The Bones of Titans

by B. T. Narro

  She mentally prepared for every outcome as she waited for Jin to return. The fire spread across the southern side of the city. The poor side. The northern homes were not being burned. They would be pillaged instead.

  How many citizens of Jatn would die tonight? How many people would live but with all their coin and possessions taken? How many women would…? She couldn’t even finish the thought.

  Rygen knew she should at least be sleeping if she was going to sit here and do nothing, but her anger kept her awake. She had half a mind to go down there and kill as many of these barbarians as she could…but the fate that came with that decision was not one she was ready to accept.

  Guilt ate away at her. She could’ve done more to prevent this if she had just prepared better. She could’ve learned to ride a horse. She could’ve forced Miqu to come with her. The woman was born rich; she definitely knew how to ride. Rygen could’ve spent more time trying to connect with a bigger and stronger creature that she could send back to Jatn to defend the people.

  She cared for Jin like family, but she was wasting her natural ability if she let herself become complacent. She would start reaching out for other beasts tonight.

  She finally fell asleep from exhaustion. She awoke that morning to Jin poking her with his snout. He was bloody and panting.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, Jin.” She petted him down the side that didn’t have blood on it as she checked him for wounds. He didn’t seem to have any, thankfully. This blood belonged to Jatn’s people, most likely.

  She made a rift for him. He cumbrously made his way over and hopped into it.

  Rygen got herself up and looked down at Jatn with her spyglass. The whole southern side seemed to be in rubble, from what she could see. Many of the taller buildings in the north still stood. A couple streams of smoke wafted up. A large group of barbarians was already a good distance north of the city. Some surely were staying behind to control the city, for they had been known to do just that in the past. Rygen didn’t know where they would strike next, but even if she did, what could Rygen do to stop them? She had no idea if Miqu was safe, but Rygen would not stay here any longer.

  She had a swig from her water pouch, then started east. She didn’t have enough food to sustain herself for the long trip ahead now that she was without transport, but she would find a way to make it.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Darren rushed after Jarrel’s troops in an impossible race to the palace. There was no way to close the distance, but it would work against Darren and the Analyte king if they took their time. The daughter of Dasfis Meplr was with Darren’s sons. They would all be killed or captured, but given how strong all of them were, Jarrel would be a fool to hold them for ransom. He was many things, but a fool was not one of them. Siki Meplr and her servants would be the only survivors soon after Jarrel arrived, but the fate of the princess would be a terrible one nonetheless.

  Lane rushed out of the building where Darren had left her, joining him in the charge.

  “What about Erisena and Mavrim?” Darren asked her.

  “They are being treated by FLip’s followers.”

  “Was anyone killed?”

  “Many,” she said. “We are still assessing.”

  There were many people, all allies he’d grown to trust, whose death would crush a small piece of him. But one person stuck out from the rest—an enemy he hoped had fallen.

  “Do you know if Owen Harell was spotted among Jarrel’s fleeing men?”

  “I’m not sure about that,” Lane spoke as she ran. “But he was seen murdering people of ours in the capital.”

  “So he’s likely still alive and with them.”

  “What’s the plan?” Lane asked.

  “We kill as many of them as we can.”

  “And about the princess?” She looked over at Dasfis. The king was not an old man, but he had trouble keeping up with the soldiers and had fallen a few rows behind. “Jarrel will demand many things, perhaps even your head,” she told Darren.

  “We will decide what happens together with Dasfis.”

  She moved a bit closer. “Darren, you probably don’t realize just how many rebels they killed. Many of our mages are dead.”

  The thought could cripple Darren if he let it. Jarrel was trying his best to ensure they would not destroy the kasigerr or the rift, and he was succeeding.

  The man must die before he does even more irreversible damage.

  It was a long run from the capital to the palace. Many of the men grew tired and lagged behind, leaving Darren and Lane at the front. He looked around for rebels he could truly rely on, but only Analyte men in armor surrounded him.

  They chose to put on their armor before joining the battle. They were clearly not the targets, and still they didn’t care to rush into the battle at the capital.

  Darren spotted two people speeding south on horseback as if chased by hellfire.

  “The spyglass,” Darren requested. Lane handed it over.

  There had to be fifty horsemen in armor chasing the two men. Darren thought he recognized the two as Leo and KRenn, but they were in the distance and Darren could only see their backs. Leo had shorter hair than Andar. KRenn’s was a similar length. Leo had broad shoulders for his age, but he still had a ways to go to reach Darren’s girth. He was tall already, though, surpassing KRenn’s height. Darren could almost be sure it was him and not Andar, but why would only the two of them flee from the palace? Where were Andar and Siki?

  Darren told Lane what he saw as he handed her back the spyglass. It was easier for her to carry a small pack of supplies given that her fighting was done with Artistry from afar.

  They tried to find answers that would explain why Andar and Siki would be left behind, but they couldn’t come up with a single theory that made sense. There had to be more than two horses available at the palace. Leo, Andar, Siki, and KRenn had all arrived on horseback. Jarrel and his men had yet to arrive, so there was no way Andar and Siki could’ve been too injured to ride. And even if they somehow had been, Leo wouldn’t have left his brother behind.

