Tara Maya
Author Archives: Tara Maya
Tara Maya
- by Tara Maya
22. The Journey Omen
The Unfinished Song: Initiate
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| “Cold Ground” by Jasvena |
Irrigation ditches and low stone walls divvied up the fields. The sparkle of willawisps blinked on and off against the night sky. He decided he would walk as far as he could by dawn before he stopped to consider camping. He had no sleeping roll, no pack, no water gourd, not even a weapon.
When the moon rose, he started to scan the valley for the journey omen. He admitted he was vain enough to hope for something noble, a nighthawk or a cougar, but no living creature crossed his path. All he found was the shed skin of a snow snake, luminous white, perfectly intact and as long as his arm. Snow snakes were rare creatures, which lived high in the mountains, but once a year they shed their white skins for jet black scales and descended by the hundreds to mate in the hot desert valleys. A poor omen, he decided. Even after he found the skin, he kept an eye out for a cougar.
He had walked most of the night when he heard footsteps paralleling his. He tensed.
Mother stepped out from the rows of maize. She seemed to glow white in the moonlight. He felt absurdly glad to see her, surprised yet not surprised to find her out here, just where the tilled fields gave way to wild forest. He quickened his step to join her, but when he saw her face, full of pain, he stopped short of embracing her.
She had not forgiven him. Aching inside, he mulled her painful words to him during their fight. You can’t even do this one thing for me.
He remembered reaching toddler-chubby arms up to her, commanding, “Fly with me!” She would sweep him up, as her wings spread behind her, until they rode the wind. Father hated those flights; Mother and Father always fought about it afterward. To stop the yelling, Kavio had learned to stop asking her to fly.
When he’d been seven years old, she’d sewn him his first dance costume, the most wonderous thing he’d ever seen, of spider silk and parrot feathers, cowrie shells and rainbow stitches. He’d ripped it up in front of her. She’d never sewn him another one.
Little by little, over the years, he had pushed her further from him. It was the price he’d paid to please his father.
He wanted to say: I’m sorry. To say: I love you. He wanted to say: Fly with me.
Instead, his words tumbled out like stones on a slippery moutain trail, hard and impatient. “Just before the trial, you said you wanted me to look for the Vaedi, that humankind would perish if I didn’t. I can go now.”
Mother’s chalcedony bracelets chimed when she shrugged. “I don’t remember saying that.”
“This quest was supposedly so important you told me it was worth dishonoring myself to flee in secret rather than attend my trial. You don’t remember?”
“I thought they would execute you.” The scent of ripening corn…
TO BE CONTINUED
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- by Tara Maya
21. Zumo’s Offer
The Unfinished Song: Initiate
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| “Moon Dancer” by RoxRio |
Kavio
…took Kavio several blinks to realize who had saved him.
“Zumo,” he said hoarsely. His mouth tasted of blood and dust.
“I’ll escort you out of the tribehold, cousin,” Zumo said evenly. He snapped his fingers. Several other Tavaedis, all Zumo’s hangers- on, formed a defensive square around Kavio and Zumo.
The crowd jeered at Kavio as they passed, and a few of the braver ones hurled rocks or mud at him. He felt the shame of his nakedness strongly, not because of the attire itself, but because of the ashes smeared over his chest and thighs. He tried to hold his head up proudly rather than hunch over and shield himself from the taunting mob. He wondered which was worse, to need the protection of his enemy to walk the streets of the tribehold, or to wonder at its price.
“I thought you cast your stone on the black mat. Why are you suddenly so eager to keep me alive now when you wanted me dead this afternoon?”
“Ah, the stone. Mother suggested it would look more believable. But the fact is, I’ve got what I wanted,” Zumo said.
Kavio pressed his lips together.
“This doesn’t have to be forever, Kavio.”
“What?”
Zumo gestured to Kavio’s bloody, ash-smeared body.
“This. Your exile.”
“That’s not the judgment I heard.”
“There is a way that an exile may be allowed to return—if he is pardoned by a War Chief or a Vaedi. Your father can never pardon you, because his impartiality would be called into question. But I could.”
“You?”
“After your father steps down, a new War Chief will have to be appointed,” Zumo went on. “It would have been you before. Now it will be me.”
Kavio felt sick. “Congratulations.”
They had arrived at the large wooden gates at the entrance of the tribehold. There were too many warriors on guard at the gate for the mob to follow. Muttering, the crowd dispersed.
“If you would agree to serve me loyally, I would let you back into the Labyrinth as a Zavaedi again,” Zumo said. He sounded as though he thought he was truly doing Kavio a favor. “I mean it.”
Kavio laughed. He looked his cousin up and down in contempt. “Never forget, I know what you really are, Zumo.”
Hatred boiled in Zumo’s face. And fear. “No one would believe you.”
“Don’t worry.” Kavio’s lips twitched in a self-mocking smile. “I know that. That’s not the point. The point is, I know what you are. And I would rather live in exile the rest of my days than serve a man who lives a lie every day of his life.”
“Be careful, Kavio. Death might still find you.”
“It finds us all in the end, doesn’t it? Goodbye Zumo.”
