Bones to the Wind: A Forging of Age, #1

By Tatiana Obey

THE HUNGER GAMES meets a CHILDREN OF BLOOD AND BONE. A New Adult coming-of-age fantasy adventure.

Rasia is determined to destroy her old man's record in the Forging, a trial each child must succeed to come of age. All Rasia needs to do is hunt down a gonda, hitch its tentacle ass to her windship, and haul it back home in record time. Easy. Or it would be if Rasia wasn't stuck on the same team as Nico—a know-it-all, spoiled, grubworm who never does anything Rasia tells her to do.

Nico doesn't care about Rasia's egotistical dreams of glory. This is her brother's last chance to pass the Forging or her father is going to banish him from the family. She needs to scour the desert to find whatever team the bones placed him on and help him kill a gonda before it kills him.

Too bad Nico and Rasia can't get along to steer a windship straight.

BONES TO THE WIND is a coming-of-age sword and sorcery fantasy adventure. Action-packed and humorous, the novel includes strong female characters, LGBTQIA+ representation, and mature themes. It is appropriate for a NA/Adult audience, 18+. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wanderlore Publishing LLC
• Release date: Mar 6, 2022
• ISBN: 9798985664904

Book preview

CHAPTER FIVE

From this day forward, you are your choices and decisions. You earn your name, you earn your face, and you would do well to heed my warning: Cowards don’t survive the Forging. Sometimes, not even the brave. The weak perish and only those who endure remain, the Mythkeeper, crowned by the sunrise, recited the words at the center of the Great Elder’s tail. The Forging ends at sunset of the second Hunter’s moon. Now, like a snake shedding old skin, abandon your shrouds and begin anew.

Rasia didn’t hesitate to rip the shroud off her face. Everyone else took their palm sweet time, pulling at their shrouds all shy and self-conscious, stealing glances at one another, as if anyone cared about their appearance. What did it matter what Rasia looked like? They would know her for her feats.

Thankfully, the Mythkeeper didn’t allow much time for everyone to stand around gawking at each other. She immediately called names and assigned teams. At least twenty windships were located around the Grankull, facing outward like sunrays toward the Desert. Rasia could save time if she were assigned a ship dusk of the head.

Rasia bounced on her toes and waited for her name. She waited. And waited. Until almost everyone had been called before her. The sun was almost over the horizon! Once first drum rolled, the Forging would begin.

Rasia was done waiting. She stomped over and cut in front of the child currently receiving his assignment.

This isn’t fair, Rasia complained. You’re saving me for last.

The Mythkeeper had the audacity to give her an amused smile. You want to know a secret? Your assignment number is determined by the distance your bones are thrown.

Rasia blinked at the implications of her reckless throw. "Are you kidding me? Come on."

Wait your turn, Rasia. It will come soon enough. The Mythkeeper addressed the next child and gave out their assigned windship number. Rasia circled the Mythkeeper, round and round, waiting for her chance to swoop in and claim her position.

When the second-to-last child stepped forward, Rasia clawed her face in frustration. The team numbers were uneven, which meant she still didn’t know her windship assignment even after the second-to-last ran off in the direction of their ship.

Unable to wait for her name to be called, Rasia pounced before the Mythkeeper. With a knowing smile, the Mythkeeper looked toward the sky. Looks like you don’t have much time.

Are you doing this ‘cause of all the grief I’ve given you over the years?

"While I am rather amused that fate has you standing here with me at the end, I did not plan this. But I am relieved it is you. Any of the others would not have made it on time, but you . . . windship number 7, headward, need to run."

Shit.

Language!

Rasia sprinted off to make the lap around the Grankull. Despite their contentious relationship, the Mythkeeper had always displayed faith in Rasia’s abilities. Let her go last, it didn’t matter. Rasia would still finish first.

The Elder roared with the sound of first drum, which vibrated through Rasia’s legs. She raced the sun and counted windships as she passed. Those on board cheered her on. When the seventh finally came into view, she pushed herself harder and faster and accelerated through the burn of her thighs.