  Eventually, Darren and Lane arrived at the base of the hill leading up the palace. It was not a fortified building in any sense of the word, but it was built at the top of a hill that was more than a hundred meters long at its shortest distance from bottom to top. There was only one entrance, at the front on the eastern side. Jarrel and his men had arrived well before Darren, though a couple dozen were still struggling up the hill.

  There was no point in rushing now. The long run had fatigued Darren as well as Lane, and they still had to wait for most of the Analyte army to catch up, especially Dasfis. One thing could be taken care of now, though, to move this along faster.

  “Jarrel!” Darren yelled. “What do you demand?”

  Jarrel poked his head out of a second-story window. He looked much too calm, setting Darren’s nerves aflame. Jarrel peered eastward at the approaching Analyte army and looked content with himself. “I will only speak to Dasfis.”

  He clearly means to use the princess.

  “What of my sons?” Darren asked, pretending not to have seen Leo and KRenn escaping. “And the master mage?”

  Jarrel disappeared for a while before returning to the window. “One of your sons escaped with KRenn. We have the other here with the princess.”

  He must’ve assumed I saw Leo.

  Jarrel did not return again until Dasfis finally arrived. The king panted for breath as he dabbed his forehead. His violet hair had taken on a darker shade from sweat. He made no effort to appear more kingly as he spoke in Analyse with some of his men. Darren noticed the Analyte prince beside his father. He was probably in his early twenties. He held a furious stare at the palace as if wanting to rush in there and fight all of Jarrel’s men. Darren might have to play the pacifist here, even though nothing would bring him more satisfaction than to get his hands around Jarrel’s neck, except to have his sons at his side.

  Darren wished they could now take somethi
ng precious of Jarrel’s to use for a trade, but this was a man who had never taken a woman as his significant counterpart. He did not own a house or even an animal. He seemed to care only about gold, but Darren was not in a position to take away the man’s collected treasure. In fact, Jarrel would only add to it today. That was the whole point of his plan. He didn’t care how many lives he ruined so long as he became rich.

  I should’ve been more prepared for this kind of greed. Darren had been blinded by the sweet feeling of partnership when Mavrim announced that the rebels would now be allies. Darren had only feared for Mavrim’s safety afterward, believing the king would have to be dead before the rebels would be in danger again. He did not fathom such a thing as this was possible—Jarrel’s complete disregard for the lives of every Analyte man and woman, including the lives of future generations of humans. Mavrim had been Darren’s worst enemy throughout most of Darren’s adult life, but even in his most vile and greedy state, Mavrim wouldn’t have made such a decision as the one Jarrel had today.

  “Get out here, Jarrel!” Darren yelled, his anger getting the better of him.

  Jarrel took his time before sticking his head out the window again, a sullen look across his face. “Dasfis Meplr.”

  “What do you want, Jarrel?” asked the Analyte king with a burgeoning rage.

  “You just have to tell me where in the palace you keep your treasure. After I have uncovered it, all I ask is that your army returns to the capital.”

  “This is all just for money?” Dasfis sounded incredulous.

  Darren had silently predicted this request. Men like Jarrel were always after more power. If they were already the highest rank in an army, then they sought money and to one day be king. Surely even this wasn’t the end of his plan. He would make a grab for the crown soon enough. It didn’t matter to him that the entire human kingdom would eventually be enveloped in a life-destroying rift. He would be long dead.

  “Just tell me where you keep your treasure,” Jarrel said impatiently. “This can be over soon.”

  “And why would I let you take the coin of my people?”

  “Because I have your daughter in here.” He looked back over his shoulder before glancing down from the window again. “She is a very pretty young woman. I have many men in here who hope you will not comply with my simple demand. Because if you do not…if you disobey me, or even make me think you’re going to try something, then I will kill her myself. I will not have you planning or strategizing. For every quarter hour that you delay, another man will force himself on her as others watch. If you dare attack the palace, then Siki will be disrobed, mutilated, and her corpse will be tossed down the hill. Nothing has happened to her yet, Dasfis, but that will change soon. One quarter hour. That should give me just enough time to pick which of my officers will go first.”

  Darren heard Analytes translating the demands for the others. When they were done, the king’s son lashed out like an animal, shouting and attempting to charge the palace. Analyte soldiers held him back.

  Dasfis quickly calmed his son and formed a huddle with armored Analytes who were probably the king’s officers.

  Darren shared a look of worry with Lane. It didn’t seem as if Dasfis had any plan of consulting them.

  Darren yelled to Jarrel, “What have you done with my son?”

  “He is our prisoner until this over,” Jarrel called down. “If Dasfis tells me where his treasure is hidden, then your son will be returned unharmed.”

  Damn this man. Why did KRenn leave? Darren was beginning to realize that the master mage was probably not as powerful as Darren had assumed, or he was just weak from his time in the dark realm. Either way, Darren would likely have to resolve this himself, for Dasfis looked unready to give up his gold.

  Darren tried to interrupt their conversation. “Sire.”

  He was ignored.

  The king walked forward out of the ranks of his men and yelled upward, “Jarrel, my gold and precious stones are in the locked room on the upper floor.”

