Chapter 13
Cleo
The lightning strike made us both jump.
Rezor’s body moved over mine, one arm braced above my head, the other wrapped around my waist. For a moment, all I could hear was the ringing in my ears and the thunder of my own heartbeat.
We moved outside to see purple clouds shifting overhead and people in the streets.
Their voices were raised in panic. Children cried.
This was not something that happened in the valley.
The valley was safe. The valley was protected.
So they all thought. Fat droplets began to fall.
It looked like rain, but it sizzled where it hit the ground and it smelled like sulfur.
“That’s not normal rain,” I said, pulling back from Rezor’s protective hold.
“The storms have never breached the valley before,” he said tightly. “Not like this.”
Another flash of lightning lit up the village, so bright I had to shield my eyes. The thunder followed immediately, rattling the foundations. Wind howled, a sound like the planet itself was screaming.
“We need to get to the council chambers.” Rezor grabbed my hand. “Now.”
Guards were directing families to their homes, away from windows. I saw Baleck and Mierva emerge, their eyes wide with shock.
“Stay inside,” Rezor ordered them. “Away from the outer walls.”
“What’s happening?” Mierva called after us.
“The storms have increased,” I shouted back. “Get somewhere safe.”
We burst through the doors into the council chambers, where half the members were present.
Their voices were raised in argument. Guards clustered near the windows, watching the storm with expressions ranging from terror to grim determination.
And in the corner, Zelana and two other seers sat in a circle, eyes closed, hands clasped, completely still despite the pandemonium around them.
“Lord Rezor!” One of the council members, an older male named Torak, rushed forward. “The forest sectors are flooding. We’re getting reports of structural damage across the eastern quarter.”
“Casualties?” Rezor’s voice cut through the noise like a blade.
“Minor injuries so far, but if this continues—”
Another lightning strike, close enough that the building shook. Someone screamed. Through the windows, I could see a tree in the plaza split down the middle, half of it crashing to the ground in a shower of sparks.
“We need to evacuate to the underground chambers,” one of the guards said, his eyes crimson with urgency. “Get everyone below ground where the storms can’t reach.”
“The underground chambers can’t hold everyone,” a council member argued. “And we’d be trapped down there. If the valley floods—”
“If we stay up here, we’ll be killed!”
“The mountain tunnels,” someone else suggested. “We could move people to the northern pass—”
“And abandon the valley? Everything we’ve built?”
The arguments escalated, voices overlapping, panic spreading through the room like wildfire. I watched it all, my engineer’s mind trying to make sense of what was happening.
The valley had been protected for generations. The natural formation created a microclimate that kept the worst of the storms at bay. So why was it failing now? What had changed?
The timing was too coincidental. The storms had been encroaching for cycles, yes, but this sudden escalation, this complete breach of the valley’s defenses, right after we’d learned about emergency transmissions from outside…
“Cleo.” Rezor’s hand found mine in the chaos. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking this doesn’t make sense.” I had to shout to be heard over the wind howling through cracks in the windows. “The valley’s protection has held for how long?”
“Hundreds of generations.”
“And suddenly it fails completely? In the span of moments?” I shook my head. “That’s not a natural degradation. That’s a catastrophic system collapse.”
“System?” Torak looked at me with confusion. “The valley’s protection is geographical, not technological.”
“Is it?” I thought about the fallen tower that was overgrown by the forest. “What if the geography is only part of it? What if there’s technology we don’t know about that’s being manipulated to supercharge towers outside this valley?”
Rezor’s eyes widened with understanding. “The weather tower that collapsed generations ago is only one.”
I grabbed his arm, thinking about the rest of the crew out there, somewhere.
It was highly possible that some of them found themselves taking shelter in one of those towers.
And tried to use the controls. Controls that they had no idea how to use, or worse, where rigged to go nuclear when touched by unauthorized hands.
I thought about Zara, who would never, ever, ever not try to get into one of those systems. “I have a bad feeling that—”
But before I could get the rest of my words out, the storm intensified. Rain hammered against the windows with enough force that cracks formed in the transparent surface. The wind screamed like something alive and furious. Lightning struck so frequently that the room strobed with white light.
This was it. The valley was going to be destroyed, and we were going to die here.
