Angst Box Set 2

by David Pedersen

  “Angst, you saved me,” Victoria said weakly.

  “I had help,” he replied with a deep sigh.

  “It hurt so much,” she said, resting a shaking hand against her breast. “I should’ve died, but you wouldn’t let me.”

  Angst looked at her for the first time since the attack, truly looked into those beautiful dark eyes. His heart swelled with love. She was okay. He would grieve for Hector, a loss from which he may never recover, but that loss hadn’t been in vain. His mentor would’ve approved, mostly. Victoria had leaned in, she was a kiss away, her hands on his cheeks. He licked his lips as she inched closer, and then her eyes went wide.

  Victoria pulled back and her jaw dropped. “Angst!” she cried.

  “What?” he said. “What is it?”

  “Your family!” she shouted. “Hurry!”

  59

  Angst grabbed Dulgirgraut and blurred out of the room, knocking over guards in his rush down the stairs. He leaped out of the corridor into the main hallway and landed on his swifen in one smooth movement. He couldn’t have done that again if he’d tried, and barely even remembered summoning it in his panic. He was too far past the point of exhaustion to do anything but go. And go he did.

  The midday streets of Unsel were bustling with business. Every vendor from every nation in Ehrde must’ve shown up to create a maze of food carts just for him. Between the carts were people chatting, walking pets, carrying children, and living life. Was he the only person in a hurry? They barely paid him heed, and he wanted to roar in fury. It was everything he could do not to blur straight forward and trample everyone in his path.

  “Move off!” he shouted at a particularly thick gathering of mob that just seemed to stand still.

  They looked at him with curious eyes or offended glares, taking his swifen and the two giant swords behind his back in such stride, it was surreal and maddening. They looked past him, several pointing up into the sky. Now what?

  “I’ve got you,” Faeoris said, lifting him off the swifen.

  “Thank you,” Angst said, his voice strained. He hurriedly dismissed his mount; it took two tries. He’d never been so scared in his life. That look in Victoria’s eyes had told him everything, and he wanted to scream or cry or just get home in time to save them from whatever it was. “Just...please just put me down outside the city. I’ll be faster on the swifen.”

  She didn’t argue, flying so fast his eyes watered. From the wind, of course. He summoned his swifen again as she swooped down to the highway, and Faeoris placed him gently on the ram. Before he could grab hold, a giant, steel mass blurred by, closely followed by an excited, high-pitched squeal. Scar and Kala.

  “No,” he said, looking over his shoulder at Faeoris.

  “Ride,” she shouted, her face pale and her eyes wide. “Angst, ride!”

  He drew in power from the two giant foci hovering over his back, their sharp hues of red and blue visible in his periphery. With a deep breath, he willed the ram forward. The first time he’d pushed his swifen this hard, he’d raced a dark beam of Magic across Ehrde all the way to the castle. It had taken a night and half a day fraught with worry and panic to reach Unsel. In spite of the frantic pace, he’d had time to think. Now he only had time to worry, and the half-day ride home was going to be done in twenty minutes. No, it would be fifteen. Ignoring his exhaustion, he willed the swifen faster yet.

  Whatever he’d turned Scar into, the dog now moved like lightning. When the giant lab had rushed by with Kala on his shoulders, Angst could barely make them out. This wasn’t the help he needed. Now, not only did he have to worry about the unknown nightmare placing his wife and children in danger, he also had to get there first. If losing Hector had taught him anything, it was that he had limitations. He couldn’t save his family and keep Kala safe, especially without knowing what they faced.

  Despite clear skies, water sprayed his cheeks. Angst wiped away a thick, foamy drop and rubbed it between his fingers. It was slimy. The spray wasn’t rain; it was doggy drool. He was getting close, and could just make out the reflection of sun off Scar’s hide, flashes of light as the dog passed trees. More slobber—enough that under normal circumstances, he would’ve laughed.

  “Stop!” His cry was muffled by a mouthful of wind.

