A Choice of Blades: The Blade Remnant, Book One

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A Choice of Blades: The Blade Remnant, Book One Page 42

by D. N. Woodward


  “Now, give me as much of the full story as you feel willing to share.”

  Minutes later, Leon’s attempts to bring Gus up to speed weren’t sticking too well. Despite the more fantastic details that dealt with herding giant rats on hippos or rustling up Aurochs from the back of a bear, Leon doubted much of his account really made much sense to the old rancher. He could tell the conversation wasn’t going anywhere by the fact that Gus started doing what he always did when he grew uncomfortable, changing the subject to small talk about inconsequential things.

  When Leon didn’t rise to the bait of a prolonged conversation about the sorry state of beef prices during his absence on the ranch, Gus laid an arm across his shoulder and whispered conspiratorially, “You still have that medallion I gave you?”

  “Actually, I do.” Leon had completely forgotten about the old medallion. He pulled it out and handed it over.

  Gus held it up against the light of the smaller campfire they were burning between two crumbling pillars. Leon had a much better understanding of the symbols on the metal than when he first arrived, but he still felt he had missed something.

  “You know this is a map, right?” asked Gus.

  Leon nodded his response.

  “Good, and I’m guessing you didn’t come through that tree over there when you first showed up?

  “No, sir.”

  “Any ideas on where that one corresponds?” He jiggled the medallion and pointed in the direction of the massive Royal.

  “Yeah. We’re here,” Leon pointed the topmost gem on the Medallion, “just north of that big empty pass between the mountains.”

  “Hmm, thought maybe that was the case.” He flipped the gem over, “You haven’t learned to read the ancient script, too, have you?”

  “No, but Ferschall, our friend who died, managed to cipher out some of it in the last week or two.”

  Gus returned his attention to the script in his hands, “Hmmm, I'm sorry about your friend son. He's gone through, and you’re still here.

  "Did you know that the small circle there, just above this northmost gem here, serves as more than just a hole to slip a chain through?”

  “Uhh, no? What are you saying?”

  “Well, I guess I’m saying I know how to read this old language on the back of this here lump of metal. I guess I’m saying that maybe we shouldn’t all be sitting around like we’re waiting on a hearse to come pick us up…I guess I'm saying…”

  Leon cut him off, “Are you saying there’s another way out of here?”

  “Oh, well, yessir. I guess I'm saying that, too!”

  “Well, why didn’t you just say so?"

  “I was gittin' there,” Gus mumbled.

  "Hey, everyone, gather ‘round, quick!” Leon spoke to the others in the common Fayden tongue.

  “Okay, Gus, what are we looking for?”

  “I don’t know exactly…but the writing on the back of the medallion here says something about there being a 'path of last resorts in the first breath of the king’s shadow.’”

  Leon translated, and everyone puzzled over the quote on their own until Shay finally spoke up, “It's a riddle. It has to be.”

  Reed nodded. “And the king could be a reference to the Royal Tree?”

  “The sound’s right, but what’s the first breath of the king’s shadow?” Leon mused.

  Everyone spent a few more minutes contemplating the rest of the puzzle.

  Rezz and Dimples sprinted into camp and broke their collective concentration. “Reinforcements are moving in. We maybe have another thirty minutes, at most, before a much larger band of giants arrives.”

  Everyone threw out suggestions at that point. Though none of them made much sense to Leon. It wasn’t until Daz spoke up from the back of the group that he was provided a renewed glimmer of hope.

  “Could the first breath of the king’s shadow be referring to an actual shadow? If so, could it be saying it's where the tree’s shadow ends up on the cliff face in dawn's first light?”

  Everyone turned to stare at the rock face along the west side of the camp. Leon, Ferschall, and Dimples had been perched up on that rock wall only hours prior. Leon used his Blade's sight to study the ledge.

  “Was anyone here at dawn?” Gus looked around the group as Leon conveyed the message.

  “We weren't, but my guess, based on what we saw earlier, is that the sun rises there.” Reed pointed out into the empty night. Everyone turned, and those with the Bladed gift of sight could see a tall hill, rising directly where Reed pointed.

