Blue Eyes (eBook)

Donna T. Upchurch (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2021 | 1. Auflage
366 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
978-1-6678-1253-3 (ISBN)

Infos

'Blue Eyes' is a breathtaking saga, interwoven with rich original mythology, tribal beliefs, a fantasy race of plant-based creatures, unimaginable animals, and a tapestry of supporting stories and themes. This fantastical story makes readers consider love versus honor, power versus right, and two lovers determined to believe that, in the end, love cannot be denied. This novel may appeal to readers who can't get enough of beautiful world-building and magical elements.

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"e;Blue Eyes"e; is a breathtaking saga, interwoven with rich original mythology, tribal beliefs, a fantasy race of plant-based creatures, unimaginable animals, and a tapestry of supporting stories and themes. This fantastical story makes readers consider love versus honor, power versus right, and two lovers determined to believe that, in the end, love cannot be denied. This novel may appeal to readers who can't get enough of beautiful world-building and magical elements. Forbidden love can be dangerous enough-let alone when one lover is accused of being a demon. In this high fantasy story, Yawta, the daughter of a village leader, wishes to escape her village to be free to live openly with her lover Bamru. Unfortunately, as a female, she has no rights, and Bamru is believed to be a demon because of the color of his eyes. To complicate Yawta's escape plans, Bamru is torn between his love for Yawta and his loyalty to her father, the tribal leader-even as his life is constantly threatened due to his mysterious, secret origins. This two-part story reaches a climax when Yawta's death transports her to a new death-world, and Bamru enters that dangerous death-world to find her.

Textauszug

Chapter 2: The Centipede

Yawta knew it was taboo to go looking for Bamru.

She was royalty: he was cursed.

She was expected to become a royal wife.

He was suspected of being a demon.

The village sought to control her life.

The village sought to end his.

And if Yawta’s father Akoni discovered she’d left home without his permission—let alone to see the “demon”—his punishments could be severe. Yawta didn’t care. Restless nights of yearning to be with Bamru were too painful for her to bear. No. She felt justified for what she was about to do. She waited until evening, then ran toward the jungle to meet him.

Animal chatter filled the jungle when she entered. She could hear loud cracklings from the wingless, footless, and flightless birds that sat on tree limbs during daylight and vanished at nightfall. At daybreak, they would reappear, sitting another day in the same spot as the day before; it was as if they’d never left.

The busy eyes of the wingless birds followed her this evening as she passed beneath them. She would use these birds as landmarks. Now, as Solo the sun god prepared for sleep, Yawta walked deeper into the jungle, floral vines roping their way from one tree to another; tiny animals soaring upon leaves, some of them making Planto-like sounds and wind spirits humming their end-of-day lullabies.

Blurrrr… blurrrr. The imitation bird-mating call pierced the thick heat of the jungle, drawing her toward it. She smiled and paused to make sure her scarlet feathered breast wrap and banana leaf skirt were in place. She adjusted the skirt to accentuate her small waistline and slim hips. She sniffed her arms, searching for the rosemary aroma she rubbed over her skin. Perfect, she thought. She was ready.

She shielded her eyes from the sleepy Solo rays filtering through tall branches and leaves, creating mosaic patterns upon sparkling greenery. She flicked away blood-sucking insects that hopped on and off her face, legs, and arms. Nothing seemed to matter to her, other than being with the man she loved before the jungle turned pitch black.

Thinking about the darkness, she slowed her pace. She remembered that more than once she’d found herself alone out here, surrounded by The Color, a night-time mist of confusion that was believed by villagers to be a form of Lunafu, the troublesome, often cruel moon god. When the moon was shining, Lunafu transformed himself into large masses of darkness (The Color) and trolled through the jungle looking for any lost thing (animal or Planto) to take back to his home on the moon.

She stopped then, remembering a night not long ago when The Color had surrounded her, robbing her of sight, long horny nails touching her arms. She shook herself: she’d gotten away, hadn’t she?

With a deep breath, she started walking again, stretching her neck to see how much farther she had to go.

Suddenly, she heard something like the rattling of leaves. She froze with one foot barely touching the ground. Her eyes widened. Her throat tightened. Her hearing sharpened. She turned and peered over her left shoulder.

Is someone there?

Had she been inattentive this time, unaware of who might have seen her sneaking away? Standing as still as a chameleon, she surveyed her immediate surroundings. Everything was still, except for the walking moss mauling something smaller than itself and then skirting over her toes.

She exhaled. The walking moss. Nothing but my vivid imagination making me fearful again. The scampering plant never hurt anyone.

Blurrrr … blurrrr. Now she smiled. The call was clearer and closer this time. She parted the sap-oozing bush in front of her and kept walking, knowing the smoky tree of many fruits called Kwinga was nearby. Villagers believed the spirit of Kwinga lived inside the tree. The ancestors said Kwinga was the keeper of secrets and would only reveal a secret to save a life, although no one in the village she knew ever heard Kwinga speak. Yawta was fascinated by the tree. Some time ago, she had etched her name and the name of the man she loved upon the tree so that the smoky tree would protect her secret from those who’d wish to expose it.

