Empire's Edge (Path of Light Book 2)

by N. A. Oberheide

  “I don’t see shit Gull, gimmie that thing back.”

  Trevin slowly swept the arc in front of him, saying nothing and breathing deeply. He apparently didn’t see anything either, but everyone heard something slam into the binoculars which exploded into a multitude of pieces and sprayed everyone with broken pieces of glass, metal, and lead. Everyone immediately ducked down.

  “I fucking knew it! I saw a flash and thank the fucking Gods for that fine dwarven craftsmanship! Get your guns!”

  They crawled along the bottom of the depression to their packs, grabbing their rifles and loading one in the pip with a quick flick of the levers. Naurus went to poke his head out of the ditch but was yanked back down by his father.

  “Are you stupid?! They almost killed me, don’t fuckin’ stand up!”

  “Sorry…but, where are they?”

  “I was looking right at one of them. I thought that lump under the tree looked odd. Then I saw the flash…”

  “Hidin’ behind the trees? Well shit, you don’t say?” Gully snarked, digging through his bag.

  “Gully I fucking hate you but listen up. They are using some sort of camo netting. Look for the tumors at the bottom of the trees. But we can’t just…what the hell are you doing?”

  They looked over to see Gully sticking his hat on the end of his rifle. He slowly poked it up over the edge. A sizzle like a ball of angry hornets tore above them. Gully lowered it back down, jamming his fingers through the neat round holes now in the hat.

  “See there, son? That would’ve been you if you didn’t have me to save your ass! Now we need to think…wait what’s that?”

  Gully now pulled a large, sphere of iron with a friction fuse sticking out the top.

  “A grenade? Gull, you’re a brilliant bastard. Is that the only one?”

  “I’m ‘fraid so!”

  “Well give it here, I know where I saw them last!”

  “Alright listen up.” Trevin started, cradling the grenade like it was the most valuable worldly possession he had. “I’m going to chuck this over where I saw the last tree tumor. As soon as it goes boom, you both need to jump out and take cover behind the nearest tree thick enough to block you, got it?”

  Naurus and Gully nodded.

  “Good, son you take up on the right, you and me on the left. Get in position.”

  In a few short seconds they were poised to go over the top. Naurus looked over at his father, who nodded to him. He nodded back, and his father yanked the friction cap off, lighting the fuse. He held it, cooking it for a moment which felt like several seconds to Naurus. The fuse sparked and smoked down. With one powerful heave he lobbed it over the top in a wide arc. Naurus waited, listening in anticipation, shaking, clutching his rifle as tight as his sweaty palms could manage. There was no boom, not after the seconds ticked by. Instead, all he heard was a faint hissing. His heart sank, looking to his father for reassurance. There was little to be had there. His father scrambled around in his bag, pulling out a small mirror. He sat up with his back against the berm and angled the mirror up and above him.

  Suddenly, a wide smile cracked across his face.

  “What? What’s so good about a dud?” Naurus asked, unable to contain his nerves anymore.

  “It’s not a dud. It’s a smoke bomb! The plan’s the same guys so get on your marks!”

  Naurus coiled up like a spring, bracing against the firm clay and grabbing onto a nearby root.

  “Go!”

  He shot up out of the ditch, not daring to look back. He glanced over and saw the thick, billowing cloud of white smoke blanketing a large swath of the area where it landed. He found a tree hardly large enough to hide him. A loud crack snapped behind him and something stung the back of his head. He reached back, feeling several splinters. He looked back, seeing a large hole in the trunk that wasn’t there before. Well shit, this isn’t gonna work.

  He looked around, seeing a boulder not far away. It was an open sprint there, but he had to do it. He lunged out, stealing a look over to where the shot came from. He saw nothing but smoke and trees. He made it to the boulder, apparently just in time as another bullet slammed into the rock, shattering and showering him with shrapnel and rock splinters. He stole another look behind him, seeing Gully just barely visible behind a distant tree. A flash, smoke, then the report met his ears. Gully had opened fire on someone…or something. Naurus wished he knew where his target was. He laid down, inching outward around the base of the boulder ever so slightly.

