Karni stood calmly in the clearing as the tornado descended. It spun even more furiously the closer it drew to land, the resulting dust and debris threatening to blind her. She had placed the edge of her garment over her face to protect her eyes and other orifices. The material was thin and transparent enough to see through. So it was through a pink veil that she viewed the tornado resolve into a man-shaped being.
The voice of the being was the voice of the tornado itself, angry and thundering.
Mortal woman . . . you dared summon me?
“Lord of Wind and Bird, I am Princess Karni of Hastinaga,” she said calmly. “And indeed it was I who summoned thee, using the mantra gifted to me by the rishi Pasha’ar.”
He was lean and long-limbed, like an elongated man. He moved with strange, fluid actions and gestures, the outlines of his body and face constantly blurred from incessant motion. Wherever he moved, the funnel of the tornado moved with him. He walked around her, examining her from head to foot as if she were an object on display in a royal viewing gallery. Then again, to the gods perhaps all mortal beings were little more than objects in a divine viewing gallery.
I sense that you have used this mantra before . . . twice already. To summon Sharra . . . and Shima?
At the second name, he expressed surprise, even some admiration. She glanced at the pathway, hoping Mayla and Shvate had not heard that first name. She was relieved to see no sign of them: they must have gone back to the hermitage then, as she’d suggested.
“I have,” she said simply, knowing that the less said, the better. Besides, she hadn’t called on him to banter.
He continued to move around her in whirling, blurring haze. She stood her ground calmly, outwardly showing nothing, but inwardly praying she had not pushed her luck. Thrice on a mantra? It was tempting fate, was it not?
You are bold, Karni of Hastinaga. I do not recall a time when the Mantra of Summoning was used thrice by the same person in such a short interval. And to summon Shima himself? He made a sound that could have been chuckling. It sounded like the tornado was chewing through logs of wood and splintering them to chips. It is unheard of among us higher gods.
She offered no response. His comment appeared to require none.
He regarded her for a moment, then abruptly appeared inches in front of her without any transition. Hence the phrase, “moves like the wind,” she thought to herself. He peered at her, and she had a sense of his gaze penetrating through her veil, through her garments, into her skin, her body, her brain, her essence. He was not ogling her; he was examining her very fiber and soul. It was an unsettling sensation, but she held still and stayed calm, or as calm as was possible for a mortal woman while being examined in such depth by a powerful god.
You are no ordinary woman, Karni of Hastinaga. The tornado buzzed with strange sounds, like voices filtered down through a storm high, high above. She saw a flash of blinding light above and a sound like a deep subterranean reverberation under her feet. Sharra and Shima both concur. I am impressed. Any mortal woman who can summon two of the most powerful gods of all creation is one with an extraordinary destiny.
“Thank you,” she said, not sure how else one responded to such a compliment.
Presumably you desire a boon from me. That is customarily the reason for a summoning.
“I do, my lord.”
Very well, then, I am intrigued by you. Name your boon. Do you desire indomitable victory in war? The power to destroy all enemies in combat? The strength to lift a hundred Coldstone Mountains at once? Or to crush them below your little toe? What great feat do you aim to accomplish, Karni of Hastinaga?
“The greatest feat of all, Lord of Wind. I wish to birth a child.”
Silence, except for the whirring, blurring, grinding of the funnel. Then a strange sharp sound, the wind god’s equivalent of laughter. A jest! You are a bold one. Yes, I suppose that is true. Birthing a child is a feat as miraculous as the workings of any god, yet all mortal women possess this remarkable power. That is why Goddess Jeel often says that females of all species are gods in their own right.
Karni began to realize that the Lord of Wind was true to his title. She decided to hasten this process along before she found herself standing here in this clearing engaged in banter for the next several thousand years. “My lord, by your grace, I would birth a child worthy of your own powers. As strong as a cyclone, as unstoppable as a tornado, as fierce as a gale, as versatile as wind, as omnipresent and loyal to family as air itself, and yet capable of being as gentle and soothing as a sea breeze when required.”
You don’t ask for much, do you, Karni of Hastinaga? Again the same grinding laughter. But I would want my child to be worthy of my name. Your boon shall be granted.
And without further ado, taking her completely by surprise, he took hold of her with both hands and drew her into his stormy embrace, into the whirling dervish of the funnel. Her vision blurred, and she felt her feet leave the ground as she was lifted up, up, high, the ground falling far beneath her as she flew up and the blood rushed from her head leaving her lightheaded and drunk with power.