Rasia slapped her hands against the hull of the seventh ship and crowed in victory. The sun broke free of the horizon. The beat of first drum faded. She looked up at the unfamiliar faces of her teammates who were leaning over the railing.

Just in case they didn’t recognize her awesomeness, she proclaimed, I’m Rasia, in case you didn’t know.

"It would be you."

Rasia didn’t recognize the face, but she knew that haughty voice from anywhere. With a groan, she dropped her forehead against the hull.

Nico.

Fate could go fuck itself.

It was high noon, and Rasia was still stuck at the starting line.

That doesn’t make any sense, Rasia argued for the granth time. "I know where a gonda is going to be to-night. We slay it, and we’re back in the Grankull by morning. Easy."

Killing a gonda isn’t easy, Nico said in that tone of voice that grated Rasia’s nerves. Rasia wasn’t some child batting wooden swords at the wind. I have an actual plan. We should team-up with one of the other teams. Most are headed toward the oasis. With more numbers, we all have a better chance of survival.

"But the rules are a maximum of five people per kill, which means we will have to kill two gonda. That will take twice as long!"

Why are you in such a rush? We have the entire Forging—one and a half moon cycles long to finish our hunt. It is better to be cautious and safe than reckless and stupid.

Your plan is stupid.

Your plan is going to get someone killed!

Rasia rolled her eyes so hard the world turned around. She had worked too hard for Nico to mess this up for her. Rasia glared at her other teammates and hoped she could convince them over to her side.

The blond round-faced reed with a ponytail didn’t look like much, but Rasia had learned to judge a person by their hands. Those calluses suggested she knew how to use that longbow strung across her shoulder.

The only male on the team carried a large dragonsteel fan-axe strapped to his back, the sort perfect for cutting gonda. Rasia recognized the work of the Grankull’s most esteemed family of blacksmiths. Only a member of the family was allowed to carry their seal on the hilt.

The last team member carried a collection of knives in every pocket of her clothes. Judging by her bandage-wrapped hands, she either had a lot of practice or she sucked at it. No one smart brought knives to a gonda hunt. At least the kid had enough sense to also bring a spear.

The team didn’t seem all that bad. Everything would be perfect if they could just get going.

Suri, Nico addressed the blond, followed by the other two brunets: Azan and Neema, what do you think? My plan is sound and reasonable. I will make sure we are safe and that we survive this.

Fuck. Soon, Nico would have them singing her name-songs. Rasia had to think of something. She might not know everyone’s First Names but Rasia knew what anyone with a spine wanted most of all: a name worth remembering.

No one has ever achieved anything worthwhile being safe, Rasia countered. Think about it. What if you could take down a gonda within a day? Can you imagine the weight of that feat? Sure, you can play it safe, but I’m offering you more. I’m offering you glory. I’m offering you a name a rare few possess.

Rabid Rasia has a point, the knife-kid said, unsure. Ugh. Rasia had already forgotten their names. Safe is easy. What if we can do it? We have an opportunity here to change our lives.

Wait, Nico interrupted, no doubt sensing the shifting sand dunes. Are we really going to listen to Rasia?

"Of course, you don’t understand, Rasia sneered. People listen to you, and they respect your opinion. You were born with a name, Ohan."

A name that still must be earned. I’m not Ohan yet.

Fine. Ohani. Same difference.

I starve, Rasia, the same as you.

Except when you starve, people care. They pity you, treat you with kindness, and coddle you because they hope to earn your favor.

"You know nothing! Nico shouted, and, for the first time in their argument, encroached on Rasia’s space. Rasia met her challenge grain for grain. And you’re such a hypocrite, Rasia. Your family has always had enough food to eat. Your tah is Han of the sentries. She has money and a good job. Have you ever known hunger?"

Rasia narrowed her eyes knowing she had argued herself into a corner, but she stubbornly dug in her heels. I hunt my own food, she said, slow and unflinching.

You don’t give it to the Grankull? Fan-axe asked. Isn’t that illegal? People are starving.

The way Nico looked at Rasia, as if Rasia was some goat turd stuck to the bottom of her sandal, wasn’t anything new, but now they all were looking at her that way.