  When he pulled up alongside the dog, Kala’s eyes were glowing. She was wielding. What was she wielding?

  “Kala, stop!” Angst tried again. “This is too dangerous.”

  “Scar says we need to be there!” she replied, her eyes flickering as she lost concentration.

  Scar slowed slightly before picking up speed again. The girl was willing him to go faster, just like Angst did with his ram swifen. She must’ve watched him do it, and copied his magic. Angst shook his head in amazement. That young girl was going to be a force, and he looked forward to watching her become the hero he should’ve been. But something didn’t make sense. After Angst cast the spell, at all costs, Scar was already able to run at a blur. How was she able to will the dog to run faster without some source of power to draw on?

  A guilty song quietly entered his thoughts.

  “Chryslaenor?” he asked aloud. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

  She’d drawn power from his foci when they cast the spell on the memndus stones, and was now leeching power from it to make Scar run faster. That sneaky little genius.

  “Chryslaenor, you have to stop,” Angst said. The sword actually whined in protest. It liked her. He couldn’t believe it, but the sword apparently liked the girl, he could sense it. “This will put her in danger. She can have you when this is all done, if that’s what you want, but I can’t keep her safe and protect my family. Stop, now!”

  With Dulgirgraut’s help, Angst cut her off, and Scar slowed to a mere blur, but it was enough for Angst to pull far ahead. Chryslaenor wasn’t happy with the decision, and the hairs on the back of Angst’s neck bristled at the buildup of power. The swords wanted to have an argument now?

  “I don’t have time for this!” Angst cried out desperately. “Please!”

  The songs in his head instantly stopped. The change was so abrupt it was jarring. He glanced up, and in his panic, almost reared his swifen to a stop.

  “No,” Angst shouted. “No!”

  Dark, billowing plumes of smoke rose over the distant trees and blackened the horizon. Fire. Magic hadn’t been lying. He’d assumed Scar had killed the element, and in his rush to save Victoria, hadn’t given it any further thought. How had the element even known where he lived? Had they ever even made a fire in the fireplace? It wasn’t necessary—his cabin was always hot. It was like they’d built it over a hot spring. And it struck him. Fire had threatened to destroy everyone he loved. Angst had thought it nothing more than noisy bravado, but the element had always been there. Fire had been at his home the entire time!

  Angst wasn’t going to make it. He was so tired. He hadn’t counted on going into battle after feeding so much power to the portal spell. Feint remnants of energy drained from him like water out of a leaky bucket. He couldn’t make the swifen move any faster. More smoke poured up into the sky. Cries and warnings followed him as he passed Rookshire. His heart raced the swifen, and Angst swallowed fear as he drew both foci.

  Fire stood near his destroyed home. The element was smaller than Angst had ever seen it. Once the size of a mountain, it now looked more like a Nordruaut. But still an element, and still dangerous. Fire ignored his approach, holding a large ball of flame in one raised hand even as he stared down at Heather and his children. The babies cried, their screams like music because that meant they were alive.

  “Angst!” Heather called out. “Stop! He’s been waiting for you.”

  He had made it, and there was no time to waste. With a nudge of will, the swifen went from a blurred rush forward to a sudden and complete stop. Angst was somehow able to create an air shield as he was catapulted directly at Fire. He hoped the momentum would be enough to topple the element over before shredding it
with his two swords. No matter how tired he felt, he knew Fire had to be depleted of power after Scar’s attack. There was a chance. Hope swelled in Angst’s chest, and he gritted his teeth in anticipation of the violent beat-down he was going to inflict on the element.

  The ball of flames Fire had been holding struck Angst with such force his weak air shield disintegrated on impact. Bones snapped and tendons screamed for mercy as he was slammed against the remains of his home.

  Instinctively, he held Dulgirgraut over his face and chest. He couldn’t move the arm holding Chryslaenor; it must’ve been dislocated. That was the least of his pain. His back hurt so much he couldn’t even scream. The fireball was gone, but behind it was a constant barrage of flame that melted away his armor and burned his legs. Angst couldn’t move; he could only barely create another shield that kept his remaining skin from burning away. The attack stopped, and he lay there, smoke rising from his body like a freshly cooked turkey.

