Witch Flame
by Tara West
Copyright © 2012 Tara West
Photography by Nichelle Nolan at https://charligalcreations.carbonmade.com/
Cover art design by Maiarcita at https://maiarcita.deviantart.com/
Fonts by Tamra Westberry
Edited by M. Edward McNally, author of kick butt fantasies. Visit his website to read more about his fantasy saga, or to download The Sable City for free. https://sablecity.wordpress.com/
Publisher’s Note:
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This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events, and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Tehra Origin Myth
Curse of the Ice Dragon
About Tara West
Dedication
Special thanks to my glitterific critter partner, Shéa MacLeod for her support and feedback.
Chapter One
The sun was fast setting and Feira was hungry and tired. She had been walking for days, following the rustling of leaves as the Elements led her further away from home. Kneeling on top of a patch of snake moss, she pulled a water bladder off her shoulder while breathing in the heady air. It was warmer near the shoreline and the air smelled more alive than the stagnant fog of the forest. Feira reveled in the feel of the sunshine on her face. Her home had been so dark compared to this place.
Aloa-Shay, the wind had whispered. Village by the sea.
Feira had not lived near a village since her family had fled to the forest when she was a small child. She only hoped the people here would be kind.
She almost gave into the temptation to lie down and bask in the soft glow of the setting sun, but Feira dared not close her eyes lest she conjure images of her mother’s bloody and torn body.
If Feira hadn’t wandered away to pick cotulla blossoms, if she had only stayed by her mother’s side…then her mother would still be alive, and Feira would not have needed to flee the forest. But even Feira, with all of her powers, was not strong enough to take on an entire colony of giants.
Biting down on her knuckles, Feira stifled a sob. It would do no good to give in to tears now, not when she still needed to find a shelter for the night. When Feira pulled her hand away, flakes of charred flesh flitted down toward the moss. She pulled several strands from the ground and rubbed the cool plant between her fingers. Her hands barely pained her, but the regrowth of new skin was starting to itch.
The Elements grew impatient, tossing dust in her hair and whipping her skirt about her ankles. Feira reluctantly rose on shaky legs, though she did not know how much longer she could walk.
“Who are you?”
Feira spun around and sucked in a sharp breath as she looked up at the old woman who stood not a few paces in front of her.
Wind speaker, the breeze hissed in Feira’s ear. Not as powerful as a witch, but more closely related to her kind than mere mortals. Odu had taught her that much, before he’d wandered away one bleak winter morn, never to be seen again.
Feira hesitantly stepped forward, eyeing the woman with trepidation. Her bronze, leathery skin was covered in so many lines and dark spots, she resembled an old, weathered map. Gnarled hands that looked more like claws, clutched the rounded top of a twisted and bent walking stick. She wore no covering to conceal her nearly bald head, which was dotted with only a few fine tufts of white hair. The rest of her was draped in a heavy brown robe. The only other adornment on the woman’s body was a large silver ring with a bright ruby stone in its center. Despite the old woman’s frightening appearance, Feira was compelled to trust her, for she sensed compassion and understanding deep within the woman’s heart.
After all, the Elements had led Feira here for a reason. Though Feira was only a child, she’d been gifted with a wisdom beyond her nine winters. She knew this woman would help her.
“I am Feira,” she said while straightening her shoulders and leveling the old woman with a direct stare. “Who are you?”
“I am Akahi.” The old woman leaned further over her bent cane while squinting her eyes. “Feira is an odd name. Where did you come from?”
Feira nodded north, beyond the jungle and toward the direction of the cool winds. “The Werewood Forest.”
The old woman gasped. “The dark forest? No, child, you did not come from there.” She shook her head while clucking her tongue. “Where is your mother?”
Feira swallowed the rising knot of sorrow that welled up in her throat. She wiped her watery eyes with the backs of her hands. “She went to the Elements.” Her voice sounded small, even to her own ears.
The deep lines embedded in the woman’s twisted face seemed to soften. “What of your father?” she asked in a voice laced with pity.
“He forgot about me.” Feira’s shoulders fell as she recalled the day Odu had walked out of their small hut without sparing either of them a second glance. Mother had crawled into her bed, crying beneath the furs for days. The time had come for the old man to continue his quest. What he was after, Feira did not know, and neither did Odu for that matter. But he said he’d know when he found it. Of one thing Feira was certain: she would never see the man she’d called her father again.
The woman edged closer to Feira. “What has happened to your hands?” She nodded toward Feira’s blackened fingers.
Feira shrugged. “Flame came out of them.”
The woman’s mouth fell open, and for a long moment, she simply stared at Feira. “Flame? Do they pain you?”
“Only a little,” she said as she stuffed her fingers into her pockets. Feira knew her hands looked hideous, and the weight of the woman’s stare made them feel even more so.
“Can you do more than make flame come from your hands?” The woman asked, her voice laced with incredulity, and something more— fear.
