RAINY SEASON

by Nyki Blatchley

    "I'm sick of this weather." Failiu scrunched her face into as ugly a scowl as possible, gazing out into the torrential rain pounding the forest around their makeshift shelter. "We had proper weather in Errish."

    "Well, it didn't really matter in Errish," pointed out Karaghr. "Considering you can get from one side of the city to the other without going outside, I'm surprised you even noticed."

    Failiu sighed. It was true that, until they'd left the great city of Errish more than a month before, the weather had never meant much to her. She desperately missed the impersonal, enclosed welcome of the city that she'd known for all her sixteen years, the high towers sheltering the streets, the narrow passages of the undercity that didn't change with the season. Adventures in the wide world were all very well, but the wide world was uncomfortable. It was wet.

    "We'd be better in that village down by the shore," she pointed out. "They have houses there."

    "Not really houses." Karaghr made a vague, dismissive gesture. "Huts. Wooden huts, with reeds for roofs."

    "Oh, well." Failiu looked around exaggeratedly, taking in the damp, cramped cavern. She'd tried every bit of the jagged floor for sleeping, and there seemed to be nowhere she could stretch out without lying on something uncomfortable. "If _that's_ all they've got, why would we want to change this _mansion_? Who needs _beds_?"

    Karaghr sighed. "Fai, you know we can't get a bed there."

    Failiu was silent. She did know, of course, but she still sulked for a moment on principle. "Why in Kebrai's name did we insist on being put off here?" she asked at last.

    Although she wasn't really demanding an answer, Karaghr took the question literally. "Well, it was this or go back to Errish," he said. "After that attack, the captain wasn't going to risk putting in anywhere else. Did you really want to go back?"

    Failiu was silent for a moment, knowing that he was right but unwilling to admit it. "Maybe we should have gone another way?" she suggested. "West, or something. What's so special about Klou-es-Thaal?"

    Karaghr didn't even answer that. When they'd left Errish, over a month ago, there hadn't been time to choose either ship or destination, and they'd simply been unlucky to end up on board a vessel that got caught up in the war raging among the islands.

    "We must have something they want," Failiu sighed, gazing mournfully out into a world that seemed mostly water.

    He grinned. "You could sell your virtue," he suggested, "but I don't think you brought it with you."

    "Pig." She thumped him in the chest, a little harder than she'd meant to, and he doubled, gasping in surprise. "Maybe I should start charging you for it."

    Karaghr looked so panicked all of a sudden that Failiu could help giggling. "Don't worry, sweetie, I wouldn't deprive myself like that."

    She wandered to the cave-entrance and gazed out morosely into the rainy forest. She hated it. Even during the brief dry periods, the water steamed up of the ground and the trees till it was almost impossible to see anything, and hordes of insects came out, every single one of them obsessed with biting her.

    She felt so desperate that she'd several times almost suggested that they offer to work in return for shelter in the village. That was ridiculous, of course. They were outlawed sorcerers, not peasants, and no-one could expect them to do menial chores.

    It hadn't seemed important, at first. The island was lush and beautiful, the abundant forest of the upland interior falling to white beaches and blue sea, dotted with fishing-villages. It hadn't mattered when they found that none of the villages seemed to recognise the value of money and they had nothing to trade for shelter. They'd simply camped out on the edge of the forest, living on the fruit that grew everywhere, and waited for the next ship to come along.

    Then the rains had started.

    At first, Failiu had actually enjoyed the rain, and both of them had fun swimming in the rivers and pools that were suddenly everywhere, drying off in the sun that blazed down after the day's showers had passed by. She'd been intrigued by the sweet smells that had assailed her nose. The closest she'd ever known to this was the time, as a street-urchin, she'd broken into a rich merchant's house during a banquet. But the showers had grown heavier and more frequent, until now the rain was falling almost for the whole day, pounding and hissing. It hardly seemed like water-drops falling any more, more like standing underneath a waterfall.

    "We could try doing magic again," Karaghr suggested after a moment. "If we practiced a bit first..."

    "They're not interested. Anyway, it's not magic, not really. Just tricks."

    "Not all." He had his stubborn face on. "That bit where I made the pebble appear in the child's hand: that was real translocation."

    "Maybe it was, but they all assumed it was sleight of hand. That lot, you could summon up Kebrai himself, and they'd think it was a trick.      I've never met anyone so suspicious."