  “Good enough. Then that means the entrance could be two-thirds of the way up that rock face. Grab what gear we can take. We’re all heading up there together.” Leon shouldered his gear. Dimples shouldered a bag of torches and scooped up Shana, who was still very much out of it.

  Twenty minutes later, and the group was still searching. Pockmarks and shallow depressions dotted the ledge. Their presence made the task that much harder for everyone as Leon and his companions struggled to recognize any sign of an escape passage. Already, there had been a half-dozen false alarms.

  Westley shifted around for a better look at something below from his vantage point on Leon’s shoulder. In turn, Leon followed the owl’s gaze and spotted the first flicker of torches marching up the trail, just beyond the clearing.

  “I think I found something!” Kyra called.

  They all raced to where she crouched, a little higher up than anyone else had bothered to look.

  “It's maybe nothing, but these edges to this crevice look like something was used to carve them.”

  “She’s right,” Reed said as he searched up and down the rock ledges framing a rather ordinary, nondescript-looking impression. The carved stone looked to be resting in a track of some sort.

  Kyra's brothers prodded and pulled until the big slab came loose and tumbled down the hill, alerting everyone in the valley below of exactly where they stood.

  Dimples took a torch and crawled down into the opening. His legs soon disappeared from view and everyone held their breath while they waited for word as to whether it was another dead end.

  “You all had better hurry up! We don't have long!” Shay exclaimed from a little lower on the slope.

  She and her one loyal guard scrambled up to join them.

  “Keeps going, opens up further down, I think. This has to be it!” Dimple's voice sounded muffled as it echoed up from much deeper down in the hole.

  “You heard the man. Let’s get going, they’re almost here.” Leon waited while everyone filed in past him. Only twelve of his companions were left, counting an incoherent Shana, presently cradled in Gus' arms. He gave Leon a wink as he gently laid her on a blanket and pulled her in behind him, down into the darkened recess below. Merle and Ahab followed. It was a tight squeeze, but both of them managed to fit.

  Before ducking his head to enter the cavern, Leon took one last look down the hill. He used his gift to see more clearly through the falling snow. The view from up on that ledge would have been quite beautiful if he hadn’t been fretting for his life moments before. A small dusting of snow was only now beginning to stick to the tops of the ruins near the fire below.

  More and more giants thundered into the camp. They spread out to comb the area, nudging their dead and bellowing in rage. A few made a beeline toward the ledge where he stood. He wasn’t worried. They would be far too large to follow where he was headed.

  Just before he turned to dive in behind his friends, he caught a glimpse of three smaller figures standing together down below. The tallest man’s back was to him, but Leon had seen them enough that night to easily identify at least two of them.

  Slade stood by the now smoldering fire, calmly conversing with the one-eyed Vin, whose arm was bandaged. Next to them was one of the men who had arrived with Slade. Then the big man knelt down and gently pulled up a few small bundles from within his pack. He turned and made his way toward the ridge where Leon stood.

  Son of
a biscuit! I hope that isn't what I think it is!

  Leon turned and dove into the mountain behind the others.

  Chapter 33

  The initial descent took longer than Leon would have guessed. He ducked and shimmied to accommodate the low ceilings while the passage extended down at a sharp angle, several hundred feet into the mountainside.

  Leon, who was never a fan of tight spaces, didn’t feel capable of taking a full breath until the tunnel opened up, squeezing his companions and him out into a large, natural cavern.

  While sliding into that cavern, Leon heard a muffled shout from back up toward the tunnel's entrance. It sounded like, "Fire in … hole!"

  He yelled for everyone to run before jumping up and taking his own advice from his spot near the back of the pack. They all followed Dimples' torch deeper into the large cavern.

  Just as his whole crew was about two-thirds of the way across, the ground shook and a blast of fire and rocks came spewing out of the tunnel's mouth. The percussion knocked half the group to the ground and left the other half with a ringing sensation in their ears for a few moments afterward.

