Storm Witch E-Book

Ellen Renner

• Herausgeber: Nosy Crow Ltd
• Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
• Serie: Storm Witch
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 236

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

Child of Air, Water, Earth or Fire: now that she is thirteen Storm must undertake The Choosing and be claimed by one of the Elementals, which will determine her whole life's work. But for Storm, daughter of a father murdered by Water and a warrior mother claimed by Earth, there will be no easy destiny. The Elementals bestow her with a great and terrible gift. Storm-bringer. Storm-rider. Storm-queller. Storm has powers that no one, not even the island Elders, can understand. And when the Drowned Ones - a savage band of pirates who roam the seas on floating towns - attack her island, will her powers help her to save the people she loves, or is her fate to betray everything she holds dear? Soon Storm faces a decision that will change her life - and that of everyone who lives on her island - forever. A powerful new fantasy series from Ellen Renner, prize-winning author of Tribute and Castle of Shadows. "Familiar themes are invigorated in this assured novel; its ethical conundrums, deft characterisation and sense of magic are reminiscent of Ursula K Le Guin's Earthsea series." - Guardian, Books of the Month "A whirlwind adventure which will sweep you into its enchanted world. At its epicentre is a strong heroine in a coming of age quest that will leave you breathless." - South Wales Evening Post, Children's Book of the Week "This is a strong story that had me gripped in an instant and has left me wanting for more with each and every chapter. So I can't wait for the next book" - The Reader Teacher (blog) "A strong start to the series which establishes the world and character and sets out Storm's dilemma. This will doubtless be a hit and I look forward to finding out how the story continues." - Book Murmuration (blog)

Leseprobe

For my mother, DarleneE. R.

1

“Are you scared?”

They were nearly at the harbour, and Storm needed to know before it was too late. She dodged a step ahead and walked backwards, studying Thorn’s face.

It was the morning after the boys’ Choosing. Last night all the Thirteen-year boys had travelled to the top of the mountain, one by one. Each of them had passed the ordeal and been Chosen by one of the four Elemental spirits. Thorn belonged to Water. He and his friends were men now, newly apprenticed to a boatmaster. The winter monsoons had blown themselves out, and it was trading season. In a few days the island’s fleet would begin the long voyage to the Inner Sea. Thorn would be gone for half a year.

Storm couldn’t imagine leaving Yanlin and sailing off over the horizon. And then there were the Drowned Ones – pirates who preyed on the trading ships. Every crew member risked death. Who knew better than her? Her own father had sailed away and never returned.

“Tell me the truth!” she demanded.

“I’m not scared!” Thorn strutted, his voice jaunty. But she just looked at him, and he laughed. “Maybe I am … a bit. But I can’t wait to see the Inner Sea and Bellum Town. It’s what I’ve dreamed of my whole life.”

“I know.” She dropped back beside him as they swung on to the harbour road. She could hear the others splashing and shouting below. Storm walked slower. This was the last time she would be alone with her best friend until the fleet returned. Suddenly, she was scared. It was all slipping away. Again.

“Hey, don’t worry.” Thorn had noticed her silence. “I’ll be back before you know it! Come on: I can hear the others having fun without us.” He grabbed her hand, and they jogged down the main road to the harbour.

The early-morning sun carved shadows on the beach. Beneath the long legs of the archery towers, boats littered the sand like sickle moons. Boys and girls climbed on to the pier, dived into blue-green water, then swam back to do it all over again. She saw Mixi at once and wished she had not come.

Thorn let go of her hand once they were in the queue and she couldn’t escape without shame. He had stripped to the waist and his back was a map of orange freckles, like islands floating in a brown sea. Nearly her turn.

Storm gripped her upper arms, holding herself together. There were goosebumps beneath her fingertips. If only Cloud would stop messing around – stop teetering on the edge of the pier, arms whirling, screaming like a seagull – and simply jump!

Cloud had been Chosen by Air and he was showing off, pretending he could call the wind like a proper witch. Finally, he missed his footing and slipped from the pier. He twisted mid-air, stretched long, and cut into the waves so cleanly they swallowed him like whitebait. You had to love the water or it spat you out. She hated Water. The Dolphin was down there, waiting.

