Storm. Sarah Driver

a deep voice from the ground. ‘Are you Sky-Tribe?’

       The world fades in and out.

      ‘Show yourselves!’ booms Leo.

       Black emptiness swarms close.

      ‘We need help!’ The voice snips at my memory. My draggle stays close to the others, her muscles squirming with horror and wanting to get back to her cave. We drop lower in the sky, towards the ground.

       Chatter squiggles in my blood, setting it alight.

       FrightfrightfrightSPARKrawbloodbeatboomboomBOOM!

      A tall man garbed in salt-stained boiled leather steps out from behind a blood-splattered standing stone. His face is swamped in a wild tangle of icicled beard.

      Then I’m flung into a dream-world of beasts. Getawaygetawaygetawayspeartipshadowspressingbreathstopping helphelphelpwrongnessnomoonnosunclamouringbuzzingrunning runningnowheretorun. Nowheretohide.

       I’m flying so fast, so far. I’m diving into the shallows, spearing a fish on my claws. Heavy wingbeats slice the air, carrying me so fast the wind slips past me like water.

       Paws and hooves drum the snowy plains. Starlight writhes under us, locked in ancient graves. Bellies sore, bloated-not-with-cubs. Wind-spirits lick our fur. We move. We fight! We hunt. We roar! We face dark burrows, endless night. But we shudder secretly, blood roiling. Our bones click with ice. Life starves, withers. Storms boil.

      A shiver brushes my belly as my fur drags in the snow but then a brown-and-white blur streaks into my room and I’m waking up, straining against iron-heavy dreams that drag at the edges of my brain.

      My eyes crack open. I’m in my featherbed in my chamber at Hackles, sweating buckets. The room thumps into being around me, full of fuzzy outlines in the half-dark. In the hearth, a fire devours kindling in a spit-crackle frenzy.

      Thaw-Wielder soars across the chamber to the messy nest of twigs she’s built atop one of my bedposts. My sea-hawk’s been thieving kindling from all the hearths in the stronghold to build it, much to the vexation of the cooks. I hear the thud as she drops a fish onto the twigs, and the scratching as it thrashes. Fillpipesfillboots, she chatters, jostling her feathers. She squints down at me, stirring a love-pang in the pit of my belly.

      A bright droplet of blood falls from her wing onto my pillow. Reckon she must’ve got scraped flying through the arrow-slit again, cos at just the same moment the skin on my arm burnt and the muscles throbbed. Sometimes when she hurts herself, it’s as though I feel it with her.

      Thaw gurgles at me, low in her throat, and then the beast-world presses closer to me again, its rich stink clogging my mouth and nose. My skull thuds. I know the hunt Thaw flew. I can taste the fish she speared. I can feel the ice carried by the wind, wrapping around my claws.

      A wave of sickness rolls over me. I blink filmy eyes and suddenly I’m looking down into the nest and my own huge talons, one of my claws still hooked through the flesh of the dying fish. I gasp, shaking my head, grabbing fistfuls of bedding. What’s happening to me? For a beat, I’d swear I was peering through my hawk’s eyes. It feels like something inside me is tearing.

      There’s a movement to my left. I roll blearily towards it. Da sits in a chair by my bed, rubbing his jaw. The stubby hairs make a scratching sound.

      ‘Da,’ I croak stupidly. My skull pounds, and a foul, rusty taste clogs my mouth.

      I can only see one side of his face, lit by the pale glow of a moon-lamp he’s wedged onto a table next to him. He’s garbed in a midnight-blue tunic with pearls for buttons and a shaggy black goatskin cloak. His yellow hair is bundled into a messy knot on his head. Behind a tangle of reddish beard, his face is the pale grey of a skimming stone.

      ‘Bloodshed! ’ I blurt, lifting my head from the pillow. The room spins wildly. ‘At the Stone Circle!’

      ‘Peace, Mouse,’ says Da softly.

      I stare at him through great matted clumps of black hair. He’s full-vexed at me, so I make ready to charm my way off trouble’s hook. ‘You know the sea is calling me but still you come in here dressed like her, in blue and pearls and gold like the sun on the waves, eh?’

      He stares at me evenly. ‘A hailstorm broke the skulls of three draggles and two riders. Leo—’

      ‘She’s alright, ent she? Is she?’

      ‘Let me finish. Leo told us that the rest of the flock spooked, and badly. She managed to shoot a message into a ghostway and called some of the Wilderwitches to her aid. They used weather-magyk to help get the party home. But before they arrived, you passed out.’ He clears his throat and looks away.

      I know I’m in for the worst earful of my life, so I clutch handfuls of bedding and get ready to beg myself blue. ‘Staying still is too hard!’ I whine. ‘I loathe it here! I miss home! You can’t blame me!’

      ‘Are you eight moons old?’ he demands.

      I flush.

      ‘You of all people should know there are worse places for those without a home. Don’t be so guppy-witted.’ He reaches over and gives my leg a shake – not hard, but enough to put me in my place. ‘Can you picture how it feels to find your child gone, in the middle of a pack of angry storms, in the breath before a war? Because mark me, girl—’

      ‘It weren’t my—’

      ‘That is what is coming. A war ! A war that I would die before seeing you caught up in!’ he yells.

      Da’s only yelled at me a handful of times my whole life long, but when he does, it’s frightful cos normally he sails so easy, and suddenly he’s so mad-vexed his face is purple. The odd thing is, the frightfulness of it makes me laugh, which don’t help matters at all. Grandma used to give in much quicker when fury bit her.

      ‘Banish that smirk or so help me Mouse I will lock you in this chamber and you won’t even have the run of the stronghold. Then we’ll see how trapped you feel.’

      I force the corners of my lips down.

      ‘Better.’ He sits back, pulls the band from his hair and runs his fingers through it, blue eyes flashing. ‘Gift a man a young death, you will.’

      ‘I’m not trying to hurt you, Da. I just can’t stay here. I don’t know how.’

      ‘You’d better get learning, then, hadn’t you?’

      I puff up my cheeks and blow all the air out in a rush. ‘When are we gonna find the Land-Opal?’

      ‘Mouse.’ He folds his arms and leans closer to me. ‘What sort of a father would I be if I let you go running off into this perilous world again, when I’ve only just got you safe?’

      I raise my brows. He got me safe?

      He sees my look and narrows his eyes. ‘You don’t need to fret – I’m going to find the Huntress and rescue those of our Tribe who are still aboard. Then I will search for the Opal.’

      A howl of hope arrows from my throat. ‘And I’ll go with you!’

      He frowns. ‘No. No, you won’t.’

      ‘I’ll gift you a knowing for nothing,’ I hiss, tears sparking in my eyes. ‘You’re too tall, too full-grown and still too slow to be anything but a hindrance on a mission! You stick out like a sore thumb, old man. Any bad-blubber will see your hide coming from a league away.’

      Finally, a laugh splutters out of his dry mouth. He grabs