    Karaghr grunted in annoyance. Having been confident that simple villagers would be dazzled by their tricks, enhanced by a few minor spells, he'd taken it really hard when, instead, the dour-faced fishermen and their families had only watched briefly before turning away to go about their business. Only the children had stayed for the whole show.

    "If we could do something real, something tangible, something..."

    "Something that would be useful to them?" Failiu creased her face in thought, wondering if Karaghr actually had something. "Like what?"

    He looked around. "We could stop the rain for them," he suggested bitterly.

    She thought about that. They'd studied some basic weather-working spells in the forbidden tomes that had got them thrown out of the temple, and she thought she understood how they worked well enough to make the rest up. They could do it, but...

    "They might not want the rain stopped," she pointed out. "Maybe they rely on it. Maybe there wouldn't be so much fruit, if it didn't rain."

    "Fai, you saw the village." Karaghr's face was eager, and she knew he was developing one of his obsessions. "They're fishermen. They wouldn't care that much about the fruit. Point is, have you seen any boats going out since the rain started? Course not. Who'd put out to sea in weather like this? If we can stop the rain for them, they won't need the fruit. Anyway, there's plenty already. Believe me, they'll go for it."

    Looking at her lover's gorgeous face, eager and alight, Failiu had to admit that he had a point.

    "Let me get this straight," said the headman doubtfully. "You can stop the rains? How can I believe that?"

    Karaghr turned to Failiu in appeal. The man was speaking a language enough like Errishi that she could follow it easily; but Karaghr, who had only learnt the language when he'd come to the city a few years before, was clearly struggling.

    "We have power," she explained, widening her eyes in a way that she knew made her look cute and younger than her sixteen years, as far as was possible with hair plastered to her face by the rain. The headman was a small individual approaching old age, a worried expression permanently etched onto his creased, olive-coloured face, and she knew by instinct born of a childhood in the gutter that he'd respond to her better as a daughter-figure than if she tried to arouse him. "We're great sorcerers from Errish."

    "If you're so powerful," demanded a middle-aged woman, narrowing her eyes, "how come you're still here? Can't you make a spell to carry you over the seas?"

    Failiu hesitated, floundering a little. Though they'd discussed the various queries they expected to be raised, this one hadn't occurred to either of them. It was, she had to admit, a good question.

    "We can't cast magic for our own benefit," said Karaghr, who had clearly caught the meaning of the woman's words. "It's forbidden. We may only benefit others."

    The villagers exchanged dubious glances. Failiu wondered for a moment whether her lover's barbaric accent, which she'd always found unutterably sweet, had defeated their comprehension. She glanced at Karaghr in awe; it was a superb answer. It might even, she reflected, be true.

    But, after a moment, the headman nodded. "So you merely serve others? You perform your magic out of kindness?"

    "Of course," Failiu agreed quickly. "If this world were a perfect place, we would wander to find wrongs to be righted, and we should ask for nothing in return. As it is..." She shrugged. "We have to live, if we're going to benefit others. But we ask for so little in comparison with what we offer."

    "Ask?" The headman's face closed up, and Failiu guessed that he could probably out-negotiate half the merchant-princes of Errish. "What do you ask?"

    She spread her hands. "So little. Nothing but shelter and food in your beautiful village until a ship arrives on which we can take passage. Now, what's that compared with what we're offering you? Fishing all year round, without the need to cower uselessly in your homes. No need to repair all the damage the rains do. And think how much more pleasant it will be. What can you lose?"

    As the villagers went into a huddle on the far side of the large community hut to discuss the proposal, Failiu drew Karaghr a little aside.    

     "That was brilliant, Kari," she whispered. "I'd never have thought of that."

    "You did all the rest, though." He was looking at her with an expression of half-adoration she always loved, especially since it usually led to fun. "You were so convincing, Fai. The gods themselves would have taken the bait. You're just so wonderful, I could eat you."

    She giggled, in spite of trying to keep a grave impression for the villagers. "Later, darling. I promise it'll be worth it. Now, look like a distinguished sorcerer dedicated to doing good."

    By the time the huddle broke up and the headman returned, followed by the leading villagers, the two young sorcerers wore grave, dedicated faces. "We've discussed your proposal. Although we have been taught that only the gods may determine the weather, it seems entirely possible that you've been sent by the gods to do their will. You may have food and lodging in the village in return for what you offer. When will you begin?"