  He saw nothing, until he did. A mass at the bottom of a tree twitched, then he saw a flash. Another shower of hot lead and rock pieces showered around him. He heard more gunshots off in the distance, sporadic and varying in their distance. He peeked back but didn’t see Gully there anymore. A feeling of loneliness, even desperation started to creep up on him. He crawled over to the other side, sat up into a crouch, shouldered the rifle. He felt desperate indeed, but also foolhardy. He spun around and levelled his rifle off the boulder. The tree tumor twitched, but he twitched faster with his trigger pull. A puff of smoke and splinters blew out the tree, and the tumor rolled aggressively. Then it stood up and started running. It was indeed a man wearing a net woven thickly with twigs, leaves, and grasses.

  The man ducked behind a thicker tree, Naurus squeezing off another shot. He had no idea where it went, but clearly it didn’t find its target as the camouflaged man leaned out and snapped off another shot at him. He ducked back down, the bullet whizzing over his head. He started to feel cornered, frustrated, and most of all, angry. He worked the lever, figuring he had a few more shots before needing to reload. He sidestepped out from the boulder, firing off at the man and his evergreen shield, pinning him down. *click*

  Out of ammo, and furthermore out of ideas, he slid behind the massive trunk of a redwood and contemplated his situation. More gunfire sounded off, echoing and bouncing all around him from no particular direction. Then there was silence. Then there was more silence. He could hear how ragged his breathing had become, how his heart pounded in his ears. Then he heard something like a gull…a very loud and large one at that. His curiosity got the better of him and he dared to peek out from behind the trunk. He saw Gully waving at him, beckoning him to come over to where he was. Naurus hesitated, thinking there may still be someone not so friendly lurking about.

  “Get the fuck over ‘ere! They all ran off!” Gully cried out to him, finally dislodging him from behind his cover.

  He scampered over, only to find his father propped up against a log, sweat dripping off his face and panting heavily. His eyelids were closed, and his head drooped down as if too exhausted to even lift it.

  “Dad?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah…”

  “You don’t sound like it. We need to go before they come back!”

  “They…I need…rest…”

  Naurus looked at Gully with concern, who seemed to read his thought.

  “He’s gonna be alright kid…he’s just gettin’ too old fer this shit.”

  “But we need to go! Before they—”

  “I know.” Gully cut him off. “But look, he needs rest. He’s been runnin’ all night an’ day. Usin’ that there magick is exhaustin’ for old farts like us. You jus’ go on ahead, we will catch up. We ain’t far from the sea.”

  “But…no I can’t. How do you know we’re safe? Where are those guys?”

  “We capped a couple of ‘em. We saw at least one tuck tail and run. We ain’t plannin’ to stay here long, but you got somewhere to be!”

  “No..I can’t leave—”

  “Just go…please.” His father looked up with bloodshot, baggy eyes. “I will be behind you…I promise. Do…not…stop…”

  His head slouched down again and snoring soon filled the air.

  Naurus contemplated his options again but realized that he was between a rock and a hard place. He wanted this to be over, he wanted to finally see what person or thing awai
ted him by the sea. He slowly stood up and started walking back to the horses. He paused and turned around.

  “You aren’t going to leave him, are you?”

  Gully looked up at him incredulously.

  “There’s few things I hate in this world more than your old man, kid. But I don’t break promises, and I promised ‘im I’d be there till the end…long before you were even shat out into this world. Now go on, get!”

  Naurus did so, but with great reluctance. He mounted back up, and spurred onto to a gallop, following the quickly fading sun in its race to the horizon. His horse tired and slowed after not too long, then eventually just laid down with no warning. Naurus rolled off before he was crushed underneath, then grabbed the reins to try to stand his mare back up. The tugging was to no effect at all, before he realized the roan mare was not even breathing. Great…its last way of getting back at me. Dying in the middle of the road! Fan-fucking-tastic… Naurus drew his revolver, considering a mercy shot but thought better of shooting a dead horse. He spat and marched on, realizing he was now just about out of daylight but didn’t feel tired. He felt angry and frustrated, tired of the world and everything in it. This journey was not at all what he expected it to be, and he wondered what could possibly go wrong next.

