Song of Storms (Song and Storm Trilogy Book 1) Read online

  SONG

  OF

  STORMS

  SONG

  OF

  STORMS

  The Song and Storm Trilogy

  Book 1

  Kayla Maya

  Song of Storms

  Song and Storm/ Book One

  Copyright © 2020 Kayla Maya

  www.kaylamaya.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the express written permission from the author.

  ISBN B084JN68LT (eBook Edition)

  ISBN 9798605292203 (Paperback Edition)

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similar to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Editing by articlewriter4u

  Cover design by © germancreative

  To my fiancé,

  This one is for you

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty - One

  Chapter Twenty – Two

  Chapter Twenty – Three

  Chapter Twenty – Four

  Chapter Twenty – Five

  Chapter Twenty – Six

  Chapter Twenty – Seven

  Chapter Twenty – Eight

  Chapter Twenty – Eight

  Chapter Twenty – Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty – One

  Chapter Thirty – Two

  Chapter Thirty – Three

  Chapter Thirty – Four

  Author’s Note

  Acknowledgments

  About The Author

  Links

  Chapter One

  CHAPTER ONE

  Bryn crept around the corner of the building, her eyes roving the streets. Several townsfolk wandered about minding their own business, and Bryn preferred it that way. She noticed the king’s guards making their rounds, their polished silver armor glistening in the waning light as it too crept behind the Whispering Mountains just beyond the castle. Reaching up, Bryn grabbed the thunderbolt necklace she always wore, a symbol of what used to be a better time. A time when her father was still alive and tending to his sick wife and his six children that were left behind during his death. She had refused even to touch the necklace these last few days, but today, it brought her some semblance of comfort. She sighed. She could not fall apart, not now, not after she promised herself, not when she had to steal for a living to provide for her family. The guards rounded the corner to where Bryn stood, stopping in their tracks as they noticed the raven-haired young woman drenched in filth and the dew from this afternoon’s mist.

  “Who goes there?” the tallest of the guards inspected Bryn, his eyes wandering back and forth from her malnourished body. He, too, was no stranger to the famine that wreaked havoc over the land, yet he also did nothing to stop it. Like the king himself. “I said, who goes there?”

  “My name is Trystan.” The lie rolled off her tongue effortlessly. “I am just passing through.”

  The tall guard eyed Bryn, judging if he should believe her or if he should send her to the gallows just because he could. “Step aside. You’re in our way on our route.”

  “I’m terribly sorry,” Bryn apologized, stepping to the side, her eyes sweeping the premises again.

  The guard noticed. “What are you terrified of, Little One? Scared of the big bad guards?”

  Bryn scowled, her hands curled up into fists, her nails digging into her palms. Her body felt like it was an electric current, with her veins sparking. She sucked in a breath, the tips of her fingers sparking, itching to shock the guards who stood in her way. Instead, she reigned in her magic, dropped her head, and walked in the opposite direction towards the bakery. She could hear the guards laughing from behind her. Again, the spark of electricity flowed through her veins, eager to show those guards just who they should fear. Bryn walked up to the bakery window, pressing her face to the glass to see what laid behind it. Rows of fresh bread and pastries, like tarts and pies, and Bryn’s favorite, the chocolate crème bar that had the taste of coconut and freshly ground cinnamon.

  The ground rumbled from thunder, the sky being illuminated by quick bursts of lightning. Bryn had to be quick, if not, everything she had worked for would fall apart, and she would return home empty-handed once again. She ducked into the store, the bell above swinging and making noise to alert the shopkeeper of her arrival. A plump man in a white apron strode out from behind a curtain, wiping his flour hands along his apron. He narrowed his eyes as Bryn walked about the store, holding a burlap sack and stuffing it full of sweets and bread. The ground rumbled once again, and she quickly grabbed more food, eager to leave. She hoped she had enough coin to persuade him to keep what food she had. The storm was quickly approaching, making the hairs along her arms stick up with electricity, her anxiety mixing with the weather outside, making it appear merciless. Bryn raced up to the shopkeeper, placing a few meager bronze coins onto the stand, staring up at the plump man earnestly.