    Failiu and Karaghr exchanged glances. There seemed no real reason not to begin straight away, but Failiu guessed that the villagers would expect them to need preparation. Besides, it would give them time to have a bit of fun before the work started. "Noon is the most propitious time for such spells," she told him gravely. She suspected that dawn might have sounded better, but there were limits. "We shall begin at noon tomorrow."

    He inclined his head. "As you will."

    The rain was lashing down at noon, naturally, but Failiu and Karaghr had agreed that they were going to have to perform the incantations and rituals outdoors. The little they knew about weather-working made it clear that it should be performed in contact with the weather that was to be altered. Try as they might to think of an excuse, neither could see any way that the inside of a hut fitted such a description. So, making as impressive a spectacle as they could, they stood on the beach, its white sands soaked and heavy with rain, invoking the elements.

    Failiu wished that they could do this at a time when her head was thumping a little less. The village had given a spectacular party for them. She had the impression that the village needed very little excuse for a party, and there had been dishes of spiced fish and fruit laid on, together with endless cups of the potent spirits brewed by the islanders, as well as a drink they said was made from a mushroom that grew in the forest. After a few cups, Failiu distinctly remembered that she and Kari had ridden off together on the backs of giant winged lizards, up into the clouds where they'd spent several years making love.

    It had seemed less spectacular, however, when they'd been woken halfway through the morning, tangled together among the blankets of their sleeping-place in the headman's hut. She'd felt too sick and dizzy to get up, and Kari had been no better, until their host's daughter Shasi had brought them a disgusting drink. It had made Failiu feel her guts were being turned inside out, but she felt a lot better after drinking it. She wondered vaguely whether her face had the same green tinge as Kari's.

    In fact, the rain made her head feel a little clearer, and she turned to Karaghr, who stood beside her facing out to sea. "What do you think? The Drahzh Invocation?"

    Kari frowned slightly, though she wasn't sure whether it was from disagreement or an attempt to concentrate through his headache. "That, or the Command of Reijinini. But Drahzh is probably more stable."

    They should really, Failiu knew, have sorted this all out beforehand. They'd meant to set some time aside last night, but somehow it had never happened. Still, they had to make a good show for the villagers. Simple, superstitious folk like this judged as much by the show as by the results, and if the spells were performed quietly and unobtrusively, the results would likely be put down to nature or the gods.

    "Um... Kari, do you know it all? I only ever learnt about two-thirds."

    "Well, more or less."

    "How more, and how less?" She'd been afraid of this.

    "Almost all." He seemed a lot less concerned, which somehow didn't reassure her. "Don't worry. The bits I don't remember are probably the bits you know. And what's the worst that can happen?"

    Failiu glared at him. "Being taken by demons to suffer an eternity of torment?"

    Kari made a dismissive gesture. "There's no demons involved in this: it directly compels the forces of nature. At worst, it doesn't work."

    "Then we'll be stuck." Failiu glanced nervously around at the villagers watching them.

    "Do you really think they'll know if we're finished or not?" He gave his characteristic winning grin, though it seemed a little more gingerish than normal. "If it fails, we can try the Command of Reijinini, or as many as it takes, before we find one that works."

    Failiu felt uneasy about that, but there seemed little choice. The villagers seemed peaceful enough, and they'd been effusively friendly since accepting the offer of help, but she didn't feel like testing that friendliness if they failed to fulfil their promise.

    "All right, Kari, you do the main part and I'll do the responses. That makes sense, as you remember more of it. Ready?"

    For an answer, Karaghr raised his arms and launched into the spell, intoning the twisting syllables in a loud voice that made them seem somehow more dramatic. Following his incantation carefully, Failiu made the proper responses, filling in her imperfect memory of the spell by taking her cue from him. The words were in the ancient language of Kebash, the lost city drowned by the wrath of the gods at the beginning of time, and she knew the meaning of only a few phrases. They were both good at learning by rote, though, like the brightly coloured birds from the south that could mimic human speech, and the spell rolled out across the beach, line after twisted line.

    With the small part of her mind that she kept apart to watch her actions - an essential requirement of any spell-casting - Failiu knew that something was going to happen, for good or ill. She could feel herself full of power that pushed outwards in an attempt to burst through her tight, hot skin. She was aware that Karaghr was visibly glowing, the aura about him pulsing with a pale blue colour. Something vast was around them, but what came from within was even more powerful.