  The road became increasingly broken and overgrown, passing through a ravine which then wound downhill. The night was clear, and the moon was out in full, giving him at least something to see his way by. Tripping on a few rocks and roots notwithstanding, he was making good progress. As well as he could anyway, with the heel of one of his boot soles slapping up and down loosely with every step. Both had started rotting out. He started to get a whiff, just a taste of the ocean though. He was close, but the moonlight betrayed no sea. Up ahead, he saw some sort of stone structure, rectangular and blocky.

  It looked rather broken and long abandoned, but he had difficulty discerning what it was supposed to be in the darkness. He carefully made his way into it, eventually finding a corner under an overhang that would at least protect him from rain if that came.

  I’m broke. My feet hurt. I’m hungry.

  All he could think about were the particulars of his predicament. He was too tired to entertain anything else. He jammed his satchel up against the wall behind his head and leaned back into it. He yearned for his bed at home, warmed up with the rotund body of his beloved cat, but the cold hard stone would be as good as it got for now.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  “I told you help was on the way. You didn’t believe me.”

  “Oh for the love of all the gods. Are you coming or not? I found the damn sea!”

  Laughter…childish laughter.

  “You’re so close I can feel your heart beating, your breathing coming up and down like a wave.”

  “So close and still no cigar…story of my life.”

  “You’re about to be proven wrong. Very dearly wrong.”

  “Oh, is that so? Are you just going to shoot me again like you did last time?”

  “You drew first.”

  “You shot first!”

  “And the problem is?”

  “I don’t have time for these games. Just find me if you want. I give up. Whatever the hell you want to do to me, just do it.”

  Giggling, sniggering, aggravating and agitating. He looked down. It all looked so familiar, so oddly and disturbingly familiar. He could have sworn he saw this place before. But he had never been here before. Or so he thought.

  “I’ll see you soon. Get your beauty sleep, you’ll need it!”

  “Yeah, no thanks to you at all.”

  “You’ll get what’s yours. I got mine.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  He was cold and worst of all, wet. His initial suspicion of rain was quickly dispelled by opening his eyes. It was perfectly dry all around him. The sun cast a golden-orange glow from behind the fluffy cumulous clouds that blocked the sunset. He yawned and wiped the cold sweat from his face, standing up and shivering in the chill of the breeze against his wet shirt. Now it was much more apparent how decrepit and run down this structure was. The granite blocks making the floor and walls were in various states of erosion, some split in half and crumbling to pieces. He walked out from under the roof and realized it was no roof, it was a second floor that ran the perimeter of the thickly walled rectangular structure.

  He saw something that apparently used to be a staircase up, but it had long since been beaten in little more than a pile of rubble where it once stood. The smell of the ocean was undeniable, the cries of the gulls were familiar so was the uncomfortable familiarity he had with where he was. He walked out and around the perimeter of the structure, coming to the realization he was on the edge of a sheer cliff. Out in front of him was a great expanse of glimmering aquamarine. He found what he was looking for, but still wasn’t sure if he was in the right spot. He still didn’t know what to expect. His rumination was ruined by the sight of a small rock skipping past his feet from behind him before tumbling over the edge. He tensed up, hesitating on what might have caused that. The snapping of a stick not far behind him removed all doubt and he spun around.

  He almost regretted that decision. In fact, for just a moment, he thought he was still dreaming. He pinched himself hard, the pain was unmistakably real. Standing hardly more than spitting distance away was the haunt that had stolen all his recent dreams. He froze and became stiff as if rooted to the ground. He was cornered. Standing motionless there, tall and unwavering under a leather cloak, hood hiding all but the most fain details of the face. The figure he knew and all the same didn’t. This familiar place that he had visited before and all the same hadn’t. He felt utterly unprepared, but at the same time immensely threatened. He felt he had no choice. Behind him was inevitable death, and so it felt in front of him.