Nico’s right. You’re no better than a scavenger, Fan-axe said.

Shut up. You’ve never even met a scavenger. I track, I hunt, and I kill with my own two hands. No one is stopping you from doing the same.

Some of us don’t have the luxury of owning our own windship, Knives said.

Tah and I hunted down the materials for that windship ourselves. You want one, make one.

Not all our tahs are hunters.

Not all our tahs are alive. Fuck you.

Rasia stomped away before she did something . . . she wouldn’t regret it, per se, but it sure wouldn’t help her get any closer to convincing these idiots to go along with her plan. With a sigh, she glided her hand along the glittering red hull of the Grankull-issued windship. Rasia considered stealing the thing and striking out on her own. They were close enough to the Grankull that she wasn’t worried about these idiots dying but taking their only form of transportation would certainly sentence them to failure, and Rasia didn’t know if she wanted to be the reason the Ohan failed her Forging. Despite what tah often claimed, Rasia did consider the consequences . . . sometimes.

Rasia studied the artistry of the ship while the others continued to argue. Sounded like they were putting it to a vote. Rasia didn’t have to guess whose side they’d choose. She wished she had stashed her windship somewhere closer, but to be fair, she hadn’t anticipated getting stuck at the rutting starting line. Maybe if she set out now, she might be able to make it.

You win, Rasia.

Rasia turned, startled. What?

Your plan won the vote, Nico bit out.

Rasia crossed her arms, unable to stop the grin stretching across her face as she turned to the others. I thought I was a no-good scavenger?

But you know what you’re doing, Knives retorted.

I’m just ready to go, Fan-axe said, following Knives up the steps of the windship. Longbow, who had watched the entire argument in silence, wasn’t far behind.

Rasia looked at Nico toothily, still grinning. Nico’s nostrils flared, and Rasia swore Nico was fighting back tears. In all the years their tahs had tried unsuccessfully to push them together as friends, Rasia had never seen Nico so upset over something so nonsensical. Rasia didn’t get why it was such a big deal anyway. Her plan sucked.

I hate you, Nico spat.

I know.

It felt good to win.

Rasia threw her a wink, kicked up from the hull, and flipped onto the deck. She skipped over to the steer and admired its smooth polish.

Wait, Rasia, Nico said, climbing up the stairs. We need to take an inventory of our supplies first.

Rasia spun her head to look over her shoulder. We’ve been stuck here for long enough. Someone, release the ropes so we can get moving.

You mean the lines? Knives asked.

They’re fucking ropes! Rasia threw her hands up in exasperation. Yes, release them from the black hook thingy.

The wench? Nico asked slowly, and all of a sudden, everyone was looking at Rasia with second thoughts. "How about I helm the tiller?"

Helm the tiller, Rasia mocked in a high-pitched voice. My ass I’m letting you steer.

Rasia spat on her palm, then rubbed her hand over the steer while all her teammates watched on in disgust and dismay. You might know all the fancy words, but have you actually steered a windship before? No? That’s what I thought. Now, someone go release the fucking ropes.

We are so going to die, Fan-axe muttered. He reached for the ropes and frowned when he couldn’t get the knot to loosen from the hook. Reed-bow moved over to help him, then Nico came over, then Knives, while Rasia waited impatiently for one of them to figure it out.

It goes like this. We learned this in class, remember?

We pull it inside out, Longbow, the rightest one out of the whole bunch, spoke too softly to be heard over the other discordant voices. Rasia couldn’t believe it took this many people.

Finally, the rope snapped loose. The sail unfurled. Rasia lifted the anchor.

The poor fools went sliding across the deck, tumbling over each other.

Knives lost a few knives, one flying backward and embedding itself right below Rasia’s elbow into the deck. Fan-axe hadn’t braced at all and tripped, stomach-punched by the railing before barely catching himself from falling overboard. Longbow looked ill. Nico screamed something at Rasia, but too bad Nico’s words were lost to the wind.

Rasia laughed and sailed on.

CHAPTER SIX

Kai’s team sailed off without him.

He felt a little windblown by how fast they tossed him overboard and hustled to get away. Clouds of dust billowed in their wake and showered him with disappointment. He’d failed his jih, again, and he had done nothing but exist.

