Glenda Larke: The Last Stormlord

Oh, Kaneth, love, please don't die on me, not now.

Motionless and silent, she searched for power-and wondered, if he died, whether she would sense the moment his life left him. "Mother?" Senya asked, breathless after the climb. "What do we do next? I mean, if we go to Portennabar, Davim will just go there, too, and exactly the same thing will happen. We can't fight, because we don't have ziggers or enough rainlords or enough pedes."

"I'm glad to see you are finally thinking, child. Ah, here's the gully. I can sense the pedes, right where they should be."

"So what are we going to do?"

Laisa smiled in the darkness. "Don't worry, Senya. We are not going to Portennabar." She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Have you ever known your mother not to have a spare water jar in the cupboard? We have the Quartern's only stormlord. So we will go where there are fighters and ziggers and pedes and a man with guts enough to lead us to power and victory."

Senya's eyes widened. Then she began to smile.