    Failiu had never felt anything like this before. Though they had tried a few small spells together and knew how well their voices and their wills meshed, they'd never dared try much while still in the temple for fear of discovery, and this was by far the strongest magic they'd ever attempted. It was as though some energy were filling her up, charging her until she was ready to send it bursting and surging outwards to do her will. She could feel Kari all around her and within, as she was within him: a more complete and intimate possession than anything she'd known in their lovemaking.

    The watching part of her mind knew that they were completely linked now, the same aura surrounding them both and pulsing with a deep turquoise shot through by coral and gold. It grew brighter and hotter; she could feel sweat pouring off her, helping the rain to soak her clothes and her hair. Finally, chanting the last command together, they flung their power at the skies.

    A column of light split the clouds apart, and sheets of lightning lit up the heavens, sending roll after roll of thunder back to earth. Finally, a huge jag tore across the overcast, stabbing down far out to sea and blinding Failiu for an instant. When her sight returned, the rain had stopped and the sun shone fiercely down from a deep blue, cloudless sky.

    Kari was huddled beside her on the sand, but when she collapsed at his side, he grinned at her triumphantly. "We did it," he said, and raised himself up a little to acknowledge the cheering villagers.

    "Where do you think the rain's gone to?" asked Shasi idly.

    Failiu levered herself up slightly from the tree she was leaning against to look at her friend, the headman's daughter who'd brought her the drink on the morning of the spell. In the twenty days they'd stayed in the village, she'd formed a warm friendship with the girl who, though a year or two older, showed a childlike awe at Failiu's experience and sophisticated city ways.

    "It's just... gone. Why would you think it's gone somewhere?"

    Shasi frowned, chewing on one of the sweet stalks that grew everywhere. "Well... Rain always goes _somewhere_. When it's finished with the island, it always sweeps out to sea, and you can watch it go off somewhere else. Doesn't it do that in Errish?"

    Failiu was at a loss for a moment. It had never occurred to her that anything happened to rain after it stopped; she was simply grateful that it had stopped. In Errish, even above ground, the buildings towered so high that it was almost impossible to see what was going on in any part of the sky that wasn't directly overhead.

    "Well, that's when it goes away naturally," she said, hoping that Shasi hadn't noticed the hesitation. "This was magic, so it didn't go anywhere. It was destroyed."

    "But it's created by the gods," Shasi protested. "How can you destroy what the gods have made?"

    Failiu hesitated, biting back her initial impulse to say that it was nothing to do with the gods. To these people, whose lives depended on the fragile safety of small fishing-boats out on the sea, the gods' control of the weather was all-important. They claimed that, every so often, the Sea-God would breathe destruction on the island in punishment for some obscure misdeed, although Kari had told her privately that this was probably just one of the storms that happened regularly further south.

    "Well," she said at last, as inspiration struck, "everything's created by the gods, isn't it? This tree was, I suppose, but I can still destroy it. It's not as though we were destroying the gods themselves."

    In fact, she had no idea whether any of this was true or not, but she'd grown to enjoy the expression of respect and wonder on her friend's face whenever she made such pronouncements, and she wasn't disappointed this time. "Oh, I wish I knew as much as you do, Fai. I wish you could stay here forever."

    Failiu winced inwardly. She liked Shasi and didn't want to tell her that, much as she was enjoying herself for a short time, she'd never in her worst nightmare contemplate staying forever in such an isolated, uncultured place. "It would be nice," she half-mumbled at last. "But Kari and I have taken an oath to travel and see the world."

    They had, of course, taken no such oath - it was merely their desire that drove them. But it seemed to impress Shasi, and she nodded gravely, her long dark hair falling over her pleasant, olive-skinned face, seeming about to speak when a twig cracked behind them in the forest. The girls exchanged a grin as heavy feet tried to creep up behind them, and a pair of hands shot forward around the tree to cover Failiu's eyes. "Guess who."

    "The Demon of the Ingrowing Toenail," she suggested calmly, making Shasi giggle, then pulled Karaghr round into her lap, kissing him deeply.

    "Where are the others?" she asked after coming up for air.

    "Target-practice with lizards." He hauled himself upright and kissed her again. "I got bored."

