Mirror

Chapter 2 - Tempest

Tempest jogged the perimeter of town, senses straining to hear a soft clucking or to smell manure (which was extremely difficult with the waves pounding against the cliffs and air reeking of salt). Sirens began to wail, and panic spread through the town like an infection.

"There it is! There's one of dem filthy demons! Scum of the earth," gruff voices shouted, and Tempest knew that this would not be an easy task.

The sky was dark and beginning to belch sheets of rain, so it was hard to tell what time of day it was. She guessed it was nearly midday, but it could've been night, for all she knew. She still hadn't found anything. Her stomach gave an unhappy gurgle. She hadn't eaten since they'd left for the Coast Region. Don't worry, she thought to herself, by tonight, I will be sitting with the fiercest Storms, having the best banquet ever. It'll have more food than I could imagine in my life!

She spotted a red, wooden building next to a cottage.

"Looks promising," she said to herself. The heavy odor of hay and animals swirled to her in a breeze, and she wrinkled her nose. "That's definitely a barn." She ran up the hill of springy grass, exhaustion beginning to weigh heavily on her limbs. Come on, you are NOT weak. If Blood saw you like this, you'd lose ranks faster than a cat shedding in the summer, she told herself fiercely.

Soon, she'd made to the top. It was oddly... quiet, at least for a building supposedly full of animals. Then, she realized that another chromavein was already in there. An ice-vein, she thought. She could tell by the frost on the wood and open doors. She peeked in.

The ice-vein had a fat sheep in his arms. It seemed frozen, as if lulled into a winter slumber. But Tempest knew it was dead.

The ice-vein turned his face, and Tempest gave a start. It was Permafrost, the chromavein whose band took her in when she only a year old. She felt a twitch of pride and maybe regret. He would pass this final test of a chromavein's life. Then, she felt the cold envy that she always did when she saw him. She would never be as good as him.

Permafrost slung the sheep's body over his shoulder and made his way to the entrance. Tempest lurched away from the door and leaped onto the roof before he could see her. A rush of cold air followed in his wake. She waited, pressed against the roof, until his bluish shape disappeared into the grove of saltwillows. Tempest felt a rush of relief. It was easy: go in, grab an animal, run back to the rendezvous.

She shimmied down the side. Glancing around, she entered the barn.

It was musty and dank and silent. Only a chink in the roof let a shaft of dusty light through. Tempest realized that there were no animals here, only the faint scent of death. That sheep was the last.

"Earth's breath!" She cursed. Then, she stiffened. Someone was approaching, and it was too late to slip out of the barn.

She looked around wildly, feeling trapped. The air in here was dead, making it nearly impossible to summon wind. In the dim light, she could make out a ladder. She bolted up it, rolling onto the attic just as the doors were thrown open with a bang.

"They're in here; I don't know how many," said an angry voice. "Slaughtered my best chickens, and now they come steal my best rams."

"They deserve to die. Just our luck they decided to raid us this fall. More than usual, I think," another voice muttered. He then raised his voice, "Alright, no more games and hiding. Your life ends now." Tempest heard a sword unsheathe. Those mud-skins and their metal tools. They never do any work, letting their metal do the work for them. Still, she felt fear begin to grip her. Think, cloud-brain! Fear is a weed; don't let it take root!