  “I know about that,” Jarrel said, annoyed. “Don’t attempt to convince me that fifty gold coins and some stones is all you have. You know it isn’t. I know it isn’t. Even FLip’s sheep behind you know you have more than fifty gold coins in this palace.”

  “Sire,” Darren said before Dasfis could enrage Jarrel further. “Please allow me to speak on your behalf.”

  “You will not.”

  “My son may be in there as well.”

  Dasfis was about to shout something to Jarrel but stopped. “May be?”

  “That is why I wish to speak. I think there’s a chance our children have already left the palace.”

  Dasfis translated for his questioning councilmen. They debated among each other for some time before Dasfis shouted up to Jarrel again.

  “I demand to see my daughter.”

  “You are not in the position to make demands, king. Your time is running out. I’m about to leave this window to decide which man goes first, and we won’t be speaking again until it’s over.”

  “We need more time,” Darren told Dasfis. “Let me speak.” Darren stepped up ready to shout, but the king put out his hand.

  “No, DVend. This is my palace. This is my land. What happens here will be my decision.” He seemed enraged that humans had usurped his control, but he was about to lose even more than control when the obvious lie he was about to tell would fail.

  “I have no more riches!” Dasfis said firmly. “All excess coin goes into helping my people. You are stealing from them, not me.”

  “I don’t care about them or you. The only people I care about are the men loyal to me inside this palace…and outside. If you do not give up your coin and gems, then this will only be the beginning of your troubles. Last chance before I decide who goes first with your beautiful daughter.”

  The Analyte prince screamed at Jarrel, then spat on the ground. He turned, red in the face, and pleaded with his father. Dasfis shook his head as the other Analytes around them contributed to the conversation. Darren had a feeling he knew what was spoken between them.

  They cannot give up their riches because they will not be able to pay their men to fight. Jarrel could take the Analyte cities, pillage from every city from north to south. But some councilmen are wondering if they might still convince their skilled soldiers to fight without pay. The king seems to be considering it as well.

  Darren was tired of letting Dasfis handle this incorrectly. “Get me a shield,” Darren requested of Lane. She nodded, her trust in him evident in her cooperation without question.

  When he’d equipped himself with a shield, Darren told, not asked, Dasfis what was going to happen now: “I’m off to speak to Jarrel.”

  Dasfis seemed shocked as he noticed Darren’s tall shield. “What is your plan?”

  “I will find out whether they have our children.”

  “How?”

  Jarrel yelled, “Last chance! I have chosen the man who has first turn.”

  Darren ignored the king’s question as he started up the hill.

  “They will shoot you!” Dasfis called after him.

  But none of Darren’s rebels voiced their worry. They trusted him as Lane did, as Darren trusted himself.

  Darren was halfway up the hill when Jarrel called down to him, “What do you think you’re doing, DVend?”

  “Deciding whether you’re lying.”

  Jarrel let out a small laugh. But he didn’t seem to know what to say afterward. Darren was nearly up the hill when Jarrel spoke again.

  “You will die with your son if you come closer.”

  Darren kept going. “You attack me, and everyone behind me will know that the only thing you keep in this palace are lies.” Darren watched for movement in the windows, noticing archers taking aim, but they looked to be waiting for an order.

  Darren soon made it to the base of the palace at the top of the hill. He was directly beneath Jarrel.

  “Look me in the eye and tell me
that you have Leo Quim and Siki Meplr in there with you. If it is true, I will go back and tell Dasfis he must comply.”

  “And afterward, you and he will take your forces back to the capital.”

  “We will,” Darren agreed. “We just want our children to be safe.”

  Jarrel studied Darren for quite some time, but it only gave Darren more time to study the man in return. He had keen eyes that were hard to read. His mouth remained a flat line. Darren was sure Jarrel put all his focus into maintaining such ambiguity. So Darren looked for other signs, instead: a defensive stance, tense muscles, rapid breathing. Darren found all, but even this couldn’t ensure Jarrel was lying.

  There was one thing, however, that kept circling through Darren’s mind that gave him an edge.

  Darren had tried his best to be a good father. He had made many mistakes over the years, but one thing he’d done well. He’d taught Leo and Andar to care for each other more than anything. They would never abandon each other, no matter what. Darren couldn’t piece together what had happened in the palace for Leo and KRenn to ride off together. Whatever did happen, it had been under KRenn’s watch. That meant it could’ve been anything. They could be dead already, given the experiments KRenn briefly discussed before leaving the capital with them. But something told Darren that his children were both alive. He would not doubt this feeling no matter what Jarrel told him.

  Jarrel had begun to disappear from the window at times, usually returning shortly after. Darren thought he heard the commander speaking to someone in a hushed tone.

  I’m not going to let him figure a way out of this questioning.

  “Jarrel, I will return to Dasfis with the answer you don’t want if you fail to keep your attention solely on me.”

  Jarrel flashed a look of anger down at Darren. “Ask your question!”

  “Did Prince Gavval put you up this?”

  Jarrel looked offended for a moment before his face set back into the unreadable expression from before.

  “That is unimportant to the lives of your children.”