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The WeatherMaker Hearts Desire By Lady Lilium Characters: 4906

Updated: 2018-07-10 19:02


Blunkit frowned thoughtfully at her. 'I think we're safe enough waiting here for the moment. And besides, I think we could all do with some rest, you especially.'

Annabel sat back as the others milled around, fumbling in the dark to their horses and unpacking their bags, rolling out their sleeping mats and lying down uncomfortably on the rocky floor. They were only just about able to see each other in the failing light; and recognised each other now only by their voices as they spoke.

'I'll keep watch' Flunkit told the others quickly before moving away and slipping out of sight.

When things had settled down, Shawn approached Annabel, offering her his sleeping mat.

'Thank you' she whispered to him, taking in tentatively.

'What did you mean when you said you could light the way' Shawn asked her as she sat down.

It was quiet in the cave, and her voice echoed slightly as she spoke, she was clearly heard by all the others.

'I am not like other people' Annabel told as Shawn sat on the rocky ground beside her. 'I can wield magic and do things that others would never think even possible.'

Farrell listened to her as she spoke, and suddenly remembered Danior's words that he had spoken, what now felt like years ago.

'There is a woman I have heard of that has the same abilities as Amaia is supposed to have. There is a good chance that she is the one you seek. Her kind are so rare after all.'

'What do they call your kind?' Farrell asked turning to her.

'My kind?' Annabel said. 'We are known as Weather Makers.'

'Weather Makers?' Carrot spoke in his accent, leaning forward closer to her.

'What are they?' Shawn asked her.

'We are beings who can use magic to manipulate the elements, and bend them to our will. There are more of us out there, many throughout history, but our kind are scattered. There was once a time when we were many. Now we are rare.'

'How do you know all of this?' Flute Stick asked her.

'My grandmother was a Weather Maker' Annabel explained.

'Soooo' Arlen said, speaking slowly. 'You're saying….this ability is passed from parent to child?'

'Yes' Annabel told him. 'Occasionally it skips a generation, but if your mother was a Weather Maker, then there is a high chance you will be one too. Well…except if you're a boy. For some reason there are only female Weather Makers.'

'How strange' Arlen mused.

'Hey Arlen' Farrell said with surety. 'Do you ever rememb

er seeing Ramana's mother at all?'

Arlen was so caught up in the strangeness of the situation and the strange question he had just been asked, that he forgot for a moment he still hated Farrell.

'No?' Arlen replied without hesitation. 'Why would you ask that?'

'Do you remember' Farrell went on, 'that all her early life Ramana was kept behind walls…?'

Arlen stared at his brother with his brow furrowed and mouth half open.

The penny dropped.

'Oh gods' Arlen said. 'You're saying Ramana was a Weather Maker?!'

'Her. Her mother. Amaia. Why do you think Ramana was hidden from the world for so long? She was imprisoned for the first eighteen years of her life. Why do you think her father kept her behind such high walls? Why do you think that neither of us ever met her mother, not once in all those years?'

'I just thought that the grief from losing so many children…' Arlen trailed off.

The other mercenaries, unfamiliar with the situation the brothers spoke of listened silently.

Arlen stated at his knees as he spoke.

'That day…' he said quietly, 'the day she was killed…everything seemed out of place.'

'We found bodies further down the road' Farrell informed him. 'I never told you before…'

'Bodies?'

'Dead men. Soldiers, bearing the crest of the king. But…one of them bore no injuries at all. It was as if he had suddenly died of a heart attack. But he wasn't that old.'

'You think that was Ramana's doing?' Arlen asked lifting his head.

'I don't know' Farrell shook his head. 'It could be Amaia's doing for all we know.'

Arlen looked back at his knees. 'I saw something strange also. It seems unimportant now…but…'

'What?' Farrell asked.

Arlen looked up again. 'There was a great crack running across the road. I walked in the woods often in those days, and have never seen anything like it. The falling leaves hid it from view…but I tripped….and….' he shook his head as if to clear unpleasant thoughts. 'It was so out of place.'

'That does sound like something a Weather Maker could do' Annabel spoke up.

'What do you mean?' Arlen asked her.

Shawn's attention and the attention of the silent mercenaries moved onto her now.

'While each Weather Maker is different, each has many powers, many of which they can combine. It is possible for some to crack the earth, and to stop a man's heart in his chest and kill him where he stands.'

'Can you do that?' Carrot asked her.

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