*Reposted from 2017
Today, I’ve got another excerpt from Airwoman for you…
Jade squinted into the glare of the setting sun. The heat of it warmed her face, but a chill crept in behind it—a reminder that the night was closing in. Jade’s eyes fixed on Mt. Reve looming over the horizon; the evening light bathed it in pink and outlined it in gold. A crowd of several hundred Taraqans gathered—a sea of red in the now vacated marketplace—but Jade didn’t hear a sound. The silence was a mark of respect for Papa, whose body lay on a wooden pallet at the edge of the cliff in front of the gathered crowd.
Jade looked at her father, so peaceful and still. She could barely believe it was him. The man who had laughed and played and taught her, now seemed so absent.
Absent.
He would never again tell her stories about travelling, or teach her about Merrynese trade customs, or instruct her in the use of some strange artefact acquired by an employee, or whisper advice at the auction house. Nor would he kiss her forehead, or pull her into a hug that squeezed the breath out of her, or fly over the cliffs with her. Jade’s eyes moistened and she blinked furiously, determined to hold herself together.
The sun slipped under the horizon and darkness crept in. The High Priest, wearing the elaborate mask of Our Lady Taraqa, came to stand in front of the crowd. He held aloft a flaming torch and addressed them in a loud voice.
“In the shadow of Mt. Reve, the dreaming place of Our Lady Taraqa, we beseech Her to admit our beloved brethren, Magnus Gariq, to pass into his eternal rest. O mighty Taraqa, Magnus was woven into the fabric of Your dreams, as we all are. One of the best of us, Your faithful Taraqans and Travellers, Magnus was a great man. He excelled at everything he put his mind to. First, a distinguished career in the Traveller Force, then later he built up Gariq Industries to be one of the largest companies in Taraqa. He worked tirelessly to make Taraqa a better world, a richer world, for all of Your people.”
Jade heard murmurs of assent as the Priest spoke. She was proud that her father was remembered in such glowing terms, and so many people came to bid him farewell. Beside her, Mama whimpered and the twins fidgeted. Next to them, Uncle Zorman stared rigidly into the distance. His face didn’t betray any emotion. Jade admired his strength, hoping her own demeanour was as composed. Discretely, Jade scanned the other faces in the crowd. There were company employees and senior officers of the Traveller Force. Kyssa stood with a group of Travellers. Neve stood among apprentices to the Healer Guild. The Chief Healer stood close to the front.
In fact, the only face she didn’t see was Axel’s. She scanned the crowd again, her eyes flitting over every face as her stomach tightened. How could Axel miss this? Everyone in Gariq Industries knew Axel was virtually second-in-command to her father. As Jade scanned the last faces in the crowd, her stomach dropped.
Axel hadn’t come.
She hadn’t seen him since that day in Vertin Gorge. Of course, she’d been distracted with the funeral preparations, but now it seemed strange. Jade put a hand to her throat, struggling to draw breath. Why had he not visited and shared his condolences? Why had he not bothered to see how she was faring? It was so unlike him. Her mind buzzed and she barely noticed what was happening around her. Why hadn’t he come?
She thought of their last meeting and fought the urge to cover her face. She’d tried to kiss him and hadn’t seen him since. Was that the reason? He’d promised to speak to Papa, but was that an excuse to get away from her? Had Axel even tried to speak to Papa before he died?
“Now it is time to return Magnus Gariq to his creator. O mighty Taraqa, allow Your servant to pass into the afterlife with You.”
The priest’s booming voice brought Jade back to the funeral. The light of his flaming torch, held above his head, burned spots into her vision. Jade blinked them away, as the priest arched backward and turned his masked face up to the fading sky. He lowered the flames of the torch toward the mouth of his dragon mask. Then he snapped himself upright again, spraying a tongue of flames in a semi-circle. The crowd gasped with Jade as the pallet holding Papa’s body caught alight. It was only a moment before Jade couldn’t see Papa’s body for the flames that danced over it. Goosebumps rose along Jade’s arms, despite the warmth of the salty evening breeze.
There was a tap on her shoulder and Jade drew her eyes from the flames to see Uncle Zorman signalling to her. Jade held her breath as she walked towards the burning pallet, an almost unbearable heat enveloping her as she bent down to pick up one end of the rope lying on the ground.
Uncle Zorman took up the rope on the other side of the flaming pallet. At his nod, they leapt, synchronised, into the air. The rope strained against Jade’s grip, as the slack gave out and the pallet rose from the ground. Jade gritted her teeth, her arms and shoulders strained with the effort of carrying the heavy load. Smoke streamed off the pallet and she stifled a cough.
The rope stung her hands, but Jade only tightened her grip. She wouldn’t disgrace her father by dropping him now. As they left the shoreline behind, a headwind pushed back at her and she had to beat her wings strongly to make progress. The wind whipped at her loose-fitting clothing, the fine fabric providing little comfort against the chill in the air. Jade fixed her eyes on Mt. Reve. The fire blazed hot between them and she didn’t want Papa’s body falling into the sea before they’d reached his resting place.
Zorman picked up his pace and she forced herself to match it. Mt. Reve loomed ahead, drawing ever closer. A billow of smoke curled upward from its crater, as though Our Lady Taraqa welcomed Magnus’ arrival. The blisters on Jade’s hands screamed at her. Every muscle on her arms, shoulders and wings protested.
Not much farther, Jade thought, gritting her teeth.
The most dangerous part of the journey was here. An active volcano, Mt. Reve could erupt without warning. When Jade and Zorman flew over Mt. Reve, it could drench them in burning rock and ash and make it their resting place as well. Jade swallowed her fear, watching the ascending plume of smoke—a smudge against the deep purple of the fading sky. She hoped Our Lady would accept Pappa without incident.
Zorman raised an eyebrow at her. Now?
I’d love to hear what you think of the excerpt–let me know in the comments. Have you read Airwoman? Please consider leaving a review on Amazon or Goodreads or the platform where you purchased your book. It really helps other readers to find it too.
*Photo by Amador Loureiro from Unsplash.com