The Storm Dragon's Heart

Prologue

***

The Cavern of the Prophet lay deep within the heart of Yasei Forest, centered between the original nine qengai villages. The Prophet interpreted the inscriptions that magically appeared within the pages of their chapter of the Sacred Codex. After determining which qengai was called to serve and the nature of his or her mission, the Prophet would send a silver-beaked magpie to the appropriate village to summon the required qengai by shouting their name three times.

Only a few thin shafts of early morning sunlight managed to pierce the dense, evergreen canopy overhead, but it provided more than enough illumination for a k'chasan like Iniru to easily avoid fallen logs, stumps, thorn-tipped vines, and bogs. She darted from shadow to shadow, hurrying through the rainforest quietly and, as always, cautiously. The dangers so close to a village were few, but it was important for a qengai to maintain a constant state of heightened vigilance, even on her home turf.

Iniru's large, fur-tufted ears twitched back and forth, taking in all the sounds around her. Above her, loud birds in a myriad of bright hues cheeped, warbled, and sang. In the distance, monkeys howled and chattered. And among the foliage and ground debris, snakes slithered and all manner of insects and rodents crept and crawled.

The wind shifted. Iniru's nose crinkled. Somewhere close by lurked a panther, either perched in a tree or soundlessly stalking its prey. Iniru changed her route to lead her farther away from the cat. It wasn't likely to attack, unless threatened or starved, but it never hurt to be extra careful when dealing with them—especially today. She couldn't risk anything going wrong on her first and most important visit to the Cavern of the Prophet.

Besides, Iniru secretly didn't mind the delay changing her route would cause. It meant that for another precious few minutes, she was just a k'chasan girl, still training in the arts of subterfuge and combat, and not a full qengai burdened with the responsibility of a dangerous mission from the Sacred Codex.

The shadows lengthened as she slipped deeper into the forest. The birds and insects quieted. The vegetation changed.

Thick air—heavy with the cloying scents of fungus and rotting vegetation—invaded her nostrils and seeped through her clothes and into her fur. Despite the stifling atmosphere, she shivered.

The rainforest around her village had always seemed simultaneously ancient and new, with old trees and ferns dying and new ones sprouting up to replace them. But this part was different. Her mother had once said to her that walking into the heart of the forest was like stepping back in time, to a primordial forest that had once covered the entire continent of Okoro, long before k'chasans or any other peoples had come here. Iniru couldn't disagree.

The farther she went, the thicker the forest grew, closing in on her. Twisted, vine-wrapped firs of a type she'd never seen before leaned into one another. Red-striped bamboo stands grew so tightly together that they formed massive impenetrable barriers. At times, she was forced to climb over the bloated roots of towering magnolias, as if they were boulders on a mountain. Blue-tinged ferns with wide leaves lay amidst clusters of briars, their thorns dripping a strange sweet-scented ichor. And crimson flowers bobbed out from fungus clusters hanging off the sagging limbs of cypresses.

Shivering again, she suppressed her fear as she had been taught. Her pace slowed and every sense came alert. She crept forward, her eyes scanning the unnaturally dense vegetation on either side. A clear path had formed, leading her forward. That should have made her feel better. She had heard stories of interlopers being trapped by the forest until they starved to death. Even qengai would find their way blocked by an impenetrable wall of trees if they had not been called. No one could reach the Cavern of the Prophet without permission.