    Since their arrival in the village, Shasi's younger brother Velk and his friend Lelo had decided that Karaghr was the best thing that had come to the island in living memory and had taken to following him around everywhere. Failiu had been surprised by how much Kari had seemed to enjoy their company, since they were both a couple of years younger than him. She knew that he'd spent a lonely, frustrating childhood in a village little bigger than this, and she suspected he was, a little belatedly, starting to appreciate the pleasure of aimless playing. In any case, the boys' adulation could hardly have put him off.

    Taking advantage of the fine weather since the spell, they'd all decided to go into the forest today, Shasi and the boys sneaking away from their chores, and had passed a while enjoying a shrieking, headlong chase game that had brought them far into the island's interior. The girls had tired of it first, settling themselves against the tree to rest in the heavy heat beneath the high canopy.

    "Tell you what," said Shasi, sitting up suddenly. "We're near the Sky Crag. Let's go up to the top. It's higher than the trees, and you can see the whole island from up there."

    Picking up Velk and Lelo on the way, Shasi led them to the foot of Sky Crag. It seemed a strange place to Failiu: a jagged outcropping of rock that rose abruptly from the forest floor, mounting like a rocky cliff to cut through the canopy high above. She suspected that it was unusual, though she really had no idea what a hill in the middle of a forest was supposed to look like. Ever curious, Karaghr walked around it, and Failiu was surprised how quickly he appeared back where they waited.

    It was a scramble, more than a climb, though there was one point where they had to reach almost to full stretch and pull themselves up a sheer pitch. At last, breathless and laughing, each in made it to the summit and collapsed in satisfied exhaustion.

    "Hey," said Lelo suddenly, "what's going on?"

    Failiu sat up abruptly, feeling a sudden tension around her. A green carpet spread below, and she almost felt she could step down and walk on it. Brightly coloured birds flickered to and fro amid the green, and she could hear the eerie shriek of monkeys from down below, emphasising the feeling of being remote and far from the world.

    But Lelo was pointing up, not down. Looking out, Failiu saw that she could indeed see the whole island, and far out to sea. But the sea wasn't the sparkling blue they'd left that morning. The water had an angry grey-green tinge, and the sky, out on the horizon, was a roiling swirl of black clouds.

    "The Sea-God's breath," exclaimed Shasi, and Failiu saw that her face was as pale as her olive complexion would allow. "He's come back."

    "How do you know?" her brother demanded.

    "He came when I was little," Shasi insisted. "I remember. You were only a baby. This was what it looked like."

    Failiu shuddered. The air felt oppressive, even here above the trees: as oppressive as the fear that gripped her. Looking at the unnatural swirl of clouds, Shasi's question came back to her: _Where do you think the rain's gone to?_

    "The Sea-God's angry with us," said Velk.

    "Why?" Karaghr objected. "What have you done to make him angry?"

    There was a long silence as Failiu, suspecting that she knew what their answer would be, tried to avoid everyone's eyes. At last, Shasi said, her voice unwilling, "Maybe he's angry about your spell."

    "Of course not," Karaghr insisted. "That's ridiculous. Why would..." He ground to a halt, and it was clear to Failiu that he was thinking the same as she was.

    "We'd better get back to the village, hadn't we?" she said at last.

    No-one spoke during the return journey, and Shasi and the boys walked well away from their friends, glancing surreptitiously at them and looking away quickly when either caught their eyes. The air was very still under the trees, scarcely moving the foliage, and the birds and monkeys high above were silent. Even the insects seemed to have fled.

    By the time they reached the edge of the trees, though, everything had changed. The biggest branches were swinging in fitful gusts and, when she emerged, Failiu saw that the sun had vanished. The sky now overflowed with livid, roiling clouds and sand from the beach swirled about in the air. Out to sea, the storm she'd seen had come closer.

    The village was in a frenzy, men and women running to and fro to catch up children and possessions, babies screaming in fear and bewilderment, dogs barking unheeded. As she and her companions ran into the village, there came a cry from the headman. "Shasi, Velk, thank the gods you're safe. And Lelo." Then his face and voice hardened. "Get away from them," he snarled, glaring at the two outsiders.

    "But..." Karaghr began.

    "You did this, you blasphemous sorcerers. You insulted the Sea-God with your meddling, and now we're all being punished for listening to you. I'm going to kill you."

    He drew a long knife, the kind the villagers used to gut fish, and advanced on them. "No! " Shasi screamed. "No, they didn't mean..."