Someone pushed her. Storm lurched forward into Thorn.

“Clumsy!” Mixi taunted. Her enemy had slipped into the queue behind her.

“Hey, Storm.” Thorn twisted around, eyes dancing. “If you’re that eager, you can have my turn.” He leaned nearer. For the space of a heartbeat, her fear of the sea was swept away. She looked into his eyes and felt herself start to blush. The others were laughing. Good-natured teasing – all but one. Mixi crowed with spite.

Thorn planted his arms either side of her head and toed the edge of the walkway. He grinned at her. A lazy wink, a whoop of water-sun-newly-Chosen happiness, and he back-flipped away and plunged into the sea like the Dolphin itself. Storm watched the boy’s Element swallow him and was flooded with horror.

She fought against memory, but her father’s spirit came and carried her back to that long-ago sunshine-time when she was five and only just learning to be afraid.

“Don’t go, Da! Don’t you love me?”

Her father squatted and cradled her face in his calloused hands.

“Don’t scream like a new-hatched gull, little Storm-bird. I must go to sea with the men and trade your mother’s beautiful pots, or you will have no spices for your plum sauce.”

“I hate plums!”

“You will have no cloth for new clothes and will have to go naked like a cling-monkey.”

“I like going naked!”

“Not in the cold monsoon-time, I think. Besides: women have the work of making and men the work of trading. If we fail in our work, we break the Balance and the Drowned Ones will come for our island, knowing us to be weak and without virtue.”

There was no answer to this threat: Drowned Ones ate children.

“Here, let me tell you a story.” Da settled onto the pier, dangling his long legs over the water. He patted the stones beside him and Storm wriggled close. As she listened to the story, she leaned against him, breathed his salt-smell, and was happy.

“Once upon a time …” Da began, “the World did not exist. There was only the Sky, home to the Stars and the Moon. There was a big ball of fire called the Sun, who raced here and there, demanding attention. But the Sun often went away and left the others on their own. The Stars sang of loneliness, and the Moon wept green tears.

“One day, the great Unknowable One happened to pass by on its journey, and the Stars and Moon called out to the One to complain about their unhappiness.

“‘Very well,’ said the One. ‘I shall make you a companion.’ And the One plucked a tooth from its head. ‘Become Earth!’ said the One, and the tooth became a ball of stone, sand and mud. The One spat on the ball and its spit became Water. Oceans and rivers covered the Earth. The One blew on the ball, and its breath became Air – gales, storms and gentle breezes. Finally, the Unknowable tossed the ball that was the World far into the Sky,saying: ‘I give you, Stars and Moon, a companion to love and cherish.’”

“The Unknowable One turned away to continue its journey. But just then, the Sun peeked over the edge of night and saw the blue-and-green World spinning up to join the Stars and Moon. The Sun was overcome with jealousy, for this new creature was even more beautiful than itself. So the Sun took its bow and shot a fire-arrow at the World.”

Storm gasped at the Sun’s wickedness. Da grinned and continued. “The One heard the twang of the bowstring in time to fling a thought between the arrow and the new World. The arrow plunged into the heart of the World, but it was not destroyed. Instead, the Element that had been sent to consume was itself eaten. Fire sank into the belly of the World where it was chained by Earth and imprisoned by Water.

“And then the Unknowable One said: ‘In time, the seed of Life that was caught in my tooth will grow. Creatures will come into being and will live on the World. I charge you, Earth, Water, Air and Fire, to keep the Balance so that Life may exist. I will return in the appointed time, and if your bickering has destroyed Life, you will answer to Me.’

“The One continued on its journey. But the Sun was not left unpunished, for it was no longer free to go where it would. And that is why the Sun travels in a straight line across the sky like a buffalo pulling a plough. And as long as each day lasts, the Sunmust gaze down upon the beauty of the World.

“So you see,” said Da, standing up and pulling Storm to her feet. “I have to go away tomorrow with the other men, and you must stay on the island and help your mother make beautiful pots. That is the way of our people. That is how we keep the Balance.” He lifted her onto his shoulders, and Storm put her arms around Da’s neck and hugged him close. They stood and watched the sun set on the fleet of boats, new-loaded with the treasures of Yanlin Island.

