Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 242728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1214(@200wpm)___ 971(@250wpm)___ 809(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 242728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1214(@200wpm)___ 971(@250wpm)___ 809(@300wpm)
Another cloudless night—just like all the rest since I’d been found by the Nhil. The weather had never been so settled when I’d walked alone. Many nights the sky would open, drenching me and rinsing me clean. And if it hadn’t been for that rain, I would’ve died of thirst long before they found me.
The three men stopped playing their drums, and the clan shifted to gather tighter around the fire. Silence thickened as Solin passed his staff to Olish who darted forward to claim it. The ashy swirls of his spirit tattoo gleamed in the firelight.
Once his hands were free, Solin turned to Tiptu with outstretched arms. With a broad smile, Tiptu passed her naked, squirming babe to the Fire Reader.
Tral patted Solin on the shoulder as the chief and chiefess stood back, linking hands with their older children.
Solin shifted toward the large fire, cuddling Bon close. The orange flames danced over the baby’s dark skin, gleaming in Solin’s ebony eyes.
Holding Bon aloft, Solin spoke in a gravelly voice, echoing with power, “This feast is in Bon’s honour. Tonight is his naming ceremony so the spirits know he is claimed by the living, loved by his family, and answerable to those who use the name that binds him to this world.”
Solin’s gaze travelled over each of us. “I present to you Bon, son of Tiptu and Tral, brother of Naben and Aktor, third in line to rule.”
“Bon!” The clan raised their hands and voices, startling me.
Once everyone fell quiet, Solin continued, “We welcome a new spirit into our ever-growing family. May he be cherished and cared for and guided by our collective wisdom.”
Another whoop; another fist to the moon.
“Bon is third born to our leaders. Third in line to lead. Vow, here and now, to keep Bon safe and secure within our family. Recognize him as your own because we all share the same blood, same bone, same breath. We are Firenese. Fire sparks within each of us, just like within him.”
Grasping Bon under the arms, Solin lifted him high into the sky. “Reveal that spark within you now. Share the element we all carry, so he can find his own. He is ours, he is one of us, he is yours.”
Prickles darted down my back as everyone repeated, female voices threading with male, young with old. Palms were raised to the moon, and I gasped as the faintest glow of flames appeared in each of the Nhil’s hands. Just an ember. Just a flicker. But it was fire, and it burned. “He is ours, he is one of us, he is yours.”
My head ripped to Niya.
She cupped a faint glowing flame, just before closing her fingers and snuffing it out with a wisp of smoke. The entire clan dropped their arms; the fire that they’d somehow conjured gone as quickly as it’d appeared.
How?
This simple, happy clan, who all lived joyfully at the whims of the grass sea and migrating bison, had power in their blood that was only revealed at ceremonies?
Questions ran wild as Solin gave a nod of approval, tucking Bon back into his arms as the youngling scrunched up his face and began to cry. With a chuckle, he ducked to the soot that’d formed from floating embers landing outside the stone-ringed fire and smeared his thumbprint right over Bon’s heart. The ashy mark gleamed in the flames as the entire clan roared at the moon.
Tiptu’s cheeks were wet with tears as Solin passed him back to her. He kissed her cheek and slapped Tral on the shoulder before facing the fire and gathering the clan once again.
My eyes remained on the chief and chiefess as Tral wrapped his arm around his mate, and Tiptu gave her crying babe something to suck on—slipping her finger into his mouth with a practiced motion, hushing his cries so Solin could speak.
No one held fire in their unburned hands anymore, and the air of celebration switched to apprehension.
Niya bowed closer. “What is he doing? The naming ceremony is complete.”
“How did you do that? How did you hold a flame in your palm?”
She gave me an odd look. “Because we’re descended from fire. How else do you think we start our fires so easily?”
That didn’t answer my question. It only granted more. “I’ve never seen a fire being started. They’re always just...there.”
“They’re there because we ignite them whenever we choose.” She smiled. “We are envied for how quickly we can bring heat and light. The other kingdoms do not share our gift.”
“Other kingdoms?” My head rushed, trying to picture more people, more homes, more...magic.
Niya kept her eyes on Solin who stood imposing and watchful. “We are Quelis...the word for fire. But there are three others. Lokath, earth. Rivoza, air. And Vetak, water. Each govern their own people. And each clan have their own allegiance and gifts.”