    There was a blinding flare between them and the headman, as if lightning had come down to arth, and Shasi ran to him. Looking wildly around to see what had happened, Failiu saw Karaghr standing with his arms raised. "What have you done?" she yelled at him.

    "I didn't hurt him." He looked suddenly less certain. "I don't think. We've got to get out of here, Fai. Now."

    "No." She was terrified, but how could she just run away from the people she'd got to know so well? From Shasi, who could have been a friend? "You go if you want. I'm going to help them."

    Pulling away from his attempt to grab her and staggering in the rising wind, Failiu stopped dead at the sight that met her eyes. The storm had almost made landfall. Through it's murk, she could see a great funnel of water between sea and sky, coming their way. Her stomach went suddenly hollow. She'd never seen such a thing, and wondered for a moment if this really were the vengeance of the gods.

    Failiu staggered back in terror, scrabbling to get out of the spout's path, then realised that it was coming straight for where Shasi knelt over her father. She tried to scream a warning, but the storm caught it and tossed it away.

    "Fai, we've got to get away." Kari was yelling in her ear, his face so twisted with fear that he almost seemed to be crying.

    Failiu tried to lurch towards Shasi, but the wind battered her feet away, leaving her struggling on hands and knees, powerless to help. Shasi belatedly looked up to see the apparition bearing down her. Failiu saw her scream, though there was no sound, and then both the girl and her father were sucked into the funnel and were gone.

    "We've got to get inland," Karaghr yelled over the roaring of the wind.

    Parts of buildings flew through the air, following the swirls of the storm. A beam struck a man on the back of the head, and he fell, blood spurting from the wound. As she looked around, Failiu realised that the only people left in the village were lying motionless; the rest were fleeing the shore. There was nothing to be done here.

    "We can get back to our cave," she shouted. "It's not far."

    As they crashed through the forest together, trying to outrun the storm, Failiu felt that she was going to be caught up at any moment by some vast, invisible hand and dashed lifeless to the ground. The forest was in turmoil, trees thrashing and branches crashing down around them, one only barely missing her head. The wind roared at their backs, pushing them on at a headlong pace, though sometimes swirling around to buffet them back or to the side. And rain fell from the murk that seemed little more than arm's length above: torrential rain, which seemed to be depositing every drop they'd prevented from falling since they'd done the spell.

    Failiu hardly knew what was happening. The wind deafened her and she could see barely two paces ahead, but it was terror more than the elements that left her blind and helpless. The water that fell from the sky was like the sea, and it seemed to her that she was drowning in it. She thrashed in panic, till Karaghr's hand grasped hers, and she suddenly felt only terrified.

    She was vaguely aware of him beside her, struggling to keep his feet on the suddenly viscous ground, but she could see little else in the raging chaos. It was more instinct than knowledge that sent her, pulling him behind her, diving into the relative calm of a little cave. They collapsed together.

    Steam was rising almost too thickly to see anything as Karaghr and Failiu finally emerged from the cave where they'd cowered for maybe hours, maybe days, from the fury of the tempest. Failiu had huddled up to Karaghr, veering like the raging winds between crying and paralysis as she wondered whether she'd been carried off to a demon's torment. Karaghr was clearly as terrified as she was, but he'd held her through the insane roaring of the wind and the hissing of rain, until it had gradually faded.

What she could see through the steam that rose from the ground, drawn up by the dazzling yellow sun that threw down its heat from a once-more blue sky, looked like desolation. Many of the smaller trees had been torn out by the roots and huge branches lay strewn about, while the ground was still treacherous with mud. The birds had started crying their defiance again, though, and the insects buzzed busily through the steam.

    "We're alive," she said blankly.

    "I'll take your word for it," he commented, trying to smile. "I don't understand. Why did that happen?"

    Failiu was silent for a moment. She'd thought about it while they'd hidden, during the few times her terror had let up enough to think of anything, and she kept coming back to Shasi asking where the rain had gone. "I think," she said slowly, "they were right. We did it."

Karaghr didn't answer for a while as they picked their way through the devastated forest, but he finally asked, "What do you mean?"

    "I think..." She tried to frame in words what she instinctively felt. "I think it was _meant_ to be raining here. And when we stopped it, we... upset something."

    "You don't mean you think we actually did offend this Sea-God of theirs?" He sounded incredulous.

    "No, no, not a god. More like... Like scales. Imagine scales that are balanced, then someone comes along and takes something off one side. It upsets everything, and the other side goes crashing down. I think... well, this was the crash."