Last year, Kai found one of the oases to hunker down in until the Forging was over. He didn’t know if he could find one again. Kai looked around: at the bone dragon hunched over the city behind him and the dunes of gold and copper cliffs ahead. He walked the only choice he had.

With every step forward, Kai wondered why he had even bothered. He didn’t want Nico risking her life to look for him. Nico often asked what happened to him last year, assuming Kai had endured some traumatic experience that left him even more wretched and hollow than before. But it had been nothing so dramatic. Instead, he had hoped.

Kai wouldn’t make that mistake again.

A hawk screeched while flying overhead. Kai watched the bird of prey soar, weightless, above it all. Then, he looked down and discovered a green speck breaking the overwhelming colors of gold, brown, and more brown of the Desert. Last year, Kai thought he had found the oasis through a lucky boon of circumstance. Once again, after only a few drums of walking, an oasis welcomed him to its shade.

Sprawling ferns and lush palms clung to the edges of resilient blue. Wild millet stalks and cottonwoods bowed to the wind, and the purple tamarisks bloomed despite their dry and cracked limbs. Ripening dates clustered high in the palm leaves and carried a note of sweetness in the air. Kai weaved through a flock of ibises and herons to reach the water. Far on the other side, a group of wild camels lounged in the shade under a hill of broken foliage.

His assigned windship last year had pointed in the opposite direction. This oasis was larger than the last one, and less isolated. From what he understood, this was the only oasis headward of the Elder.

Kai scooped water into his hands and dampened the shroud fastened around his face. Nico had washed his shroud last night, but all her efforts of scrubbing for the white had been irredeemably ruined by the dirt and dust after Kai’s team had thrown him overboard. His stupid eyes, gold and clear like palm oil, shone bright and undeniable in the pond’s reflection. He had an itching compulsion to disturb the water.

The birds squawked, fluttering off into the sky. The tall grass bent behind him. Kai hoped it wasn’t a pack of hyenas like last year. The grass parted, and several kids splashed into the shallow bank with a brazen noise that sent every animal scurrying.

Worse than hyenas.

There were five of them, no doubt a team with a windship nearby. Two of them served as pack camels, carrying multiples of everything—five canteens, several swords and spears, and large satchels strapped across their backs. Kai had been warned that some teams ambushed and stole supplies from others but had never experienced it himself.

Look who it is. A kid stepped forward and scrutinized Kai with eyes hunting for opportunity. He carried himself tall, sharp, and alert like a jackal. A talon dagger, by the size and curve of the sheath, sat comfortably on his hip.

The kid’s eyes lingered on Kai’s own weapon, a dragonsteel dagger tah gifted him to protect himself. Fear ached through Kai’s bones—a fear that had solidified after tah’s death. He knew how this was going to go, and he didn’t stand a chance. Kai pulled his sole weapon from his belted sash and tossed the sheathed dagger at the bully’s feet.

You’re not as stupid as they say, runt. The kid scooped up the dagger. Kai exhaled a trembling breath to watch the kid leave.

Wait, Kelin, that’s it? One of the others cried out in alarm.

He doesn’t got anything else.

I thought you were supposed to be this badass from the Tents. You went easier on him than the others!

Because he didn’t fucking argue and complain like the others. He gave us the dagger.

What if he’s still hiding something? Look! He’s still wearing his shroud. Come on, Loryn. We’ll take care of this ourselves.

You’re right, Tarick. This is kull business anyway.

Tarick charged forward and snatched Kai’s shroud, clutching at both fabric and hair, and pulled. Kai fell with the momentum, splashing into the muddy bank as Tarick and Loryn attempted to wrench it off. Gasping, Kai hugged a cluster of reeds and tried to straighten the damp linen, which trailed from his neck to snake through the muddy bank. Tarick yanked at the end, so hard the shroud tightened around Kai’s throat and pulled him like a dog through the mud.

The second tug, thankfully, snapped the shroud free. Kai grabbed at anything for purchase, found a floating leafstalk, and used it to pull himself out of the water. Kai collapsed over it, nose and throat burning.