  “This is not enough.” The shopkeeper counted out the coin, holding out his hand for her full burlap sack.

  “Please, sir,” Bryn begged. “That is all I have. My mother is sick and cannot work, my father—”

  “Died in the mines, I’m sure,” the shopkeeper sighed. “Just like half the cities, men have died. Fine, take what you have and go. Storm’s fast approaching, and you don’t want to be caught up in the it.”

  Bryn knew that all too well. Quickly she ducked out of the shop, making her way towards her home that led deeper into the city. She felt a pang of guilt at how she had lied to the shopkeeper. She certainly had the coin, what with stealing some from a gentleman who was far more forthcoming with Bryn than she liked to admit. Fat droplets rained down inches from her face, falling around her as thunder broke through the sky, the ground quaking from its thunderous roar. The electrical current in Bryn’s veins sang as lightning crackled in the sky, rain pouring down around her. She had run out of time. Casting an electric shield over herself, Bryn ran the rest of the way to the open gates that led outside the castle to her small village. The guards had huddled inside to keep dry, laughter coming from the room inside the wall. She was lucky this time. She watched as the droplets hit her shield, bouncing off and landing on the muddy earth that squelched underneath her knee-high boots. Boots that she had stolen months ago from an old traveling merchant.

  The small town of Skeg laid right outside the city gates, the small homes all but dark and quiet, save for Bryn’s home, where a small fire burned within. She hoped her eldest brother Lukas wasn’t home from the mines tonight so she could talk her mother into allowing her the right to leave Skeg and wander to the Academy farther up north in Stonehenge. An academy for sorceresses and sorceresses. A place where it was preferred to have magic than being cast out by a king who disregarded his people and kept away from those with magic, persecuted them into submission, often resulting in death if they were not forthcoming. Pausing
just long enough to disband her shield, Bryn made her way up the steps and directly into the chest of Lukas. From a glance, no one could tell that Bryn and Lukas were siblings with his fair hair and bright, baby blue eyes.

  Bryn favored their father with the dark, raven black hair and fiery amber eyes. A once tall and proud man who cared deeply for his family. A man who was lost in the mines, forcing Lukas to take on the role of a parent to feed the family with his meager earnings. Earnings so small that it wouldn’t even feed himself if he was the only child. Lukas leaned against the doorframe, inspecting Bryn from head to toe, noticing that she was not drenched from the rain, and her bag of bread and sweets were just as dry and very appetizing.

  “You didn’t steal those, did you?” Lukas inquired.

  Bryn shook her head as the world around her shook and got drenched in rainwater. Her electrical currents wanted out, wanted to join in the song of the storms that raged above. She was surprised that she had held it in for so long, even though her fingers itched to touch the land in electricity and the king with it. That is why Bryn craved to leave, to master her powers, and to bring peace to the land.

  “I did not. I just bought them,” she told him.

  “With the coin you stole, I presume,” Lukas sighed. He moved to the side to allow Bryn entrance into their home. “Come on in. Mother has been asking for you.”

  Bryn’s ears perked up. “Mother asked for me?”

  Lukas didn’t answer her, going inside to tend to the fire that smoldered in the hearth. Dry firewood was scarce in Skeg; with all the rainfall that they had this year, nothing was dry, not even the hay that was placed in barns were saved from the pouring rain that continued its onslaught. Except for just the other day when Bryn and Lilac played in the pond, catching frogs. She began to wonder if the weather was mirroring her moods, her emotional phases throughout the day. Bryn curled her fingers into fists, her anger mixing with her powers, creating a lightning storm that cracked along the dark sky, illuminating her brother’s features. He, like their father, was covered in soot from head to toe; only the whites of his eyes and teeth were visible. He had also gotten the horrible, chest heaving cough that came with working in the mines. Bryn began to wonder if her older brother was sick, if not just coughing up soot from his twelve-hour shift.