Feira looked up at the woman and nodded, afraid now that if she said too much, she’d drive the woman away.
“Can you heal broken things?”
Feira nodded again as she thought of the barn that had caught fire after a winter storm. Her mother had sobbed for the loss of the structure, so Feira had toiled an entire fortnight, healing the wood board by board. If only she’d been strong enough to heal her mother, but she was in too many pieces. Feira had only enough time to kill the giant before more of the monsters descended.
The woman leaned even closer, so that Feira could smell the sweet and pungent scent of her breath. “Can you lift things without touching them?”
Feira answered by pulling one charred hand out of her pocket. She pointed at a small boulder and called upon the Elements. The boulder shook and trembled as the air around it grew thicker, liftin
g the object above the ground. Feira lowered her hand and settled the stone back in its resting place. She turned her gaze upon the woman, who was looking at her with dark, wide eyes.
“Come with me child.” The woman latched one of her gnarled hands onto Feira’s shoulder. “You are not safe out of doors.” Then she turned her soulful gaze toward the sky. “Oh, Heavenly Elements protect us. If the Goddess finds this child, we are both dead.”
Chapter Two
Feira was just sixteen summers when a booming knock shook the door of her foster mother’s small hut. She knew it wasn’t her foster mother, as Akahi had left just moments ago to pick berries and would not be back until evening. Feira quickly dropped the wooden spoon into the cauldron of Akahi’s special healing brew and rushed to the door.
What she saw before her nearly made her knees buckle—her beloved Tumì, draped over his brother’s shoulder, with a cracked and bloodied skull.
Tumì’s mother, Katriana stood beside her sons. She looked at Feira with keen eyes and a twisted scowl. “He calls your name, but says nothing else,” she said in a voice that was surprisingly devoid of emotion.
“Bring him inside,” Feira beckoned. “What has happened?”
“He was struck by a palma. Foolish boy,” Katriana growled as she followed them inside. She looked around the modest room with derision in her cold eyes before plopping down on a nearby stool and helping herself to a cup of Akahi’s wine. “I told him to be careful around those heavy fruits. Now who will take care of me if he is dead?”
Feira pulled back the furs of her own small cot. “Lie him down here,” Fiera said to Tumì’s brother, while trying her best to stifle her rage at Tumì’s heartless mother.
Tumì’s beefy brother, Nuk, who had been born a mute, answered with a grunt. He dropped Tumì onto the cot without care and stepped back, a vacant expression in his hooded gaze.
Feira often marveled at the differences between Tumì and his family. His mother and brother had rich, golden skin and flowing chestnut hair like many inhabitants of the nearby seaside village of Aloa-Shay. Tumì’s skin was dark, and his hair an unruly mess of black straw that he had to weave in a tight braid, else it would spring wildly from his head.
Feira leaned over Tumì and brushed her hand across his brow. His eyelids fluttered open, but his pupils had receded somewhere in the back of his skull. Sticky blood clung to his matted hair and skin. One corner of his temple had been crushed. Feira shook her head as silent tears cascaded down her face. Most likely, he’d been trying to chop down a palma pod so that he could add more coin to his greedy mother’s purse. The large palma pods that hung from tall trees could yield hundreds of small, sweet fruits. But the pods were heavy, and falling palmas had killed more than one hapless villager. Feira wondered how Tumì had managed to speak her name, or anything at all with such an injury.
She bit her bottom lip while stifling a sob. Tumì would die without her care, but if Feira healed him, she knew she would be marked as a witch. No mere doctoring could bring someone back from the brink of death.
Her gaze shot to Tumì’s mother, who was looking at her expectantly with that serpent cold gleam in her eyes. More than once, Katriana had accused Feira of bewitching her son. Now the cold bitch would have proof that Feira was a witch, for Feira knew she could not take another breath if her true love was gone from this world.
Feira was only glad her foster mother wasn’t here to see what she was about to do. The Elements save she and her mother, once Katriana knew the full extent of Feira’s powers.
Chapter Three
Feira pushed aside a curtain of leaves as she stepped inside the abandoned temple that had once served as an altar to a fallen goddess. The massive stone pillars which supported the structure were now cracked and covered by an overgrowth of vines and moss. The dark sanctuary was lit only by narrow shafts of light that crept in from the holes in the walls and ceiling. The villagers of Aloa-Shay avoided the temple, fearing it was haunted, but Feira had never felt more at peace than when she was among the crumbling statues and decaying walls of her secret meeting place.
Feira’s heart skipped a beat as she smiled down at her true love. Tumì was lying on a woven mat, his body propped up on one elbow. A threadbare tunic was pulled tight across his broad chest. His long, black braid, intricately woven with golden Fau feathers, hung over one shoulder. His dark eyes and complexion were such a stark contrast to Feira’s pale skin and flame-colored hair, which was why she thought he complemented her, not just in spirit, but in body as well.
