Guardian of the Storm by Kaitlyn O'Connor Page B

leapt off of the man, even as the other man swung at it. Landing in the sand at her feet, Kirry whirled, all four legs braced, her ridge of fur standing on end as she growled threateningly at the men surrounding them.
    Someone shouted something. What, Tempest had no idea since she couldn’t speak their language, but as abruptly as they’d attacked, the Mordune withdrew.
    Gasping for breath, Tempest turned to look at Kiran. He was kneeling in the sand, bleeding from a dozen cuts on his arms, his thighs, and chest. She rushed toward him, falling to the sand and examining his injuries. Several looked dangerously deep and she turned to glare at the Mordune.
    To her surprise, they hadn’t gone far before they had turned their mounts around once more. Now, they merely sat perfectly still, staring, arguing amongst themselves.
    She stared at them, wondering what was happening. Not for a moment did she believe Kirry and Kiran had fought them off, although, save for one or two, all were wounded, just as Kiran was.
    Finally, one of the men, who seemed to be the leader, dismounted. He stared at her as if she was some sort of two headed beast. Finally, he fell to his knees, his arms outstretched.
    “Long will the children of Niah suffer and find no rest, no succor from strife, but, in time your pleas will be heard ….
    “And the day will come when mother Niah will assume the form of a mortal creature and appear unto her children—
    “She is Niah and she will be as one with all creatures great and small and you will know her, for she will command even the wild creatures.
    “Bless us, mother Niah! Make our world green once more!”
    He began to sob, bowing low, his arms stretched out before him. Almost as one, the others dismounted and fell to their knees, bowing as their leader had.
    Tempest stared at them blankly. “What did he say?” she whispered to Kiran. When she glanced at him, she saw that he, too, was looking at her strangely.
    “He says you are the One.”
    Tempest blinked. “One what?”
    “They believe you are the One who’s coming was foretold.” With an effort, he turned, bowing as the others had. Tempest stared down at him wide-eyed, feeling a blush rise from her toes all the way to the top of her head.
    Tempest looked at the other men uncomfortably, wondering what to do. On the one hand, she couldn’t help but think it was a very fortunate thing that the Mordune had jumped to such a conclusion.
    But then, there was one really serious draw back.
    She wasn’t the One .
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Eight
     
    High emotion was something almost impossible to sustain, no matter how dire the situation, but Tempest found it was also impossible to completely dismiss as she and Kiran were mounted with two of the Mordune and taken away. It didn’t help that she was worried about Kiran’s wounds; that no one spoke her language but he; and that she had no notion of where they were going or what would happen when they got there. She had enough presence of mind, however, to realize that they believed she was some sort of deity, and that fainting, screaming, cursing, or crying probably wouldn’t fit in too well with the image.
    She was scared enough to do a little of all three, and it took an effort to refrain.
    The sun was low upon the horizon when they came at last to what looked like a city of tents. From the moment Tempest realized that it was some sort of portable abode, her tension increased tenfold.
    It seemed likely that she was about to find out what would happen and she discovered, belatedly, that she’d rather not know. People poured from the tents as they approached, standing silently, watching, listening as the leader gestured wildly with his arms and pointed to her repeatedly. She sat stiffly erect, staring at a point over their heads since she was too unnerved to look directly at them.
    The leader had barely stopped speaking when a collective gasp issued from the crowd surrounding them and Tempest turned