Outside the Rainbow Labyrinth tribehold, no mobs harassed him and no enemies taunted him. Fields that smelled of sweet maize surrounded him. The tribehold stood on a mesa in a large box canyon cut by a river…
TO BE CONTINUED
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Art by RoxRio.
- by Tara Maya
20. Attack of the Mob
The Unfinished Song: Initiate
“Of course the mighty Imorvae War Chief spares his own son!” someone else shouted.
Father’s knuckles whitened on the ledge of the balcony, but his pride would not let him stoop to correct the accusation.
“Let Kavio begin his exile, here, now!” cried another voice. “We’ll see how long it lasts!”
Ugly laughter rippled through the crowd.
“Lower the ladder,” Father said to the Tavaedi warriors who still guarded Kavio.
Even the guards looked dubious. “The crowd will rip him apart as soon as he’s down the ladder.”
“Lower the ladder,” repeated Father.
Kavio might have expected Mother to object to this, but she had not accompanied Kavio and Father back to their house from the kiva. In her typical way, she had disappeared without a word of goodbye. I guess she hasn’t forgiven me for turning down her offer.
The warriors lowered the ladder to the street. The crowd began to cheer. Someone took up the chant again.
“Death to Kavio! Death to Kavio!”
He knew his cue when he heard it, Kavio thought sardonically. He stepped forward into the torchlight and the sight of the mob.
Another roar went up in the mob, and so many people tried to press close to the ladder that it almost fell into the street. One of the men pushed back the others, shouting, “Let him come down first, if he dares!”
“That’s my invitation, I believe,” he said to Father, grasping the ladder.
“If new evidence or new witnesses step forward to exonerate you,” Father said, “You could resume all your duties as a Zavaedi in the Labyrinth. Is there anything you want to tell me, Kavio, which you didn’t want to say at the trial?”
Kavio thought of Zumo, and what he might have said, did his cousin not share Auntie Ugly’s unreasoning hatred of everything Kavio was. The chances that Zumo would change his testimony seemed slight. To say the least.
“Goodbye, Father.”
He swung his legs around and descended the ladder into the waiting crowd.
They didn’t even let him climb down the ladder, but shook it and pushed it over. He flipped in the air as he fell and landed on his feet, but at once, enraged men and women assaulted him from all sides, some with their hands and feet, some with rocks and sticks. The sheer volume of kicks, sticks, punches, pinches and pummels drove him to the dust in a heap of bruised flesh.
And he thought he had been ready to die. He fought for every last breath, made them pay for every blow with two blows back of his own, but still they were winning, they were going to beat him to death right under his own balcony, as Father watched impassively from above.
A strong arm clasped and dragged Kavio back to his feet. He could breathe again.
“The judgment was exile!” his helper shouted at the crowd. “You will not commit murder tonight!”
Blood dribbled into his eyes, so it…
TO BE CONTINUED
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- by Tara Maya
Kinetic by S.K. Anthony
Being strong is one thing. Being an unlimited source of power is quite another.
Genetically altered by the Organization, Annie Fox takes down criminals CIA-style with her luminary strength. With nothing to mend but her broken heart, she is relentlessly pursued by her boss Derek Lake. Just when Annie is about to give him a chance, her ex-husband unexpectedly comes out of hiding.
A wanted man, Nick Logan is a cold-hearted murderer who is considered enemy number one, and orders are clear: kill on contact. He is more powerful than ever and threatens the lives of those she holds most dear. His plan? Get his hands on Annie and use her Kinetic energy to destroy them all. When Annie finds herself with an opportunity to end him, she pauses, horrified by the scars covering the face she once loved. A split second that will cost her everything …
** Kinetic is a stand-alone novel. All books in series are part of the same world with the characters intertwined. **
Download Kinetic on Amazon, Smashwords, Barnes and Noble, Kobo and iTunes. Kinetic will be only 99 cents on Amazon during the first week of release (September 20-28).
Excerpt
I stooped down and back-elbowed him across his jaw. His head fell sideways, but not for long, he turned to watch me but said nothing. I got up and slammed a good kick to his side. He winced but remained silent.
“What are you up to?” I demanded.
“Killing.”
“Why?”
He smiled. “It’s fun.”
“I’m about to call Derek, but I’d like to know what you’re after first.”
“Let me go,” he said.
“Oh… you’re hilarious.”
“You’ll regret keeping me here, Annie. I can’t afford to be captured right now.”
“Oh, RIGHT, what was I thinking? I should have called ahead to schedule an appointment for your capture. I just didn’t have your number!” I watched him in disbelief.
“I don’t have email or Twitter either. You know why?” His lip twitched. “I can’t have followers.”
I heard a chuckle from behind.
“Really, Beth? You’re going to encourage him?”
“What? No, it was just… I thought it was… funny,” she finished saying in a low voice.
I turned back to Nick and was about to grab his neck when I realized being that close to him would not be a good idea. If I allowed myself to get that close to him, he could hypnotize me to let him go, so instead, I kicked him.
“Now you’re just doing this for spite,” he said.
“Yes.” I kicked him again. “You started it at Worldsafe.”
