Heir of Thunder (Stormbourne Chronicles Book 1) by Karissa Laurel

Author:Karissa Laurel [Laurel, Karissa]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Evolved Publishing LLC
Published: 2016-09-24T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Niffin and Malita

When the armada of floating ships had appeared through the distant shimmering heat waves, Malita wondered if she was experiencing a hallucination. The older people in her town who made long distant treks spoke of the visions they experienced after too many hours walking in the hot sun. Malita had never endured such a journey herself, and the day was still too early and cool to imagine such sights, but, at first, she could devise no other explanation.

She had never seen such things as the flying zeppelins, and the people piloting them were just as bizarre. The foreign women wore scarves over their heads and faces to protect them from the blistering sun. The men wore broad brimmed hats, shaded goggles, and gloves, but their faces were all paler than the bleached desert sands.

She had once seen saw a man with light brown skin and long, straight hair pass through her village on his way to the huge Gytshan city of Cro. She was told that people from Gytsha often looked like that man, but no one knew what to think of these people who, as well as she could tell, had hair the color of the blood that flowed in her veins.

Malita stared as if seeing a new creature, or maybe a band of ghosts or djinn. Perhaps these people were unnatural, or a possible portend of something evil. Most villagers backed away, giving the strangers a wide margin of space. Some ran away or hid. Malita, ever an intrepid and defiant spirit, found the strangers intriguing. Curiosity planted her feet, and she watched with wide-eyed wonder as the strangers traipsed into her town.

“Water?” someone asked, jolting Malita from her trance. Behind her stood one of the amazing young men, and he smiled at her from beneath the brim of his big hat. When he removed his dark goggles and left them hanging about his neck, she felt more at ease.

She stepped back from the stranger and pointed at a nearby well. The young man nodded and tipped his hat before striding away. She didn’t recognize the gesture with his hat—it made her laugh—but she thought he meant something nice by it. Before he turned away, she had glimpsed the vivid color of his eyes—like the sky at dusk. Although she saw him no more that day, she dreamed of those eyes that night.

The next morning, when Malita went out to milk her goats, she found the strangers had created a magnificent dreamland at the edge of her village. They had arranged their airships into a city of wonder, full of new colors, smells, and textures. One airship opened its hold into a sort of indoor market similar to the small one at the center of Malita’s village, but instead of baskets, beads, and clay pots, this place sold incense, glittering jewelry, and strange new foods.

Malita spent much of the day admiring the Fantazikes’ wares and even traded a bit of her goat milk for one of the chocolate covered gnollitas.

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