Free The Fiuri Realms (Shioni of Sheba Book 5) by Marc Secchia Page B

praised her imagination from the fiery core of Fiuriel to the very edge of the known tunnels. “Fiuriel’s Breath!” he declared at last. “Drink, my precious petals. Drink to this fine Fiuri, who graces us with her presence. May she soon discover her true colour. Shionelle, and Fiuriel’s Breath!”
    Everyone in the family picked a gourd off the puff they were hovering around, and drank. Shioni sipped gingerly. Like everyone else, she caught her breath reverently. The nectar was even more wonderful than she remembered, especially as she was not sneezing it out of her nose in large bubbles, this time. Although–there went one of the children, hiccoughing pretty pink bubbles in all directions. She was not the only one.
    A crystal chime struck sweetly somewhere in the house.
    Shioni glanced about. It was evening, and Fiuriel’s light was noticeably diminished. She had spent the afternoon resting on Viridelle’s bed, while Viri, Iri and Char disappeared about their business. Char had reported that White Fiuri were unknown to the scholars of Cave Seventeen. Viri filed reports at the Hunters Guild, while Lifirielle unearthed a pair of slim green shorts which fit Shioni perfectly, and a midriff-top which the family tailor had modified to accommodate her extra pair of wings. She felt properly clothed at last. Why was that? Lifi whisked her away to be perfumed and prepared for dinner. A whole heap of glittering powders, scents, and giggles later as Iridelle was forced to submit to the same rituals, Shioni was declared ready for dinner.
    She smelled like a bouquet of flowers. Several, in fact.
    Arandal held up his hand as the chime faded, his face grave. “Number three, Lifi.”
    “It’s a warning.” Viridelle grabbed Shioni’s hand. “Come.”
    But barely had she flipped her wings when a lean, severe-looking Yellow Fiuri whipped into the room, followed by a group of eight Yellow soldiers. They were the toughest, most unsmiling group of Fiuri imaginable. Not one of them wore less than fifty knives slung from bandoliers and belts upon their persons, besides carrying an armoury of swords, hooks and nets most likely used for catching Fiuri, Shioni thought. Two of the Fiuri children started to wail immediately.
    The Yellow Fiuri leader’s sallow eyes roamed the room before fixing ominously upon her.
    Shioni shrank back.
    Arandal said, “What’s the meaning of this, Ashkuriel?”
    “So, it’s true,” grated the Yellow Fiuri. “You’re hiding a Fiuri of no colour.”
    The curl of his lip clearly added the word ‘revolting’ to his assessment. Iridelle pulled Shioni behind her and folded her muscular arms across her chest in a clear warning. The eight thugs behind Ashkuriel put their hands on their swords–thin, wickedly curved blades that they seemed all too eager to use.
    The Yellow Fiuri smiled a snakelike smile at Arandal, picking at a knobbly purple scar beside his left antenna. “I’ll be taking that Fiuri–if that’s what she is–under my wing, Arandal.”
    “How dare you violate my home!” cried the Chief.
    “We sent a message,” said Ashkuriel. “Didn’t you get it? All suspicious events and Fiuri are to be reported to the representatives of Central Cavern, which means us. That colourless slug is definitely suspicious. Four wings? Where’s she from?”
    “She’s a medical case I’m working on,” Lifi put in.
    Arandal loomed over the Yellow Fiuri, his face dangerously enflamed. “You’re only to report suspicious activity, Ashkuriel. You have no authority to take this Fiuri from my home.”
    “Oh, very clever,” Ashkuriel hissed, as smooth and slippery as dark oil oozing around the indignant Chief. “A stickler for Caverns law, I see. Very well. Why don’t you give her up and we’ll consider this matter closed between us?”
    “Why don’t you bring the proper authority before I budge a wing’s breadth?” The Chief folded his arms.
    “Come here, child,” said Ashkuriel.
    Arandal