“I will always come home to you, Storm-bird,” Da had promised.

But he had sailed away the next morning, and she had never seen him again.

“Storm! Your turn.”

She edged towards the end of the pier. A huge shadow floated over the waves and she glanced up. Only seagulls. Storm shivered and forced herself to look down. Thorn was swimming back with long, lazy strokes.

“Go on, Storm!” he called.

“Bet she belly-flops.”

She threw a look of scorn at Mixi. Her fear had nothing to do with skill. But her enemy knew that. They all knew.

Da’s ghost never left her alone. Water had killed him, and the Dolphin was down there somewhere. She hated the sea, but just now she hated Mixi more.

“Boy-girl! Boy-girl!” her enemy chanted. A few others took it up. She was used to the teasing. Da had given her a boy’s name and died before she was old enough to ask him why. Storm shrugged. Head high, she stepped to the very end of the pier and dived. Clean. Precise.

Water ate the sounds of happiness and spite with a gurgle. It enveloped her, cool silk on hot skin. Her downward plunge slowed; Storm opened her eyes and saw a green-blue world. Rainbow fish chased each other through forests of seaweed. Fingers of rock pierced the weed, threatening. She arched her back, pointed her arms skywards and kicked away from the seabed, gliding back towards the skin between water and air. Maybe this time all would be well…

Cold fear congealed in her belly. There it was – a dolphin the size of a killer whale. The Trickster: her father’s smiling murderer.

The Elemental winked a tear-shaped eye. Stone-heavy, Storm began to sink. She must surely die – in this moment between one heartbeat and the next.

But she did not, and at last the pain in her lungs forced her fear-frozen legs to kick. She felt the dragging weight of the Dolphin’s gaze as she paddled, clumsy and weak, towards the world of Air.

2

They sat in a circle, just above the tideline, and swapped stories. The black sand was already hot. Storm plunged her fingers knuckle-deep, needing the gritty warmth.

Cloud was telling the story of his Choosing night. “Then, as I neared the shrine of the Albatross, I heard something following me on the path. Its feet went pad-pad-pad. And there was another sound – halfway between a pant and a cough.”

A murmur of anticipation ran round the group.

“It was one of your four-legged cousins, wanting to make friends!” shouted a boy. Laughter: it was a good joke. The mountain was home to a tribe of cloud leopards.

“So it ate you, right?” Thorn asked. “And was that before or after the Albatross told you that you were destined to become the greatest Air-witch ever born?”

“Oh, after. Definitely after.” Cloud grinned. “And how did you know what the Albatross said? It must have been the Dolphin whispering in your ear, saying: ‘Poor Thorn! You’ll never be as good a diver as that Cloud, even if you are a Child of Water!’”

“Ho ho.” Thorn tossed a handful of damp sand at his friend, and for a moment stories were forgotten in a barrage of laughter and stinging sand.

“Tell us about the shrines,” Mixi said suddenly, when giggling had replaced battling. “What are they like inside? What will we have to do? What do the Elementals sound like?”

Silence fell over the group. She’s gone too far this time, Storm thought. Most of the boys looked away, faces reddened with embarrassment. Cloud frowned at the tall girl, who sat fiddling with her thirteen plaits. Storm’s fingers itched to count her own braids, still damp from the sea: the proof that she was a Thirteen-year at last.

“We can’t talk about the ritual, Mix. You know better than that.”

Mixi shrugged and tossed her plaits over her shoulder. “Don’t be so stuck up, Cloud! We girls will find out next week anyway so what harm can it do? Who would know? Unless you go and snitch to the Elders.”

“Hey, Storm, tell us a story!” Plump Hild – who hated arguments – smiled at Storm, eyes pleading.

“Yes! Tell us a story, Storm. Come on.” The cry was taken up by the others. Only Mixi wrinkled her nose. But she glanced at Cloud, whose frown had grown thunderous, and closed her mouth.