She could barely wait. Her eyes brightened; her stomach tumbled; her feet couldn’t move fast enough. Finally, she was standing by Kwinga’s tree. She reached for him; their hands touched. He pulled her close to him.

They fell into each other’s arms, not saying a word, for there was no time for that. She kissed his lips, his eyes, his cheeks, his nose, as if she had no idea where to start, until he caught her up and responded with long, passionate kisses, as if he couldn’t get enough of her.

“I love you, Yawta,” he said, his heart pounding as fast as hers.

“I love you too.” Her lips gently brushed across his neck, her hand slipping into his golden-brown hair.

She tried not to look at his eyes, which attracted her in a way she found difficult to resist. His were mesmerizing, ocean-blue eyes to which she’d surrendered time after time, prompting her to drift away to places where she’d seen things she never knew existed, places where her mind spun with pleasure. During those moments, sinking into infinite depths, she heard nothing but his heartbeat.

Standing face to face, she laid her cheek against his bare chest as if it were a raft on an undulating ocean; she could feel his muscles moving up and down like waves, and his breath blowing onto her neck like a warm breeze soothing away the gathered heat of the passing day. Wrapped in his strong arms, she felt understood and safe. They kissed once more.

“Bamru, we must talk,” Yawta said, breaking away from his embrace. Her thoughts raced. This evening she was determined to speak her mind.

“Later,” he said, pressing his chin across her tightly braided, beaded hair. “I haven’t held you in my arms for many star-shifts.”

“No, now.”

He stroked her arms and nodded. “Let’s sit down.” He dragged a log closer and swiped away the flaky bark, disturbing a mass of bubble-eyed ants that emerged from the damp wood. He rolled the log to a cleaner side, for it was against Mosi law to harm nonaggressive creatures.

He wiped his hand on his buffalo hide breechcloth. Unlike most green men who ornamented themselves with henna and showy bracelets to appear manly to females, he was plain and simple.

For moments, there was silence. Yawta blinked her eyes, trying to work through a tumult of different emotions. She couldn’t find the right words to start the conversation. While gathering her thoughts, she knew what Bamru was thinking: They’d had this conversation many times before.

The longer she sat thinking, the more frustrated she became. She curled her hand into a fist, thinking how calm and sensible he could be at times.

“Ahh! Do you want me or not, Bamru!”

“Yawta. You know I do.”

“If I wait for you to understand me,” she said, old anger rising again, “I’m afraid it will be too—”

“I know. And I do understand.” Bamru placed his calming hand over hers. He tightened his grip. “But we can’t just run, Yawta.”

She closed her eyes, and big tears tumbled down her face. “Why can’t we? We need to—” She sank against his chest.

“Shhh. I know, I know.” He kissed her forehead. “But where should we go? Should we live with the monkeys in trees or with the lions in their dens?”

“No,” she sniffed, “but there must be a place for us.”

“There is, and it’s here.” He kissed her fingertips. “I could never steal you away from your father. He’s a good man, and he loves you.”

“But what about us?” she asked.

Bamru looked down upon a many-legged centipede fishtailing through the soft mud. The confused bug had just fallen from a tree, far away from its mate; it was sending a distress flare of red particles into the air. Bamru smiled and lifted the fallen bug with a twig; he placed it on the leaf near its mate. He and Yawta watched as the two bugs reunited. He whispered into her ear, “Sometimes, young lovers need a little outside help to stay together.” He pulled her closer to him and said, “You are the most important Planto in my life. I couldn’t imagine living life without you, and this is why I must convince Akoni that I’m the right man for you.”

Yawta exhaled, exhausted with the thought. “And how do you plan to do that? I’ve tried. The entire village is against us.”

“I don’t know, but I believe that Rabongo will help us.”

“Rabongo!” Yawta yelled. “You always wait for Rabongo to change everything! What good is such a silent god?” Watching him closely, she lowered her voice and added, “Did you see us together in one of your prophetic dreams?”

“No.”

“Well, then.” She shook her head. “We must leave this backward village. I’d give my—”

“Me too.” He touched her chin and turned her head toward his face. “Something will change our situation. Things will go our way. Remember the fallen centipede. I bet he never thought I’d come along and transport him back to his mate.” He caressed her arm. “There are forces out there wanting us to be together. We must be patient.” He hugged her again. “True love cannot be denied. Isn’t that what you’ve always told me?”

Yawta smiled, realizing that time...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 28.11.2021
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Fantasy / Science Fiction ► Fantasy
• ISBN-10: 1-6678-1253-X / 166781253X
• ISBN-13: 978-1-6678-1253-3 / 9781667812533