. "I know you."
    "Do you?" A
whispered chuckle. "Who am I?"
    "Shanar, the
wind."
    "Life has
blessed you, yet you do not know me."
    Talsy fought
off panic. What if she said the wrong thing? Desperate to please,
she