    They walked in silence again for a while, before Karaghr said suddenly, "You really think so? You think we created all that?"

    "Well... sort of."

    "Now, that's what I call power." Turning in surprise, she saw his face alight with wonder. "Just imagine..."

    "No." Failiu was appalled. "No imagining. It's awful."

    He came back from wherever he'd drifted off to. "Of course. I didn't mean... It's just... Think of it, Fai. Aren't you even a _little_ impressed by what we can do?"

    She stared at Karaghr, wondering suddenly whether she really knew him. "Shasi's probably dead," she said blankly. "And her father, and Kebrai knows how many more. That's because of us: because of what we did. If that's power, I don't want it."

    He looked at her quizzically and seemed about to speak a couple of times, but bit off whatever he was going to say. "Maybe you're right," he said at last, though without sounding convinced.

    Failiu's thoughts were occupied with the memory of what had happened to Shasi, as well as wondering about Kari's reaction, as they made their way to the edge of the forest, where they looked out across even greater destruction. Much of the low-lying land beside the sea was still underwater, stagnant pools of salt-water trapped amongst the roll of the surface. Even the ground there at the edge of the forest smelt strongly of salt.

    Part of the headland on which the village was built was gone, broken off and washed away by the storm's fury. The village was still there, though little was left standing. Some of the huts were nothing but piles of collapsed wood and mud, and others not even that. Failiu wondered whether any had actually been picked up whole and flung somewhere.

    If the villagers had taken refuge like themselves, some at least were back now, picking through the ruins of their homes with slow, jerky movements, as if too stunned to move properly. Others were joining them, emerging from the forest, but Failiu was sure there weren't enough of them. She could see bodies strewn around the wreckage, though there was no sign of Shasi either among the dead or the living.

    "We should help them," she suggested.

    "Fai, have you gone out of your mind? If we go anywhere near them, they'll kill us. We should get as far away as possible, over to the other side of the island. There are villages over there too, and we can wait for a ship near one of them. Or we might even be able to get one of them to take us in."

    "Kari, I don't think we should do any spells. Certainly no weather-magic."

    He considered. "I suppose not." He grinned. "Not till we're better at it, at least."

    She turned, a furious retort dying on her lips as she saw a body just inside the tree-line. It lay on its back, sightless eyes staring past the branch that had smashed its skull, but enough of the face was left intact to recognise Lelo.

    Karaghr saw him a heartbeat later, and his face paled. Failiu saw him swallow, but then he shook his head vigorously. "It wasn't our fault. We were trying to help. We couldn't have known that..."

    "He was your friend." Failiu felt cold, though she didn't fully understand why. "Like Shasi. They're dead, don't you understand? They're dead because of what we did. Does it matter whose fault it is?"

    Karaghr stared at his friend's body for a little longer, then shook his head. "All right, I'm sorry. I'll be more careful in the future, I promise."

    Failiu remained silent for a moment, struggling with herself. She knew deep down that this wasn't enough, that Kari would do the same thing again when the shock had faded. What could she do, though? Leave him? The thought of being without Kari sent her spinning into a vertigo of panic, and she knew she couldn't bring herself to do it.

    "Come on," said Karaghr. "It'll take a couple of days to cross the island, so we'd better get going. You'll feel better when we're away from here."

    Failiu doubted that, but he was right about needing to leave. Casting a last, shuddering glance at the villagers trying to clear up, and trying not to look too hard at the dead bodies, she sighed and followed him into the jungle.

    Nyki Blatchley is from the UK.  He graduated from Keele University in English and Greek and now lives just outside London,

working in media analysis. 

    He has had about two dozen stories published, mostly fantasy or horror, in various magazines, webzines and anthologies, including Aoife’s Kiss, AfterburnSF, Chimaera Serials and The Thirteenth Fontana Book of Great Horror Stories (immediately followed by a story by Lovecraft).  His novel     At An Uncertain Hour was published by StoneGarden in April 2009, and he is working on a fantasy trilogy.

He is an administrator for the online fantasy writers’ group fantasy-writers.org.  He has also had many poems published, and has performed poetry and music at various venues around London, including frequent appearances at the legendary coffee-house Bunjies, which in the 60s featured artists such as Bob Dylan, Paul Simon and David Bowie

October   November  December 2009