  Angst lowered Dulgirgraut. His position against the rubble of his house provided a full view of everything. Heather held the babies close, boldly staring up at Fire. He had to save them, but he could barely move. The bones that weren’t broken were locked into place by armor that had melted around his body. Fire stood beside his family, even smaller, now the size of Tarness. The element laughed maniacally, his crackling voice grating in Angst’s ears.

  Angst willed the melted armor into sand, freeing him. Hot grains of metal lodged in his burned skin. He whimpered, knowing he only had seconds. Pushing himself to sitting was like forcing a rusty, iron door open. But something else was wrong. He couldn’t move his legs; he couldn’t even feel them.

  The element had shrunk again, now the size of a man. He held another ball of fire in his hand, smaller than the last but still large enough to engulf his family. Angst covered them in an air shield, but it was all him and not the swords. Dulgirgraut struggled to keep him alive while Chryslaenor kept him awake. It was everything they had to give. He was so weak, he hurt so much, it would have to be enough.

  “I’m impressed,” Fire said, the power gone from his voice, sounding much like Angst felt. “I knew you could beat me if I held back, so I’m sacrificing myself to win. I’m using the last of my power to kill your family, and then you. I’ve never done that—since the dawn of creation I’ve never had to use the last of my power just to beat someone, but it is worth it just to destroy you, human.”

  “Please don’t do this,” Angst wheezed.

  “Just enough left,” Fire said weakly, raising his hand.

  “Angst,” Heather called out. “I love you!”

  “I love you!” He coughed.

  “Her name,” she shouted. “Your daughter’s name is Eila!”

  “Heather,” Angst cried.

  Fire drew his hand back dramatically, as if stretching out that moment just to torture him. He took aim at Heather, Thom, and Eila. She stared up at the element with a fierce glare, as if her defiance would deflect their inevitable death. It wouldn’t, and the element threw the ball of flame.

  “What?” Fire called out as it left his hand.

  The dog’s bark was loud enough to make the ground shake. Scar and Kala blurred forward, straight into the path of the oncoming fireball. The fire struck Scar’s steel hide, encompassing the dog, Kala, and his entire family.

  In a blinding flash of light, all of them were gone.

  Front Matter

  Cover art by:

  Alessandro Brunelli

  Editing by:

  Angela D. Pedersen

  http://www.angiewrites.com

  Danielle Fine

  http://www.daniellefine.com

  © 2016 by David J. Pedersen

  Odysia Press

  All rights reserved.

  Created with Vellum

  Acknowledgments

  I have great admiration for prolific writers who can produce vast quantities of amazing content that barely needs to be glanced at by an editor. That's not me. I need a team, and mine is amazing.

  My wife, Angie, tackles first contact with my drunken ram-blings and helps make enough sense of them to share with my beta team. Cristi, Becky, Matt and Mike give each chapter a read-through, often multiple times. They all provide amazing insight, make great suggestions, and sometimes Cristi draws colorful pictures in the margins! My beta team makes it fun, and is always there to give me a boost over any writer's block.

  After the rough draft is complete, Danielle Fine gives the manuscript a thorough beat-down in the way only a professional editor can. While she's making me cry, er, I mean making me a better writer, I also work with Alessandro Brunelli on the cover. Let me rephrase that. I provide Alessandro with a description and a sketch that and he turns into beautiful art.

  When all that is done, the marketing begins. My muses, Cristi, Marina, and Mayra help me sell books by cosplaying as Berfemmian at conventions and gracing my Facebook page and website. Yeah, I'm the luckiest guy on earth...because I have incredible friends!

  I also need to give a quick shoutout to my daughter Joanne and her friend Sarah who have also stepped in to help at cons.

  Finally, I have to thank you for taking the time to read my books! As much as I love to write, it doesn't always come easy for me. But, it always seems that when I'm the most frustrated, someone will post a thoughtful review or send me a kind note of encouragement. I couldn't be more grateful for the support.

