Illera's Darkliete: A Coming of Age Fantasy by Gail Gernat

Author:Gail Gernat [Gernat, Gail]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
ISBN: 9781775209010
Publisher: Andrea James Publishing
Published: 2017-12-28T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Seated cross-legged on the soggy ground, Illera stared out at the pouring rain. The drops that dribbled through the leafy canopy overhead, made runnels down her sodden cloak. Her mind was as dismal as the weather, caught up in visions of unending war between Frain and Madean, her beloved people torn from the land and the brutal Korul master of the wide golden plains. Because she could not subject herself to the cruel and loathsome Torul, her land was going to be destroyed. Silent, hot tears slid from her eyes and joined the rivulets coursing down her cloak. The sky was growing lighter, emphasizing the darkness that lay upon her soul. Maggie uttered sleepy comments from under her outer garment, stirring from time to time. As much as her mind shied away from the idea, she had to accept it; she had ruined Madean.

Lark hunkered down beside her. “What is the matter, my Lady? Did Torul hurt you?”

Raven joined them, looming over their low crouching shapes like one of the ghosts of the swamp.

“I have destroyed Madean.” Illera choked. “Korul will invade. My father will fight, and the people will join him. They will all be destroyed because they are farmers and herders, not warriors. Korul will take the land, and pollute it and ruin it. There will be generations of war as Madean tries to throw off Frain’s yolk, and it is all my fault because I could not accept that, that loathsome worm of a prince.”

Lark shook his head. “Surely it is not as grim as all that.”

Raven knelt beside her and put an arm around her shoulders. Turning her face into his shoulder, Illera sobbed, her heart broken. Her pain of soul was a shard of glass piercing and slicing her emotions to bloody meat; grinding her spirit to grisly tatters.

“Illera, look,” called Lark softly, rising slowly to his feet.

She looked up with bleary eyes. Rounded shapes moved through the heavy rain coming towards her. A doe and fawn stopped a few feet from them and lowered their heads to nibble the short grass. Half a dozen rabbits hopped around Illera’s feet while the trees fill up with a rainbow of birds, all twittering and rustling. Two black ducks waddled from the water, shaking their pinions dry. Their anxious quacks brought a small smile to her face. A tufted-eared head peeked around the bole of a tree; the slit pupils widened to round circles. The bobcat crept forward, belly to the ground until it could lay its head in Illera’s lap.

“They don’t want you to be sad,” Raven stepped away from her. “Your tears upset them.”

Illera looked up at him and smiled. “I didn’t call them. They came on their own.”

“All the wild things love you,” he replied with a strange, far away look on his face. “And that is a great blessing.”

The rain stopped. One moment the downpour was hurtling from the sky, the next, only the burden of droplets from the trees was falling to earth and water.

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