“All right,” Storm said. If it hadn’t been for storytelling – the gift she had inherited from her father – she might have been shunned completely for her name. She looked around the circle of expectant faces. Except for Thorn, none of these people were real friends. “Which one do you want?”

“The one about the flesh-eating octopus!”

“Tell us about the girl who turned into a seal!”

“Baby tales!” scoffed Thorn. “We’re men now. Tell us about the time the Drowned Ones ransacked Yanlin, when our great-grandparents were our age.”

“Too scary!” moaned Hild.

“I don’t mind,” said Jai, who tended to take charge since she was the best sailor of them all. “Tell us about the pirates!”

Storm shook her head. The tale was popular, but it gave her nightmares. Thorn smiled at her. “Please, Storm.”

The others took up the cry, chanting: “The Drowned Ones, the Drowned Ones!”

She gave in and sat with her hands in her lap, staring ahead but seeing events long past. “Many years ago, when our parents’ parents were not yet born, the fame of our island spread far and wide. The sea-cursed race heard tales of the beauty of Yanlin, of its fertile gardens. Greedy as ever, the Drowned Ones decided to attack our home, murder our grandparents’ grandparents, and steal the island for themselves.

“Their plan was cunning: they set spies to follow our fleet at a distance. When trading was done and the monsoon winds began to grow in the west, the spies reported to their masters that our fleet was sailing for home.”

Storm paused, waiting for the suspense to build. They all knew this story. It belonged to Jai, whose grandmother’s eldest sister had been murdered. And to Cloud, whose great-great uncle had been killed on the harbour beach, a boy of twelve fighting his first battle. It told of the lost children of Yanlin who had been stolen, along with the island’s treasures, and taken away by the pirates. Tales whispered at midnight claimed those children had been eaten one by one: human boat-pigs kept for meat.

“Go on! Tell the next bit.” Voices clamoured. Then silence fell like a thunderclap at a new sound coming from the headland: the blat-blat-blat of conch horns.

Every face wore the same stunned expression Storm felt on her own. Had they just heard that? Really heard it?

Blat-blat-blat-blaaaaat!

Behind her, someone screamed – a shrill cry of disbelief. Storm jumped to her feet and saw a giant raft-town powering past the reefs guarding Yanlin. She would not believe her eyes – until the bleat of warning horns and confused shouts of her companions told her she must. The Drowned Ones had sprung out of her story and into life.

3

The sea-town of the Drowned Ones crawled into Yanlin harbour like a giant crab. Long double canoes, each pair carrying a bamboo hut, were lashed together with poles and ropes to form a floating platform. She could see pirates scurrying across ladders from boat to boat. A peaked tower rose from the centre of the pirate town. A yellow flag flapped from the pole on its roof – a flag with a face drawn as a crude red circle, its mouth stretched wide in hunger.

War canoes were tethered around the edge of the sea-town, steering and nudging, like sharks encircling a basking whale. Shouts drifted shorewards on the breeze. Dozens of anchor ropes snaked into the air and arced towards the water in perfect unison. The crab was ready to feed.

For a moment there was only the familiar hiss of waves and the distant splashing of oars. Then Storm heard Hild whimper. The noise seemed to release them all from a spell. “Weapons!” Jai shouted. “Go-go-go-go!”

They had trained for this all their lives. Now the years of drilling took over. Storm sprinted up the harbour path towards town, leaping over mooring ropes. She heard the footfalls of the others beside her. All ran silently, saving their breath for what was to come.

A voice in her head whispered: Please, please, please, please…

Storm and Jai were hard on the heels of the fastest boys. As those in front of her reached the main street, they divided, each heading home. Women and men poured out of the houses she passed; raced from the fields, garden tools still in their hands; emerged from workshops. Storm wheeled into her street. She needed her armour, her bow. She needed to see Ma…

Dain was a swordswoman. She would soon be fighting hand to hand.

Her mother could die.

…please, please, please, please…

As Storm spun round a corner of the main square, she spotted Teanu, the chief Elder, herding a group of olders and youngers towards the warehouse, a blazing torch in her hand.

“Minnow!”