“What are you, ten? I pinch you, you pinch me? Actually, I wouldn’t mind pinching you…” I was about to slam him again. “No, stop. Stop! Your kicks are more painful than mine. Stop it.”
“Any more requests? It seems you think you’re in charge here,” I said.
“Just, wait, all right? Don’t call Derek. Don’t let anyone know I’m here,” Nick begged.
“Scared?” I smirked.
- by Tara Maya
19. Nothing to Lose
The Unfinished Song: Initiate
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| “Dindi” by Tara Maya |
Dindi
…but also makes you want to rage and weep because it reminds you the enemy has captured your cousins, your friends.
A strange thing happens. You’re terrified, disoriented, humiliated, helpless, panting with exhaustion, focused on trying to place one foot at a time while avoiding the switch. You’re also angry. As your hearing and sense of balance returns, your anger creeps up on you, growing fiercer, until it strangles your fear.
Despite the enemy’s precautions, your woodcraft whispers certain secrets. The brush of the air on your skin, the texture and tilt of the ground, these tell you you’re heading west, toward the ocean.
You know you will be sold as a sacrificial slave, a mariah, as soon as they leave the boarders of your clan and tribe, too far away for your kin to find or avenge you. Obedience doesn’t bake well in your oven; you’re certain you wouldn’t last long as a slave. They warn you they will kill you if you don’t do what they want, that your life is worth less to them than a fistful of seed. They call you wormbait, carion.
Their aim is to make you think you are going to die, and they succeed.
So you have nothing left to lose.
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| “Kavio” by Tara Maya |
Chapter Two
Rover
Kavio
Kavio stood on the balcony of his father’s house, back in the shadows, and the mob hadn’t seen him yet. That couldn’t last.
The mob filled the dusty streets between the blocks of adobe houses. Torches waved like luminous war banners. The throng had been gathering every evening for days before the trial, shouting for blood. Wild fae whirled around them, vicious little Red and Orange imps, unseen by most of the people in the crowd.
“Death to Kavio! Death to Kavio!” the people shouted.
Kavio inhaled the dry summer night. The decree of the Society of Societies might have been commuted to exile, but he still had to get out of the tribehold alive. Now that he faced a mob ready to rend him limb from limb, he found he preferred life in exile to death after all.
Father, still in his face paint and dance regalia, went to the edge of the balcony. Like the kiva, the adobe house had been painted white and the mud walls of the balcony rose organically out of the lower story of the house. For defensive purposes, none of the houses in the tribehold had doors on the first story. Ladders allowed access between the balcony and the street.
Father held up his arms to silence the crowd. It took some time to still their chanting.
“Your cries have been heard. Justice is served!” he shouted. “Kavio has been judged guilty. He will be exiled!”
This appeased few in the mob.
“In the Bone Whistler’s day he would have been stoned!” some- one shouted.
Thunderous rage contorted Father’s face, but he never lost his self-control. “The Bone Whistler is dead and so are his ways. The judgment is exile.”
TO BE CONTINUED
Download the complete book for FREE or buy it on Amazon as an ebook
- by Tara Maya
The Making of a Mage King: Prince in Hiding by Anna L. Walls
What would happen to you if you lost your parents at 17?
And then… what if they weren’t your parents at all?
When Sean loses his parents within a year of each other he can’t see past the tragedy… until he finds out his father isn’t really his father… and Sean isn’t who he thinks he is. Follow Sean through his journey to a magical world where he is royalty and his powers are only beginning to bloom… and family is a relative concept – evil uncles and all.
Prince in Hiding by Anna Walls is the first in The Making of a Mage King series that follows young Sean from boy to Mage King! You can download it on Amazon. Book 2 in the series, White Star, is also on Amazon.
Excerpt
Sixteen-year-old Sean stood in the queue, waiting his turn to compete with the saber. He looked up at the bleachers. He had no problem locating his dad; his parents sat in the same place every time. His dad was talking to their flat mate, Gordon; his mom couldn’t make it this time – she had to work. Every year since Sean’s first tournament, his parents gave him a choice. Since the tournament and his birthday were generally only a few days apart, Sean got to pick which event his parents would attend; it was impossible for them to get both days off from work. Sean thought of a compromise. He really wanted them to watch him compete, so as a birthday present of sorts, they could take him out for a special dinner afterwards.
When Sean, Gordon and his father returned home that evening, they were greeted by a squad car waiting out in front of their apartment building.
“Sorry sir,” said the officer as he met them at their taxi. Sean’s father was a sergeant of the mounted police. The officer looked uncomfortable about talking in front of Sean and Gordon.
“Go ahead officer. We’re family,” said Elias.
“Sorry sir,” said the man. He hastily pulled his hat off his head and gripped it in his fists. “Sir, you need to come down to the station. It’s your wife, sir. She’s…she’s dead. You need…”
Sean didn’t hear anything else. The monotone of his father’s voice and the officer’s voice no longer translated into words. He found the hood of the police car and leaned on it, his sword case hitting the pavement with an audible thump.
Gordon wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Come on, I’ll get you inside.”
Find more from Anna on her website, blog, Facebook, Goodreads and Twitter.