His full lips were pulled back in that same wolfish grin, the smile Feira had loved since they were children. Only in Tumì’s eyes, Feira read his hunger, reminding her that they were children no more.
When she knelt on the mat, he pulled her against his chest while slanting his lips over hers.
“Mì Oaňa,” he murmured against her skin, as he traced a finger down her arm.
She sighed against his mouth before pulling back. If only it were true. If only she was his Oaňa, his destiny. But Feira knew fate had other plans in store for them. Tumì’s mother would never allow their union, and if they disobeyed her, Katriana had threatened to expose Feira as a witch. Feira might be able to battle the village priests, but she’d never win against the deity they served, the Sea Goddess, Eris.
Tumì’s brow creased as he looked at her with a sullen expression. “Why do you pull away from me?”
Feira turned her gaze down, speaking softly as she twirled a frayed end of her skirt around her finger. “Your mother says I’ve bewitched you.”
He wrapped his arms around her while feathering kisses across her temple. “She is right,” he breathed into her ear. “You have bewitched me.”
Feira knew she mustn’t prolong her misery any longer. Though she loved Tumì, it was unfair to bind him to her when they could never complete their union. “No. We mustn’t.” Even as she pulled away, she regretted the loss of his touch.
“But I love you,” Tumì said with a crack of despair in his voice. He cupped her chin with his calloused fingers, forcing her to meet his gaze. “And I know you love me.”
One look into Tumì’s molten eyes, and Feira knew she was lost. She couldn’t help the emotions that overwhelmed her as she burst into tears. “Your mother will out me as a witch.”
“Do not cry, Oaňa.” Tumì wiped the tears off her cheeks with the pad of his thumb. “Even if we have to leave Aloa-Shay, we will be together.”
“No.” Feira shook her head. “I cannot leave Akahi.”
Tumì heaved a sigh while smoothing his hand across his brow. “Can you not see that Akahi is ready to pass to the Elements? These herbs you feed her only prolong her life, but they do not make her well. Let her go, and run away with me.”
Feira swatted him across the chest before jumping to her feet. “That is selfish, Tumì!”
Tumì stood, shaking his head as he bore down on her with a scowl. “No more selfish than prolonging the misery of a sick old woman.”
With a rigid spine, Feira turned from him. Even though she was angry with Tumì, somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she feared his words were true. Was she only prolonging Akahi’s misery? Did the woman whom she’d loved as her own mother wish to pass on to the Elements?
Feira flinched when Tumì’s strong hands rested on her shoulders.
“Oaňa, please forgive me,” he implored as he slowly turned her toward him. “Look around you. Where are all the fathers and grandfathers? What fate is the life of a fisherman on Eris’s waters? Even if we stay here, even if my mother allows us to marry, you could be a widow before our first babe is born.”
Feira swallowed a sob as she shook her head. “Do not say that.”
“It is true,” Tumì said with an edge to his voice. “This is not the life I want for you. This is not the life I want for our children.” Then the hard angles of his face softened and his voice dropped to barely a whisper. “Leave with me.” br />
Feira’s breath hitched when she saw the love reflected in Tumì’s eyes. “Where will we go?”
Tumì turned his gaze toward the East. “Across the sea to the Shifting Sands.”
“The Shifting Sands?” Feira stepped back as she sucked in a sharp breath. “No, Akahi cannot make such a journey.”
“When will you understand?” Tumì spoke through a groan.
Without warning, a strong wind whipped Feira’s hair across her face and tousled her skirts.
Help me, Feira.
Feira’s eyes widened. “I must go. Akahi needs me.”
Just as she turned to run, Tumì grasped her arm, a look of concern marring his brow. “I’ll come with you.”
“No.” She pulled away. “You cannot risk being seen with me. I will return on the morrow.”
But even as she ran toward her home, she wondered if she would see him again. Something in the urgency of the rustling leaves warned her that danger was fast approaching.
Chapter Four
“Well, hello, my sweet flower.”
Feira’s chest heaved as she looked up at the soldier who was blocking the door to her hut. The man was nearly twice as wide as her Tumì, with skin a rich mahogany and long, black matted braids that cascaded down his back like dead ivy. Dressed in bronze-plated armor bearing the insignia of the horned broot whale, Feira knew this was no ordinary soldier. This was one of Eris’s warriors.
Had she sent him to kill her?
Slowly, Feira unclenched her fingers while keeping her wary gaze on the warrior. “Who are you? Where is my mother?”
The man’s blood-red lips curled back in a feral smile, exposing two rows of jagged, yellow teeth. Feira read the lust in his eyes as he jutted one foot forward and lunged for her. She quickly ducked under him, dodging his grasp, only to barrel into another massive chest.
The man wrapped his meaty arms around her, crushing her against him. Before Feira could even react, he’d tossed her over his shoulder.
“Let me go!” she screamed while pounding his back. “Akahi!” she called to the wind. “Where are you, Mother?!”
“I found her first,” the soldier behind them growled.