Her little cousin’s head jerked towards her. His topknot was tumbling down as usual. Minnow’s eyes grew huge as they caught sight of her. For a heartbeat they stared at each other. She tried to tell him – with her eyes – how much she loved him, then tore her gaze away and ran on. The Drowned Ones were coming. Her job was to fight them, his to take shelter with the very young and very old. And if they lost the battle, if the Drowned Ones won… Storm shuddered. Teanu would not leave the island’s treasures to be plundered by pirates, would not leave the children to live as slaves. If weapons failed, her torch would defeat the enemy.

Ma glanced up as Storm flung herself through the door of their house. Dain already wore armour and was buckling her sword belt around her waist.

“Quick,” Ma said. “Let me help you.” She grabbed Storm’s armour from its peg beside the front door, held out the leather vest covered in small pieces of fire-hardened bamboo. In a breath, Storm was inside it, the leather straps tight-tied. Dain took her by the shoulders. Ma looked angry – Dain, who had a smile and a laugh for everyone. “Fight well, Daughter. And if you must, die well. If you live and I do not, remember that I love you, as your father loved you, and that we will meet again in the land of the Ancestors. Now go!”

Dain grabbed her sword and shield; Storm snatched up her bow and quiver of arrows. They ran from their house towards the sound of blaring horns, screams and shouts, and joined the stream of neighbours pouring down to the harbour.

She reached the harbour a heartbeat before her mother. No time for an embrace. One last sideways glimpse at her mother’s face, pressing it into her memory. As she ran to her post on one of the archery towers, Storm looked for the enemy raft. Her stomach clenched as she saw two war canoes full of pirates detach themselves from the sea-town and surge forward through the surf.

Why only two canoes? She punched through black shingle, scattering stones, slipping on seaweed. The crunch of her feet was lost beneath the shouts and screams of her people: bellows of anger and fear. She was a fast runner and had been assigned to the tower at the far end of the beach.

Most of the other archers were already in position on the wooden towers that circled the harbour like giant wading birds. Standing just above the tideline, the towers were Yanlin’s first line of defence. From the platforms archers could pick off the invaders one by one. Those pirates left alive would be dealt with by the island’s swordswomen and men. These were massed beneath the towers, their rectangular shields held together to form a wall.

Storm leapt over the hummocks of dead seaweed and driftwood deposited by the morning tide, whistling for the defenders of her tower to drop the rope ladder. In a handful of heartbeats she was scrambling up. She pulled herself onto the platform and drew the ladder up after her.

“You’re late!” shouted Anait over her shoulder, as she notched an arrow to her bow. The young mother lived close to the tower, on the edge of town. Cloud’s father, Gander, didn’t even turn his head. He stood, shoulders tensed, bow strung and ready, watching the canoes surging across the choppy waters of the harbour towards shore.

Storm was too busy stringing her bow to answer. She took her place beside Anait and slid an iron-tipped arrow from her quiver. Every monsoon she could remember, she had spent the sodden evenings sitting beside Dain’s fire, making her arrows. But this was the first time she would shoot at a human rather than a deer or wild pig. The thought made her feel odd: like she was dreaming. But then she spotted Ma squeezing into her place, raising her shield edge to edge with those of her neighbours, and Storm trembled with fear.

The lead war canoe beached. The first Drowned One leapt onto the shingle of Yanlin harbour and an arrow struck him in the throat. The man fell over sideways, flopping on the ground like one of the young ones pretending to be a fish. Storm felt sick. Then a victory roar rose from the islanders and Storm found herself screaming with the rest.

The remaining pirates had leapt out of the lead boat and were racing up the beach, still out of her range. The towers to her right loosed a hail of arrows. Several invaders stumbled, fell, and Storm felt her heart thrill with a new and pitiless joy: the pirates who had come to kill were themselves dying. Praise the Ancestors!

The second war canoe beached near her platform. In a heartbeat, a dozen men and women dressed in armour – and the iron hats and masks that made them look like demons – leapt from the boat and sprinted up the beach towards her tower. The last of them was a head taller than the others and twice as broad. The giant swirled a curved sword over his head as he ran. Its blade shone silver in the sun.