  The inside of their home was just as meager as Lukas’ wages. There were only two rooms, one for their sick mother, the other for Lukas, who rarely slept there some nights due to his long shifts. The wooden floor was littered with Bryn’s younger siblings, all of them curled in blankets and soundly asleep in front of the hearth, catching its waning warmth. The youngest of the siblings, Lilac, was Bryn’s favorite sister. She, much like Bryn, went into the city to steal coins or food if she could come home and feed the family. The young girl was only eight and already had a knack for thievery. The one table in the home was pushed into the kitchen to provide room for Bryn and her siblings to rest, and the only couch was taken by Brandon, Lilac’s best friend. A gut-wrenching cough emanated from her mother’s room—a cough much like Lukas’ but far wetter and far more deadly.

  “Ms. Sondra is seeking help,” Lukas spoke from behind her. “An easy seamstress job.”

  “No,” Bryn said much too quickly. She couldn’t bear having another job, couldn’t even fathom having to deal with a boss that cared so little for her just like the king. Especially after the last job fell through again…

  “Fine,” Lukas sighed. “Best to go see Mother then.”

  Bryn’s heart fluttered, hearing her mother’s cough, her own throat tightening in fear at the thought of losing her mother too. Almost as if in response, the night sky cracked with lightning, making her jump in fright. The lightning, also, was upset. Walking slowly to the door, hand reaching out to grab the handle, Bryn began to fear that she would witness her mother’s own last breath. Opening the door, she crept in, seeing her mother’s fair hair spilling to the floor, her mouth agape and breathing labored. Sweat coated her brow and nightgown, her ashen pallor conveying her lack of nutrition and dehydration. Bryn’s mother was falling apart, and there was nothing she could do to stop the sickness from spreading, nor ease her mother’s pain.

  “Mother?” Bryn tiptoed to her mother’s bedside, careful not to wake her. She grabbed her mother’s clammy hands, feeling the soft skin now peppered in blood blisters and wrinkles. “Mother? It’s me, Bryn.”

  “Bryn?” her mother cracked open her eyes, the rims tinged with red. Her voice was hoarse, unused, and smelled like rotten fish left in the sun for several days. Her mother smacked her lips together, running her tongue over her cracked lips. “Bryn.”

  “Yes, Mother?”

  “How is your father? Is he still at work? I haven’t seen him in ages.”

  Bryn’s heart sank. Her mother’s symptoms had gotten worse through the last few days, and now, her hallucinations had kicked in. Some nights Bryn slept soundly, some nights she laid awake at night hearing her mother screaming her father’s name, screaming her name and Lukas’. It seemed to her mother that Bryn and the rest had abandoned her to her illness, letting her die on her own devices. On nights like those, Bryn often went out to the barns to sleep, taking comfort with the rats and the smell of cattle. She refused to hear her mother’s final screams, even if it meant leaving in the night. The only thing Bryn could think of was to agree with her mother, least she starts a screaming fit once more.

  “He’s fine,” Bryn assured her. “He’s been working long hours to pay for food and to keep this roof over our heads.”

  “Ah,” her mother smacked her lips once more. “Such a nice man I married, eh?”

  “Yes, Mother. You should probably get some more rest.”

  “I think you’re right, Bronwyn.”

  Bryn flinched at the use of her full name, a small vein pulsing from her right brow. She stood, letting her mother’s hands rest on her chest, already fast asleep. Bryn sighed and made her way out the door to the living room where Lukas sat in the kitchen, holding a steaming mug of tea clasped in both hands. He kept his gaze on the dark liquid, ignoring Bryn completely.

  “You shouldn’t lie to her like that,” Lukas glanced up. “It’s not good for her.”

