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111 pages

English

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An action-packed fantasy book follows sixty-year-old Krissa as she unlocks the power within herself to fight an empire that may destroy her and her home.
Nightmares, sleepwalking, and intense feelings of guilt surface, leaving Krissa struggling with the power of her subconscious mind. She has maintained equilibrium for 30 cycles, but the power of the subconscious mind is awakening events of her past. The emperor’s restoration of relations with the planet Caderyn are opening her eyes to her true purpose. Nevertheless, internal forces torment her as she discovers an ability to alter a person's perception by singing. How is she related to the Onye warriors? Where does she fit in their struggle, and will the planet Caderyn withstand a massive imperial invasion?
Deehabta’s Song is one of those epic action fantasy books the author considers one of those books you might like to read if you liked Dune. It follows a warrior legend and combines new science fiction books and action fantasy books set in space in one epic novel. The power of the subconscious mind enlivens this tale of a heroin who journeys home to healing and restoration while accepting her past and reconnecting with her son.

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Fiction

Fantasy

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Publié par	iUniverse
Date de parution	22 novembre 2020
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781663211620
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	1 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0200€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Deehabta’s SONG

STEPHEN ALDER

DEEHABTA’S SONG

Copyright © 2020 Stephen Alder.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

iUniverse
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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-6632-1164-4 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-6632-1163-7 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-6632-1162-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2020920730

