The Land's Whisper
Read The Land's Whisper Online
Authors: Monica Lee Kennedy
Tags: #fantasy, #fantasy series, #fantasy trilogy, #fantasy action adventure epic series, #trilogy book 1, #fantasy 2016 new release
THE PARTING BREATH SERIES
BOOK 1
Monica Lee Kennedy
Copyright © 2016 Monica Lee Kennedy
All rights reserved.
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Ebook formatting by
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For my loving husband and best friend.
And a special thanks to Mama, Katy, Marianne, Dani,
Bridget, and my generous, thoughtful beta readers.
CONTENTS
To view a map of the world, please visit:
www.monicaleekennedy.com/map.html
Malitas
shall come; its shadow heralds the
approaching Change.
-Genesifin
Marietta's body and soul writhed in pain, as
if some fiery knife were burning, piercing, slashing her. She
thrashed, but there was no relief, no escaping it. Whatever it was,
it was inside her.
Leave,
her mind shrieked,
leave.
Marietta could sense its interest, its
disgust, its power. It was a thing so
other
, and glimpsing
its foreignness in her very body was a horror usually reserved for
nightmares.
Leave,
she begged desperately.
It did not grant her an answer. Instead, it
lingered and watched her, observing and learning. Its presence was
pain itself, filling her whole person, material and immaterial,
with agony.
Leave. Please. Leave.
There was no hiding and Marietta was
powerless. The being had pinned her within her mind, and while
alert and aware, she could not rouse her body or move. If one gazed
upon Marietta, one would only see a slumbering woman.
I’m burning alive. From the inside,
she realized in torment, and was filled with a sudden
understanding: there would never again be liberty. This
thing
would abide in her until all that remained was a heap
of scorched bones.
The desperation of this knowledge somehow
freed her for a moment—like a fish leaping from the palms that
cupped it—and she flung herself into gasping wakefulness. The pain
was blinding and unendurable. She screamed, shrill and long.
It laughed, delighted. The sound resonated
in every space of her mind.
No, there would never be freedom again.
~
Sim inhaled, his chest heaving in the thin
air. The fragrances of the mountains filled his nostrils. Every
sight, sound, and smell irked him and heightened his impression of
foreignness.
I hate this place,
he thought and
scowled. His mouth felt thick with saliva from the intensity of his
movements. He spit at the ground, even though he knew the land
would only take offense. It did not matter really, it would always
take offense.
I really hate this place.
Sim refastened the clasp and string
unloosening at his boot and pushed back the light brown locks
obscuring his vision. He straightened his frame and took in the
expanse before him.
He stood atop Berete in the
terrisdan
Selet. Berete may have been the highest peak in the area, but the
jagged crowns of the rest did not lag far behind. Each stab of land
jutted up like an enormous anemone arm—seeking, seeking. The sky
arched on forever in a heavy blue that seemed opaque and tangible
against the rocky grays and violets. Trees were scarce, huddling
together in small clusters until the elevation dropped and the
rugged terrain evened. Then, one could hardly make headway the wood
pressed so thickly.
Sim sighed. His spine was forever clenched
when he walked the terrisdans. Everything was too
alive
. It
all seemed to breathe and watch him with prying eyes. There were
rare moments when he experienced the true peace of solitude, but
never atop these heights.
He felt the piercing cry before he heard it.
It tore right down the inside of his person, from neck to navel,
and left him with the smallness only a child knows. Whether it was
an actual scream playing up the heights or an uncanny link with his
beloved, he knew not, but it had the same effect.
He must hurry, oh how he must hurry.
He strained his weary eyes. They flitted one
direction to another. This was why he had come, why he had fumbled
up this cursed peak. He must find the blossom, and quickly.
The sun glinted upon the rocks, but Sim
resisted the urge to shy his eyes away. He pressed his lids close
together and squinted hard, changed location, and hunted anew. He
raised a hand to shield some of the light. Still, nothing.
They promised,
he encouraged himself,
but nonetheless despondency settled into his gut.
They said the
trees would be here. But where?
Sim jumped along the rock, careful to avoid
the scree and plummeting drops. He knew all too well that the
cliffs in Selet eroded and broke under one’s feet without mercy or
warning. That was the way of the land. He snorted in disgust; the
land was always against him here.
As if in response to his thoughts, the step
before him shuddered and cascaded down the peak with a quiet,
lethal force. The air tightened and he could feel animosity flung
at him like mud from a rutted wheel.
Fear gripped his heart, but not for just his
own wretched hide. His eyes darted and swept the nearby mounts.
They seemed so close that he could almost leap across safely, but
that was the treachery of the land. Nothing was ever that simple
here.
“Please,
please.
I beg you. Do not
fight me now. Not now. For Marietta. She needs help.” His voice
sounded thin and cracked before the vast wildness of the mountains
and sky.
How can I even think to plead with one that
hates me so? How could Selet ever have mercy?