She took aim, loosed her first arrow. It flew straight and fast, but bounced off the leading Drowned One’s mask. She had missed the eyehole. She sent the next arrow into the leg of the same pirate, and the woman toppled over. Without taking breath, Storm sent another arrow after the first two. Arrow after arrow rained on the invaders. In the space of time it takes to yawn, the two dozen pirates storming the beach were a dozen.

Her heart pounded and her ears rang with the sounds of battle. The black shingle glistened with blood. Screams of pain rose over the beach. The wounded demon-breed who could still move clutched their swords and crawled after their fellows towards the waiting wall of shields. Storm watched their determination with horror and hatred.

She had used her quiverful. Now she and her companions were taking arrows from the store kept on the towers. The remaining invaders reached the line of sword-fighters. Storm was forced to stop shooting. She could only wait now, arrow notched – hoping for a clear shot.

She dared a glance at the harbour. The raft-town undulated with each wave rolling shorewards, anchor ropes stretched tight. When would the Drowned Ones send the second wave of war canoes?

A blood-curdling cry rose from the beach. Her bowgrip was slippery with sweat. The defensive wall of shields was broken: islanders and pirates faced off in small groups, slashing and cutting. Storm could feel her heart thudding as she watched the struggling figures on the beach below.

The fight was a deadly dance: couples meeting, parting, stumbling, falling, moving on to fight another. Suddenly, the dance changed tempo; the crowd parted. Storm glimpsed Thorn fighting a huge pirate – the giant! The Drowned One was twice the width of the boy; he advanced on Thorn like a mud-lizard, each slow step terrifyingly unstoppable. Storm aimed, desperately looking for a shot. Just as she was about to let fly, the dance moved on, and Thorn and his attacker disappeared.

She scoured the chaos but there was no sign of them. There were only a handful of Drowned Ones now, hacking at the islanders who surrounded them. She spotted the enormous Drowned One again, surrounded by three Yanlin fighters, swinging his curved blade like a demon. He would die soon: even a giant cannot fight in front and behind at once.

Storm glanced at the harbour. Surely the Drowned Ones must send the second wave now! But still the boats did not come. The pirate town floated in the harbour like a basking shark, its flag flapping in the wind. What were they waiting for?

Then she glimpsed a small boat struggling in the strong current that flowed just outside the harbour entrance. It carried a single pirate. The boat nearly foundered in the race, heeling until its mast brushed the foaming tops of the waves. The craft righted itself before being swept away from the harbour and northwards out of sight.

Anait made a sound – a cry or groan – and Storm’s eyes flew back to the battle. Two more islanders lay tumbled on the beach like sea wrack. The giant was advancing on his remaining adversary. When she saw who it was, Storm’s heart seemed to stop. Dain stood two arrow shots away, in the middle of Yanlin beach, facing the killer alone.

Storm took aim, knowing that the shot could not reach. The Drowned One advanced on her mother. He was twice the size of his opponent. Dain fought desperately, defending with all her skill. But each time his sword glanced off hers she tottered from the force of the blow.

The pirate was stronger; the woman quicker. She dodged and lunged, twisting away from his strokes until the Drowned One seemed to go hornet-mad. With a roar, he raced at Dain. His blade plunged towards her head. Storm screamed as she loosed her arrow, knowing it was hopeless. The Drowned One’s blade struck Dain’s shield and sliced the iron and bamboo in half. Ma crumpled to the ground, stunned.

The giant raised his blade. Ancestors! Storm prayed, sick with desperation. Save Ma! She put all her love and fear into the thought. A gust of wind tore across the shingle and grabbed her arrow just as its force was spent. Held in the wind’s grip, the shaft rose again, hummed through the air and struck the Drowned One in the only part of the man’s head not protected by armour: his ear.

4

The giant’s roar of pain carved through the other battle sounds. His sword dropped to the ground as he clapped a hand to his ear and – to Storm’s horror – tugged the arrow from his head. The pirate pulled off his helmet, revealing a topknot of white hair. An old man, but still terrifyingly strong. He staggered as he bent down, fumbling at his sword.