  Any chance they had of waiting out the giants and reusing the passage for their escape was gone. The tunnel completely collapsed.

  It took another half-hour for the smoke to clear. They didn't lack for light, though. Not only did Dimples have the original torch, but he had scavenged a half-dozen more of the torches off the bodies of the giants before leaving the clearing. Those torches, like large candle flames, were made of solid, green chunks of wood, doused in some dark black resin material. Daz, who had witnessed the giants many times in the past, swore each torch would take a few hours to burn.

  Leon was just grateful Dimples thought ahead before they left the camp. Though his gift of night-vision seemed to super-enhance his ability to discern contrast in whatever limited light was present, he didn't care to wager whether it would illuminate complete darkness. The canvas sack that held those torches quickly became the greatest treasure in the group's possession.

  Thankfully, once the smoke and dust subsided, the Stonebreaker brothers stumbled into a stream, and since there appeared to be some type of worn path along its banks, the group decided to follow the flow of the water. For hours upon hours, Leon and his companions pursued the stream. The path along its banks angled them down and around the contours of the cavern system, threading a twisting, winding road through a swiss cheese network of bedrock.

  The musty smell of the cave came and went as small breezes crisscrossed several narrow openings around them. The stream itself continued to grow in width and depth as they trudged along its banks, deeper and deeper through the core of the mountain.

  Leon dropped back to check on his fiancé when he thought she could use a break from his aunt. She was still deep in conversation with Shay, as she had been for the last several hours.

  “You doing okay?”

  “Yeah. Better, at least. Your aunt and I have been talking…about a lot of things.” Her eyes darted tentatively over to Shay. “I think you should just tell him.”

  Shay nodded, her face full of resolve. “Leon, I want my sister to pay for her crimes just as much as you. However, to do so, one must bring forth a reliable witness, verified by three or more practitioners, skilled in the type of mind art I practice. They must see the act committed first-hand as I have seen through your memory.

  "I've considered this from a hundred different angles and can only draw one conclusion. To my knowledge, not only are you the only person capable of testimony that would put an end to her reign, you are the only one qualified to truly replace her on the throne."

  Leon chuckled until he noticed her expression was still stone-cold serious. He stammered, "First of all, I'm not even Fae. Do you really think they would allow me to sit on their throne? Second, they may technically allow your practitioners to validate my memory, but what makes you think your queen won't cheat the system, after all she's done? And last, but not least, we're stuck in a cave a long, long way from your forest!"

  Shay gave him an indulgent grin in return. "Exactly, Leon. I don't think there's anything we can do about my sister, the queen, and even should we escape this cave, I never want to return to the Wild Forest while she rules. Instead, I'd like to swear my oath to another…if you would have it."

  Leon sputtered, and Kyra cut him off, "Give her a chance to finish, Leon."

  "Just because the Fae have only ever been ruled by Fae does not mean we have any rule excluding one such as you from sitting our throne. Perhaps we all perish in this hole, perhaps not. It doesn't matter, though. What matters is that I do my part to restore what was stolen."

  Leon was speechless, he didn't know what to say to that, but Shay wasn't finished.

  "I’d also like to take up a Blade. Kyra’s been telling me about all the ways it has changed her and those around her, and before something happens that makes it impossible for me to make the choice, I’d like to at least see if it can do the same for me.”

  Leon could see Shay had been struggling with sharing this for some time. It was obvious she saw the gesture of an oath to him as a way to restore some semblance of justice to her murdered sister, but he was no king. He sure didn't want his friends treating him any different either. "

  “Shay, I'll for sure give you my Blade, and I am honored you want to give me an oath, but honestly, you're my aunt, and you are way more qualified to rule than me…you don't need to give me any type of pledge to try and make up for what was done in the past. My mother may have been a princess, but I'm just a rancher. I wouldn't know the first thing about how to rule over anyone."

  "Precisely! That's exactly why I need to do this, Leon. I'm not looking for someone to rule over me, I'm looking for someone with a right to challenge the current queen should the opportunity ever arise. Until then, just think of me as an advisor who's going to be invested in seeing you learn to lead."