  His clammy, sweaty palm found the backstrap of his revolver in a twitch of movement. He grabbed and pulled, with great speed…or so he thought. He had hardly cleared his holster before a flash of movement stopped him cold. From under the split of the cloak now poked a short and stubby barrel pointing at him. Too long to be a revolver, but too short to be a rifle, but it looked vaguely familiar. He dropped the revolver back into the holster, realizing he’d been had dead to rights. He closed his eyes awaiting inevitable death.

  Death was not what he heard. Instead he heard giggling. It was so much more visceral now than it was in his dreams. As was his anger. He opened his eyes back up, trying hard not to shake with anger and fear.

  “Do you know what the punishment for attempted murder of a superior officer is?” A harshly familiar voice rang out from under the hood.

  “…huh?” He couldn’t piece any coherent sentence together, he was too dumbfounded with how familiar the voice now was.

  “Strappado.”

  “…what?”

  More giggling ensued, as the figure took a stride towards him. Before he could react, a hand came up and the hood was flipped back. He hardly could have discerned reality from a dream at this point.

  “But…you’re dead…” He squeaked out before being wrapped up in her embrace.

  “That’s no way to greet an old friend.” She said, as his spine seemed to partially dislocate in such an embrace as could only be taught by dwarves.

  It squeezed the tears out of him, in fact. He couldn’t be stoic anymore, he couldn’t fight any feelings any longer. The tears rolled down his cheeks only to be swiped away by a hand that was caring as it was strong. She let him go, allowing him to look up at a face that could not have been more comforting in the circumstances. He hardly recognized her though. No more was the long, verdant hair. Instead, it was replaced by a side parted undercut with hair as black as onyx.

  “Missed me, didn’t you?” Morra asked with her signature haughtiness.

  He couldn’t be mad though, he wiped away the tears and took a good hard look at her. The lack of hair revealed a few new looking scars on the sides of her head.

  “Yes…but how? You’re…I heard
it all! Everyone said you were dead!”

  “You heard wrong. Who told you that?”

  “Well my dad said he saw you and—”

  Her finger found its way to his lips and pursed them shut.

  “Your daddy isn’t always right. I’m glad he got you out here safely though. Where is he now?”

  “I don’t know…he…we got in a gunfight with some people and he was too tired to move on. He said he would come find me but…”

  “I’m sure he’s fine. Magick takes its toll on anyone, especially the aged. Shapeshifters don’t have it any easier.”

  “I guess…but how did you get out here? How…you were bleeding out last time I saw you!”

  She stepped aside and revealed to him yet another oddly familiar sight: the horse-drawn wagon he saw behind her in his dreams. Sitting on it was an elderly looking couple, dressed conservatively in dark clothes, as if in mourning.

  “They are the reason I’m here today. I would’ve died without them.”

  “Who are they?”

  “My parents.”

  “Oh…but how’d you find them?”

  Morra laughed. “They found me. As it so turns out, they are the founders and headmasters of a nursing college that was just down the road from where the fight broke out. They heard the gunshots and ran out to help. They found me just barely clinging on, hardly even recognizing me. They stole me away and hid me from the prying eyes of the local guards and the Regulators who came looking for me. I see you keep looking at my hair, but that was their idea. Quite the disguise, isn’t it?”

  “Wow. Don’t know what to say…but I want to thank them.”

  “Yes, come along and I can introduce you to them.”

  He followed her back to the wagon, finding the well-weathered couple looking at him with eyes that had seen much suffering. Their steel grey skin contrasted with their inky, black hair.

  “Mother, father…I’d like you to meet Naurus. He’s the reason we came out here to begin with, and the reason that we reunited as fate would have it.”

  Her parents nodded towards him, saying nothing which made him feel uncomfortable. Morra sensed this and led him away back towards the sea.