Rezor moved to the center of the room, his voice cutting through the chaos with the authority of command. “Quiet. Everyone, quiet.”
Slowly, the arguments died down. All eyes turned to him.
“We need to make a decision,” he said. “Moving underground or to the tunnels would protect us from the immediate danger, but we run the risk of flooding that…”
Rezor trailed off as silence took over. The storm stopped.
Not gradually. Not a slow fade of wind and rain. One moment, the building was shaking with the force of nature trying to tear us apart. The next, silence. Complete, absolute silence.
Everyone froze.
“Is it over?” someone whispered.
Rezor moved to the window, and I followed. Through the cracked glass, I could see the plaza. The ground was soaked, debris scattered everywhere. But the rain had stopped. The wind had died.
And above us, the clouds were moving.
“Look,” I breathed, pressing closer to the window. “The clouds. They’re retreating.”
It was the most surreal thing I’d ever seen. The dark, churning storm clouds that had been pressing down on the valley, invading our sanctuary, were pulling back. Not just to the mountain peaks, but past them. Rolling away like a tide retreating from shore.
Rezor grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the door. “Come on.”
We burst out into the plaza, and I immediately looked up.
The clouds continued their impossible retreat, moving faster now, streaming away from the valley in every direction. And where they pulled back, I saw something I hadn’t seen since before we’d crashed here.
Blue sky.
Clear, brilliant blue sky.
And through it, shining down on the planet for the first time in who knew how long, was the sun.
Not the dim, filtered light we’d grown accustomed to.
Not the gray haze that passed for daylight most of the day.
Pure, golden afternoon sunlight that painted everything in colors so vivid they almost hurt to look at.
I stood there, shaking, staring up at the impossible sky, and felt something crack in my chest.
“What the hell just happened?” I whispered.
Around us, people were emerging from buildings. Cautious at first, then with growing confidence as they realized the storm was truly gone. I heard gasps of wonder, saw people pointing at the sky with expressions of awe.
Someone started to laugh. Then someone else. Soon the plaza was filling with people, all of them staring up at the clear sky with something like religious fervor.
“The storms,” an elderly female said, her voice trembling. “They’re gone. The storms are gone.”
“How?” I turned to Rezor. “How is this possible? Storms don’t just…leave. Not like that.”
“I don’t know.” He looked as stunned as I felt. “But whatever caused it—”
“Cleo!”
I turned to see Zelana running toward us. Actually running, her normally dignified composure completely abandoned. Before I could react, she grabbed my face and kissed both my cheeks.
“You did it,” she said, her eyes bright with tears. “The prophecy. Your people brought renewal.”
“I didn’t—” I started, but she’d already turned away, her arms raised to the growing crowd.
“Listen!” Her voice rang out across the plaza. “The signs are clear. The sky people have brought renewal to our world. The storms that have plagued us for generations, that have imprisoned us in this valley, they are gone because of the sky people. They came to save us.”
A cheer went up from the crowd. Not everyone, but enough that the sound echoed off the surrounding mountains.
“No, wait,” I said, trying to pull away from Rezor’s grip. “That’s not—we didn’t do anything. This is—”
But Zelana was on a roll. “For cycles, we have lived in fear. Fear of the storms, fear of the world beyond our walls. But the prophecy told us that three would fall from the sky, and through them, balance would be restored.”
The crowd was growing now, people streaming into the plaza from all directions. I saw Baleck and Mierva pushing through, their expressions stunned.
“And on this cycle,” Zelana continued, her voice carrying with practiced ease, “we celebrate. We celebrate the sky people who have saved us. We celebrate the renewal of our world.” She turned, her gaze finding me in the crowd.
“And we celebrate Cleo, who has proven herself worthy to stand beside our lord. Who has earned her place as the mate of our leader. The sky people belong here. As long as they remain in the valley, on this planet, we are safe. We can heal.”
The cheer that went up this time was deafening. It chilled my skin and sent a shot of ice through my veins.
Rezor’s hand tightened on mine, as he must have sensed my sudden unease. Around us, people were celebrating, dancing, embracing each other with joy I’d never seen from the normally reserved D’tran.
But I couldn’t join them, because none of this made sense.