  “Neither are these powers I have.”

  Lukas opened his mouth, no doubt prepared to tell her that she was special, the only one in the entire family history to own magic. Ancient magic. The magic that she had no control over. Bryn refused to hear it, sulking out the door and into the night.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Bryn spent the day in the city. After last night, she figured it would have been best to sleep in the barn again to avoid Lukas and whatever he wanted to tell her. Of course, she had left the food, so her siblings and mother can eat. No doubt, Lukas had already gone to the mines at the crack of dawn, keeping his distance from his storm wielding sister. In fact, she began to wonder if her older brother began to resent her for her powers, if not feel betrayed that she is the one to hold magic, not him, he is only a well-built man forced to work in a mine to provide for their family. Oh, Bryn had many opportunities to work in the city. She had skilled hands to work and weave silk, yet she could never build herself to do so. She could work to provide, to ease the burden off Lukas’ shoulders. Yet, the work-life did not suit Bryn in the least. Cheating and stealing was the way she wanted to do things. It meant she was free. The first time she had gotten a job, was the worst day in history. Not only did she pin several women with needles, but she also couldn’t keep her mouth shut from telling them off when they scoffed at her butterfingers.

  Clambering up a few overturned barrels and onto an almost sunken roof, Bryn heaved herself up and onto it with the grace of a cat. Walking to the edge away from the alley and towards the street, Bryn plopped down, legs dangling over the edge and crumpet in hand. She figured that even if the guards were to see her, there were no laws about climbing roofs to sit down and eat. They couldn’t know that the crumpet she was munching on was stolen, of course.
She mainly wanted to watch the show as the guards from yesterday showed up, drunk and swaying about. Bryn stifled her laughter at this show, hoping no one could hear her giggles from up above them. It was pretty comical, seeing them sway into each other and apologizing to the passerby that gave them dirty looks and grunts of disapproval. Bryn brought her crumpet to her mouth to finish what she had when she heard a woman scream.

  Pivoting to the noise, Bryn watched in horror as wagons sped through the streets filled with bodies of young boys covered in soot. The drunk guards spun into attention, running towards the wagons that held the dead youth, and the other miners that drove it. Bryn stood, running to the side of the roof and back down to the ground. Her heart leaped in her throat, her veins cracking and sparking, begging her to let her powers flow freely. In response, clouds circled up above, lightning crackling through the sky. She sped into the street as two more wagons showed up with more dead miners.

  Lukas.

  Bryn raced to the wagons, trying to wiggle her way into the crowd to see if another family member of hers had met the same fate as their father. She inspected the dead bodies, almost feeling awful for being so relieved that Lukas was not in one of the wagons. Yet, she still had a bad feeling churning in her stomach, making her want to retch. Quickly, Bryn brushed by the crowd, running out of the city and speeding past Skeg in the process. Several of the townsfolk asked Bryn what was wrong, but she couldn’t answer their questions, nor could she use her voice if she wanted to. Her fear grew the closer she got to the mine, the closer she got to the smoke and the sound of coughing and screaming. Lightning cracked along the sky, threatening to downpour once more. Several more dead bodies were thrown into wagons, all of them speeding to the city to the castle to be shown to the public and then claimed by their families and loved ones.

  Bryn fell to her knees in front of the mine, heaving from exertion and sweat coating her brow. Retching from lack of oxygen, Bryn struggled to her feet and nearly retched again at the sight before her. Hundreds of young men laid on coats, their skin blistering and charred from the soot. Some choked on the soot, and others succumbed to death. Bryn raced about, hoping to see Lukas in the crowd, hoping that he wasn’t stuck in the collapsed mine or sent off in a wagon to be claimed. Then, she found him leaning on a tree for support and coughing. Bryn ran to his side, grabbing his arm. She saw the blood coating the side of his mouth and the blood that pooled along with his enclosed fist. Lukas was injured.