The Gods of Garran: Chapter 48

Background color
Font
Font size
Line height

A novel by Meredith Skye

* ^ * ^ * ^ * ^ *

The sandstorm lasted a night and a day. Morrhan waited impatiently for the end without. And without hope. They were too late. Whatever had befallen the tsirvak, had already happened.

Towards evening, Crysethe returned from the entrance where she'd spent hours watching.

"The storm is breaking," said Crysethe. They all ran up there. It was true. As quickly as it had struck, the storm ended. A patch of blue sky could be seen in the distance.

"Let's pack up," said Morrhan, heading back to grab his stuff. No one wasted any time. Minutes later, they were ready to go. They loaded up the yithhe, which had been shelters at the front of the cave.

Traveling at night was actually better than traveling during the day, because it was cooler. The last clouds cleared up and the stars appeared.

All night they rode through the desert towards the tsirvak, and several hours into the next day. One thing Morrhan dreaded about going home—Norbi would not be there. Morrhan would never see him in the clan home again: or Ashtan or Channik.

Finally, the water towers came into view. They had made it to the Sand Plain Clan tsirvak.

Morrhan whistled and spurred his yithhe towards to entrance to the cave. Yithhe are not very light on their feet; even when they run—it's closer to a fast lumber. Crysethe passed up Morrhan on her own yithhe, arriving at the door before first.

Already, there were warning signs. The Sand Plain banners were slashed. Missa's potted plants lay scattered in pieces at the entrance. There were signs of destruction.

Morrhan slid off his yithhe and had his bow in hand when he followed Crysethe into the tsirvak. He had no idea what to expect, but braced himself for the worst.

In the first sitting room, pots were smashed on the floor. Plates broken. Stools lay strewn in pieces. Numb, Morrhan strode through the wreckage. He kicked a broken stool. "I can't believe the Chanden did this!" he shouted. Mirrhia and Derish examined the room.

"If they'd just left me here, instead of dropping me off at the Desert Wind Clan cave, then we could have saved our clan!" yelled Morrhan, pained at the thought. Why hadn't Koethe protected the clan home? Surely he knew that Morrhan couldn't make it back in time.

"The clan was gone already," said Mirrhia, still studying the scene. Everyone looked at her.

She indicated the floor and walls. "There's no blood. No sign of a scuffle. And all the gear is gone," she said, pointing to the closet.

Morrhan stared around at the room. "There are no bodies." He felt a surge of hope.

"Exactly," said Mirrhia.

"Gone where?" asked Derish.

There was silence.

They all looked at each other. Where would they go? "Gythane Peak," said Morrhan slowly. There was a secondary cave up there, frequently used by the Sand Plain Clan. It was difficult to find—about half a day's ride from the tsirvak. They kept supplies there in case of emergency.

Mirrhia met his eyes. "Yes," she said. "Let's go!"

Derish and the others followed as they rushed back outside to their yithhe.

_________________________________

Thanks for reading!

Come find me on twitter!

http://twitter.com/meredithskye

@meredithskye

^^^

Full book on Amazon:

http://amzn.com/B00FGLUI00

You are reading the story above: TeenFic.Net