  Kyra interrupted before Leon could respond, "Leon, Shay isn't giving you something, she's asking for something from you. You may not ever lead the Fae, but like it or not, you are a leader. Leading isn't about telling people what to do, it's showing them how to do it. As your soon-to-be wife, I advise that you consider her offer."

  “Hey, everyone, hold it up there. Let's take a break.”

  After thinking things through while everyone else took a seat to relax, Leon turned to Shay, "Okay, I'll take you up on your offer, but I'm not promising to step in as a king of any kind, just so you know that going into this…?"

  She nodded.

  "I assume Kyra has shared the details on how and why you take the Blade?"

  She nodded again.

  He extended his Blade out to her, hilt first.

  When Shay gripped the hilt and pulled on the Blade, she gasped when she saw Leon still holding the original in his hand. The residual shock took her out of commission for a little while afterward, though not for as long as Leon would have suspected.

  When she recovered enough to speak, she sank to a knee and with a solemn voice, gave her oath, "By this Blade, I, Shay Softfoot, swear loyalty and truth to the rightful ruler of the Fae, Leon Waldman, for as long as I live."

  Leon felt an itch from the Blade in his hands. A response bubbled up in his mind, and he stepped forward to place a hand on her shoulder.

  "I, Leon Waldman, accept your oath. I promise, in return, to honor that loyalty and truth with character and wisdom." He knew as soon as he spoke the words that things had changed between them. Not that the change was bad, but a weight of responsibility that hadn't been there before suddenly settled upon his shoulders. Yet it blended surprisingly well with the small measure of joy and comradery he also found to be present.

  Moments later, her last loyal guard, Nort Dawner, asked he be allowed to take the Blade and make the oath as well. By the time they were ready to move out again, the only person in the party who didn’t have a Blade was Shana, though she was still delirious as she moved in and out of conscio
usness, never truly coming to terms with her surroundings. She continued to sleep most of their journey away. Still, though, everyone agreed delirium was a slight improvement over unresponsiveness.

  Leon couldn’t help but notice Dimples took exceptionally good care of her as they continued along. The Hootsi likely wouldn’t have even allowed Gus to help spell him from time to time if Gus hadn’t been forced to convey how he was, in fact, her blood relative.

  “Are you sure you don’t want someone else to help carry the girl?” asked Chocum.

  “No, thank you, my friend. Honor dictates I care for her myself.”

  “Why is that?” Leon asked. He kind of figured Dimples felt guilty over stabbing her earlier.

  “Because she is who I originally came to save.”

  “What do you mean?” Leon pressed.

  “I mean, she is the reason my clan and I pursued Ben and his men, to rescue her.”

  “Didn’t you know she was with us? That she wasn't actually being abducted against her will?” said Leon.

  “It didn’t matter. She was a woman being taken from Hootsi lands. Our customs mandated we intervene.”

  “You know that’s kind of messed up, right?”

  “I know a great many things we all do are kind of messed up, Leon. But I also know if I let this woman slip away for good this time, the sacrifice of my men’s lives will lose a little more meaning. The senselessness of their deaths under my leadership already haunts me enough. So, you see, I am not as selfless as our friend Ferschall. I’m giving her all I’ve got for the sake of my own honor’s redemption.”

  Leon didn’t know how to respond to what Dimples shared and it must have shown. Gus quietly asked for Leon to bring him up to speed on the conversation.

  “You’re over-thinking things, young man,” Gus responded to Dimples. “Reed told me a bit of what happened to you and your people. That’s a heavy plow for any man to shoulder. But are you sure you ought to be wallowing in all that poison?”

  Leon dutifully relayed his words.

  “Poison? What poison?” Dimples asked.

  “The poison of putting yourself in chains that aren’t yours to carry. That Blade you’ve got there is awfully useful for lots of things beyond just saving us from the distortions of the disease that has ravaged our people, but the bonds it’s best at cutting are those we never see.” Gus used a stern word, but his voice was gentle.

 

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