Looks like all he was hiding was his ugly face! Tarick laughed. Kai bowed against their laughter as mud sludged down his forehead. The more pathetic and defeated he looked, the more likely they were to leave him alone and move on.

Loryn slammed through the water toward Kai. He braced himself. She kicked the stalk out from under him, and it popped from his grip toward deeper water.

This is a waste of my time, Kelin said. One of the pack camels shouted encouragement. The other looked ill but did nothing to help.

"Jih died last year in his Forging, but you survived? You survived. Not this year." Loryn pinned Kai down into the shallow water, which flooded his nose. Dirt burned his eyes. She anchored him to the soft sediment bottom and blocked all Kai’s attempts to flail for air.

Kai used to fight back when he was younger. Then tah died. After an incident almost left him for dead in the Ribs, he had been too afraid to leave his house. He didn’t use to be so scared, but now he’d been infected with this fear that dried out and deadened everything inside of him.

In that moment, he wanted it all to end.

He went slack and gave in.

Just Kai’s luck . . . that was what saved him. They jerked him back and twisted his neck crooked, all the while asking, Is he dead?

A cough racked Kai’s throat. He spat up and expelled water down his chin.

Guess not. Loryn tightened her fingers in Kai’s hair and forced him to face her, but all he saw was the sun, shining so brightly it washed out everything else. I bet you’ve been eating good, huh? Watching the rest of us starve while the Grankull pampers you.

Everyone seemed to think Kai was somehow hoarding all the food in the Grankull. Tah might have coddled him to some extent, but she never gave him extra rations. Still, Kai didn’t bother correcting the assumption because, in his experience, they would just find another excuse to attack him with.

Tarick cocked back his fist.

Let him go.

Kai lolled his head to the side and watched as a newcomer stepped through the ferns. Immediately, the newcomer’s sword drew the most attention. It was forged of the same white dragonsteel metal as Kai’s dagger, and it was huge, like a large cleaver that spanned Kai’s entire body. No doubt the sword’s intimidating size was partly the reason Loryn finally let go of Kai. Only one kid had a sword like that.

Zephyr.

Zephyr was one of Nico’s best friends. Kai had heard stories of him all Kai’s life, and yet, because Zephyr was a Tent kid forbidden from entering the Grankull, they had never met until now.

What an introduction.

Think you can take us all on at once, mutt? Tarick asked, inflating his chest.

Zephyr raised a brow and turned his gaze to Kelin. Kelin pushed Tarick back by the shoulder and said, It’s time to go.

But the mutt is alone. We should take his things too, Loryn said.

Zephyr hadn’t spared anyone his attention but Kelin, and he demanded in a low voice, His dagger too.

Kelin handed Kai’s dagger over to Zephyr.

What are you doing? You’re just going to listen to the mutt bastard?

To be fair, the bones stuck me with these parasites, Kelin said, ignoring his team members and solely talking to Zephyr. We’ve got no problems, right?

No problems, Zephyr said.

Kelin nodded, rubbed at the heron feather pierced through his ear, then turned and walked away. His teammates gawked. When Zephyr lifted his sword, they broke into a run after their de facto leader. Once their footsteps had faded, Zephyr crouched over Kai and offered his hand.

I’m Zephyr.

I know who you are. I didn’t ask you to save me.

You’d be dead if I hadn’t gotten here in time.

Not dying seems to be the only thing I’m good at. Kai ignored Zephyr’s offered hand. He crawled on all fours until he had dragged himself away from the damp and sopping ground. He used a palm to hike himself onto his feet, and then almost toppled over when a large frog hopped between his legs.

Zephyr caught him by the arm and staked the frog all in one motion. Clean up. Then we’ll talk.

Kai forced himself to take a breath, knowing he was angrier at himself than he was at Zephyr. Kai looked back at the oasis and mumbled, embarrassed: Can you not look?

The large kid studied him, and for a moment, Kai had the feeling that Zephyr would deny him the request to clean up in private, as if Kai couldn’t be trusted to even do that correctly.

"I won’t be too far. Shout if you need