iUniverse rev. date: 09/19/2022

“Oh, darling, won’t you stay with me
and rest your weary soul?”
“I can’t,” she says. “It still will be
so long before I reach my goal.”
“But your travels take you far away.
Why can’t you stay this once?”
“These ones are why I cannot stay
And why I fight on many fronts.
“I fight for my beloved ones.
For them I sing my song.
For all my daughters, all my sons,
For all of them, I must stay strong.”
I asked her, “Won’t you sing for me?”
Then, like a crystal bell,
Her voice rang out so clear and free;
The song she sang had this to tell:
“How darkness curls around the tongue!
As currents warp the sea,
To test the sight of cages strong,
Where hearts are trapped that long to see.
“But light above can’t reach those depths
Unless it’s there you tread,
With words of light within each breath
And let them rest on every head.
“We warriors of a different breed
Make this our daily quest,
To reach into the depths of need
That troubles every human breast.
“We fight with weapons forged in words,
Our arrows made of song,
To form the world of which we’ve yearned,
A place where all at once belong.”
— Traditional song of the Onye
CONTENTS
1 The Tram Ride
2 The Martial Arts Instructor
3 The Museum
4 The Street Fighter
5 The Way to Caderyn
6 The Spaceship
7 The Onye
8 The Heart of Caderyn
9 The Beginning
1
The Tram Ride
I will reverse the disastrous policies of my predecessor. I promise to end this destructive war and bring our children home. I promise to build a lasting peace built upon mutual respect, cooperation, and the humane treatment of prisoners of war.
—Andon-Roon, Imperial Investiture Ceremony, 3991 AFS
ROON, 4025 AFS
It is 4,025 cycles after the first settlement, or 4025 AFS, and thirty cycles after the Caderyn War. Krissa, a woman in her early sixties, opens the shutters covering the window in her studio, and the light floods in. Her hair, which is cut short, is graying, and her skin is sagging in places, but she is still physically fit. She walks over and grabs a staff that is propped up against a large bookshelf overflowing with books.
Books are stacked everywhere in this room that doubles as a storage area, which has all sorts of objects pressed up against the walls to allow for the exercise area in the middle. There are planters on the floor, planters on stands, and various boxes and cases. All this clutter is neatly arranged, however, and every plant is healthy and kept trimmed.
She takes time to stretch and then starts a martial arts routine by moving her body slowly from one pose to another, sometimes thrusting, sometimes swinging, sometimes blocking with her staff. Primarily using both hands, she makes precise movements that involve not only skill but strength as well. Her motions are very fluid, like a dancer’s, but also forceful, like a soldier’s in hand-to-hand combat.
She gradually moves from relaxed motions to fierce, intense movements. Now her routine is punctuated by grunts and yells as she repeats her entire routine at a faster pace. Finally, she winds down and comes to a stop. After setting her staff up against the bookshelf, she grabs a cloth and pats her face with it as she passes through her bedroom to the bathroom.
In her bathroom, she does her daily routine of taking her morning pills, followed by a shower, getting dressed, and then standing in front of the mirror engaging in the continual quest to make her hair stay in place. This is generally accompanied by exasperated sighs. As usual, she is not satisfied with the results, but she has to finish getting ready. So, she walks into her kitchen to prepare some breakfast.
The first thing she does is open the refrigerator and take out a container labeled “Bleater Premium Milk.” After pouring some milk into a small bowl until it is half-full, she places the bowl on the counter near the window behind the sink. This window is always open to allow her little houseguest to enter, whom she could hear meowing the moment she opened the refrigerator. As soon as the bowl is placed on the counter, an animal, popularly known as a “skritcher,” jumps through the window and lands right next to it. This skritcher is a bit roughed up. One leg is out of joint, and there is a big scar across one eye, which is now an empty socket with the skin sewed up. “Hello, Punk,” Krissa says with a smile.
Leaving Punk to lap up his milk, she boils some water in a pot and stirs in grains that she pours from a small packet. When it has finished cooking, she transfers the gruel from the pot to a bowl, grabs a spoon for eating, and sets her bowl down on her dinette table. A book is waiting for her there, which she reads while having her breakfast.
She wishes she could stay and read all day, but it is her last day of work and her friends are taking her to lunch in honor of her retirement. Reluctantly, she puts the book down on the table and walks through the living room, which is kept relatively free of clutter compared to the other rooms. There are two comfortable chairs and a small couch arranged in front of the entertainment box, or EB, as it is called, and in front of the couch is a small table to hold snacks and drinks while she watches her favorite shows. All the walls, which are a little dingy and need painting, have several framed photos and artwork. Against one wall is a long table displaying photos, martial arts mementos, and an item that is one of her most prized possessions. It is a framed photo of herself at forty, proudly holding out her deputy badge as she stands with her police friends Alma, Payad, and Jaris.
When she approaches the door of her apartment, Krissa hears a beep. Stopping, she takes the government-issued communication device—her comdev—out of her belt pouch and looks at the screen. She is delighted to read a response to the roommate ad she posted. As with any response on this service, it includes a name with a photo and a comlink. The photo is of a woman, around thirty, with thick brown hair and a broad smile, who has a long name. Krissa is sure she will not be able to pronounce it. Returning the comdev to her pouch, she grabs a staff that is propped up against the wall near the door. Almost an extension of herself, a staff is something she always carries with her when she walks outside.
In the hallway, the apartment door closes and locks behind her, and she makes her way to the front entrance of the complex. Stepping out onto the street, the decay in the city is obvious. She doesn’t react to it because she is so accustomed to it. The buildings have not been properly maintained, and the streets, which are jammed with vehicles, are filled with cracks and potholes. The designated walkways for pedestrians are narrow, and the concrete is broken and raised up by tree roots. Skritchers seem to be all over the place, and pidgees flutter and coo, leaving their droppings everywhere.
There is almost no way to keep from being bumped and jostled as she makes her way through the crowd. Fortunately, she does not have far to go, and she arrives at the tram stop, which is essentially a metal awning mounted on poles, stretched out over several backless long benches. The area is already crowded with commuters who are waiting to board the CenStat Direct Line, so named because it goes directly to Center Station without making any stops in between.
She checks her comdev again to see if there might be another reply to her roommate ad. She can’t believe there is only the one she received before she left her apartment. Why aren’t more people interested? Is the rent too high? Maybe she needs to rewrite the ad. She puts her comdev back just when she hears the incoming tram apply its brakes. Normally quiet, the city trams are propelled magnetically on a cushion of air. When they brake, however, they make a screeching sound that seems to last forever as they slow from high speeds. Gradually, the tram comes to a stop; the crowd waits for all the arriving passengers to exit from the other side. Then the doors open on their side and everyone piles in.
On the tram, s