  For Sara “Bob” Prideaux

  Her life ended too soon,

  but her magic will live on.

  Dying with Angst

  Book 5

  Prologue

  18 years ago

  Angst ran fingers through his thick, dark hair in a final attempt to tame it. He should’ve made time earlier in the week for a haircut. Not that it would’ve helped; his hair grew like weeds in spring and probably would’ve grown back overnight. He longed for thinner hair that would be easier to manage, but that was as likely as gaining weight.

  “Are you done primping yet, pretty boy?” Hector asked in his gravelly voice. “Just remember, the only one you have to impress tonight is me. And so far, I’m not impressed.”

  “I’ll be impressed if my pants stay on,” Angst said, pulling them up for the hundredth time. “I thought your training would bulk me up. At this point, I’ll never gain weight.”

  “The way you flirt,” Dallow said with a cautious smile, “I’m surprised you bother wearing any.”

  “Heh,” Hector replied, coolly.

  Angst flashed Dallow a broad grin, even as his friend retreated from the conversation. While grateful that both men had agreed to accompany him, he was wary about the evening since they didn’t exactly get along. They couldn’t have been more different. Dallow was a tall, lanky bookworm, who practically lived for his job at the library. His long blond hair, tanned skin, and intelligent gaze caught the eye of many women, but he ignored them all as he was already married. Between his job and wife, Dallow seemed happily stuck in his life like a bug in amber. Angst wouldn’t have described him as boring, exactly. At least not to his face.

  Hector was a soldier-for-hire, and widely recognized as one of the best. His efficiently cropped dark hair and piercing blue-gray eyes were practically wolf-like as they took in everything, always. A wincingly fresh scar stretched along his jaw from ear to chin. His friend was the definition of intense, and knew it.

  “Still happy you came to the capital?” Hector asked.

  “Best decision I’ve made yet,” Angst said.

  The largest city in Unsel was always alive, except for maybe a brisk nap between 3 am and 5. Twenty-two was the perfect age to live here, and his first two weeks had already been an adventure. The food was amazing, the booze even better, and there were so many beautiful women that it always felt like his birthday. Thanks to his friends, Angst had landed a job filing papers at the castle. It was entry level, but an opportunity for greater things. Yeah, Unsel was the best, and it could only get better. Starting t
onight.

  “Whatever you do, please don’t embarrass me, Angst,” Hector said. “The king and queen will be here, along with Commander Tyrell. You should save drinking for after the party…”

  Hector continued talking about something, and Angst politely nodded after every pause as he took in the crowd. His ears were buzzing, but not from his mentor droning on about expectations. The king and queen had thrown this party in honor of the castle staff, and he was overwhelmed by the extravagance. So many important people had shown up, from dukes to knights to everyone in charge. Not only was this his chance to make an impression on royalty, but maybe even meet young Queen Isabelle. He grabbed another goblet of mead from a passing tray, earning a frown from both the servant and Hector.

  “Good advice,” Dallow said, interrupting his thoughts. “I’d like to keep my library job. I’ve only had it for a short while, and it’s everything I’ve ever wanted. Have I told you how many books they have on—”

  “No,” Hector said, holding up a hand. “And I don’t care.”

  “Did you ask Tyrell if he would duel me in a training match?” Angst asked, quickly taking a sip before Hector could snatch the drink away. “I hear he’s the best.”

  “I’m the best,” Hector corrected, his thick brows furrowed. “He said he’ll consider it. Tyrell only trains with commissioned soldiers, but I asked, as a favor.”

  “Did you tell him I plan to be a knight?” Angst asked.

  “I may have mentioned that,” Hector said with a thin-lipped smile.

  “A knighthood’s unlikely,” Dallow said. Pressing his hands together, he tapped two fingers to his chin. “It’s been a long time since wielders have been knighted, and longer since we’ve been allowed to wield openly. I’m sorry, but the chance of that happening—”