The land about him seemed to delight in his
desperation, laughing in the face of his need. The air pressed hard
against him and he felt the ground speak, a slither of a whisper:
“
Get out.
”
Fury replaced terror, flooding through Sim’s
veins and powering his limbs. He would never quit, never satisfy
this cursed land. He scrambled down the rock face with his fingers
numbly groping for holds. He was several arm spans above the
ground, yet he let himself fall. His ankles burned from the
impact.
Where? Where?
He felt the race of time acutely. Selet was
dangerous, but with night it would become lethal. The land was
bolder against him then, or perhaps he simply grew more tremulous.
Whichever it was, dread pawed at his soul.
And then, in a glorious moment, Sim spied
them. Upon the next crest, Triele
,
in a small coppice, grew
at least a dozen
groyu
trees. Their dark purple leaves
glimmered in mocking greeting, as if they too knew it would be no
easy feat to reach them.
Could they work? Would it really be that
easy?
Blinded by a terrifying hope, he raced down
Berete
.
It would be a solid two hours before he could even
begin to tackle Triele, and several hours more before he would near
the trees—but he must try. He could not be certain until he
arrived, but the
tenralilies
were known to grow beneath the
cool shelter of groyu. These flowers were the treasures he sought.
Old lore said they could be used to create a serum of health. While
he had scoffed at the fantasy-legend since youth, his whole world
depended upon saving Marietta. He would fly to the moons if he
must.
As he bounded, trees and bushes struck long
shadows with narrow, stretching fingers. His eyes and heart jumped
as he futilely sought to quell his imagination.
The last sprays of sunset played across the
heavens, and at last he glimpsed the beautiful sight. Ahead, not
more than a hundred strides up, grew the groyu. Brief relief
loosened his knotted gut, but only for a moment. There was still
much ahead.
Sim hugged the peak’s wall as he inched
forward beside the steep precipice. The drop was enough to choke
the breath in his throat, and the cold air stung his lungs and bit
at his nose. He willed his smarting eyes forward, and, with
heartbeat pounding frantically in his temples, he whispered her
name to draw strength.
As he neared a wider section of path, the
land shifted under him in a brief tremor. Sim launched his body
forward and clung to the side of the cliff, his fingers deep in the
crusted soil. His nails tore like soft moss under a boot’s heel,
and his fingertips bled. But he did not cry out; he knew Selet was
just beginning its games.
He shuffled forward on all fours, trembling.
He did not trust his quivering limbs, nor the quaking earth.
Eventually he found his way up again, pressed his thin lips
together, and rubbed his poor eyes, seeking any image that could
reorient him amidst the darkening cliffs. He had lost sight of the
trees in the last ascent but knew they must be close.
Sim scrambled in the assumed direction of
the copse. He sweat in exertion, but it only chilled in the wind
and iced his insides. His fingers numbed and his back arched
forward, yet he ignored all, and within minutes he knelt beneath
the shadowy glade and was cradling a soft flower in his soiled
hands.
The tenralily blossoms surrounded him, their
fragrance a gentle waft of sweetness. They were a deep blue that
looked gray in the pressing twilight. It reminded him of another
time, another world, when he would walk through the gardens of his
home and allow his fingertips to trail over delicate petals and
green leaves that dangled from soft-scented trees.
He shook himself from the reverie and
plunged his pained hands into the rigid earth. The blossom broke
and fluttered aside as he burrowed deeply along the trail of root.
A span of an arm down, maybe more, the spindly strand met a small,
circular pod. Sim tore the root gingerly from the sphere and drew
it to his heart. He choked in a stifled sob.
No,
Sim ordered to himself.
Keep
it together.
With trembling fingers, he wrapped the bulb
carefully in a soft gray cloth and moved to the other blossoms. He
unearthed and stowed three additional pods in cloth and coat. These
could mean hope for Marietta. Maybe. He allowed himself a soft sigh
of gratitude before steeling his nerves and beginning the
descent.
It was difficult work. The moons were low in
their courses and still obscured by the tall crests hovering around
him, yet he felt a lightness in his steps and a glow sparking up in
his heart.
She has a chance. My love. She has a chance.
Marietta filled his vision as he blundered
through. She was his
soumme
, his love, his everything. She
had been his for nearly five orbits and a joy every passing moment
of them. Her auburn hair in the sun, her dancing gray eyes, her
lovely features and golden skin. She was more than his love; she
was his life.
Sim blinked, realizing suddenly that he was
at the base of Triele
.
The now-bright orbs of the night
beamed down and turned both land and rock an eerie gray. He had
been unaware of his surroundings and found his stomach flop as he
took in the harsh, giant mounts of Berete
,
Calae
,
Undiae
,
and Feree that loomed over him. Sim cautiously
turned north and prayed he would be out of the terrisdan and into
the
lugazzi
in a few hours. He had little reason to be
optimistic. Selet had disliked him from the start, but when he had
taken Marietta, the dislike had transformed into an incomparable
hatred.
