The Breath -Sixth Whale Book 1

*16*

The feeling of nausea was finally beginning to subside, and Shae was able to observe her surroundings for the first time without the room spinning. The cavern they were in now was huge. Sunlight shone through the enormous cave mouth that overlooked the cloud sea. shimmering bluebirds darted off the cliff face that the cave was embedded in and dove fearlessly into the thick clouds. They darted and weaved seamlessly between cloud and blue sky. Bird song filled the air. The salty breeze from the clouds reminded her of a time long ago, there were days when it was peaceful like this but then there were the storms. Sailing through a thunderstorm in the cloud sea was a terrifying thing, treacherous lightning strikes could destroy a boat from above or below. Beautiful as it was now, Shae was grateful that she was being chosen to stay behind. On land at least there was a chance, you could run. If you fell into the cloud sea you were dead. It wasn't like the huge saltwater lakes she once read about that separated the twin nations of Xan and Darkut if a shipwrecked there your body might be washed to shore. She shuddered ad the memories of black clouds rolling above and beneath her lighting in all directions. She swallowed down a new wave of nausea and moved away from the edge. She didn't know what stopped the Ilands from falling and she wasn't sure she wanted to, in case knowing bought them crashing down towards the whale.

She looked over at the boats, nearly done each one shone magnificently but Thandre was starting to sway on his feet. Despite her current condition, she had caught on to what was happening. Creation magic. Both Thandre and Derys possessed it. When she was a child she'd heard stories, how evil it was, a blasphemy against the creator. She could admit that this opinion was somewhat skewed. In her childhood, all magic and magic users were evil in the stories. Creation magic though, even in The Halves it wasn't looked upon kindly. She wondered if anyone other than her and Vern knew about Thandre. Maybe Old Aggie, but if she knew Shae doubted it would have been kept a secret for long. Perhaps the guild knew? She had the impression from Donnie that Thandre wasn't a popular man with them. Was this part of the reason why?

She looked over at the Witchfather who was looking slightly less certain of his footing. He'd prepared for them to stay the night and Shae was relieved. She never wanted to be taken anywhere with that strange spell again. She'd rather wander the tunnels for an eternity. She pictured Derys. Perhaps not.

At Tinker's Temple bells rang out in mourning. The sound was clear and cut through the noisy streets and even managed to silence The Halves. The noise continued for over an hour and many of the Halves residents had an icy dread settling into the pits of their stomachs. Many looked to see if they could catch a glimmer of the barrier, needing sudden reassurance that it was still there and they were still safe. The Bells gave off a strange sound, the hollow ringing of the largest bell was loud was heavy, but it was a rapid tinkling of the smaller bells, like windchimes caught in a localised tornado that set the odd tune. What should be soft and gentle sounds were urgent and frantic. Truth be told the bell ringers didn't actually know what they were doing. The old boys had been horribly reluctant to train younger priests lest they lose their positions and when three of them died suddenly just a month before there was nobody left to train them. Hundred of years of traditions were being trampled on because nobody had thought to contact the other temples in the sect for help. Still, despite being an embarrassment to the art its meaning stirred something in the heart of their followers. 

Their High Priest was dead and the Witchfather was the reason why. 

The High Priests last moments had been far more peaceful than those of the lives he'd been so instrumental in ending. There was no violence or pain, no anything. He'd simply been tuned wrong for magic and Thandre's command had stopped his heart. It started again, but he'd not woken up, spending his last few days sleeping, while he slowly glided into the next realm. When he died he had perhaps expected that his soul would be collected up and ferried to the next world, by some all-knowing being, or perhaps he would receive some divine enlightenment. He didn't expect the glowing golden eyes staring into him or that insane smile.