The Dark Disciple (The Daybreak Saga Book 2)

by Dan Neil

  Scipion turned and sheathed his short sword while he lowered the longer one at Jomar, who writhed and reeled on the ground while his horse ran away from the fire and fighting. Eritar stood resolute, towering over Jomar Day.

  “Stand—and die,” Scipion said as he dismounted. The fighting had stopped once Jomar’s horse ran off. His remaining men threw their swords to the ground. The stenches of bile, feces, sweat, and metal fused with smoke and fire.

  Jomar reached for the nearby sword of his dead comrade. Scipion stabbed him through the arm, between the armor’s joints and above his elbow. The Day brother shrieked as Scipion retrieved his blade. He then stabbed downwards through Jomar’s ankle to keep him pinned.

  Scipion mused, “It seems Malthas is with you today.”

  Jomar breaths were deep and quick, his eyes widening as Scipion unsheathed his short sword once more.

  “No, please; I’ll give you anything—tell you anything!” Jomar began to cry. “I’ll give you whatever you want—please!”

  Scipion held his blade to Jomar’s throat. “Where was this harvest going?”

  “Southeast to New Maidia,” Jomar choked out between labored breaths. “We were taking it to New Maidia! Anton told us to take it there—to meet him there.”

  “In Grythos?” Scipion asked in disbelief. “Your brother is a madman and a coward but not a fool. You’re moving closer to the Black Heart.”

  “He’s the fool?” Jomar mustered a laugh. “You didn’t hear? Scipion the Smart, the Scorpion Knight. I thought smart people were supposed to know things.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Lord Mornwas is traveling west from Freeport. We’re getting our harvest out of the Great Veld before he arrives in Sophegion. He’s gathering an even bigger army, and he’ll feed you to his monstrosities when he finds you.”

  Scipion frowned. If Jomar was telling the truth, the Black Heart would be in Alnatria soon—which meant that New Dawn would be the least of the Scorpion Knight’s problems.

  “You’re going to let me live, right?” Jomar asked. “My brothers would pay a fortune for me if you let me live, you know. They’ll pay you in gold, armor, women—whatever it is your men desire. We could even help each other, I bet. You’d make one hell of an enforcer—”

  Scipion slashed across Jomar’s exposed throat with his short sword. An unsettling wheezing noise cried out from his disconnected windpipe, almost like a piglet’s squeal.

  In a low voice, he uttered, “Send your god my regards.”

  His promise was kept. He regrouped with Matalo, who was wiping blood from his blade.

  After he dropped his weapon, Matalo smiled and hugged his friend. “Ho, Scipion. It’s good to see you alive, brother.”

  “Ho, Matalo. It’s good to see you, as well.”

  “How many did we lose?”

  Scipion said, “I count two of ours, though I haven’t yet surveyed the battlefield. Whoever perished did so honorably, and their sacrifice was not in vain. They lost Jomar Day.”

  Matalo frowned. “You bastard—I wanted to be the one to kill him.”

  “Well, he saw me first. We’ll tally up the dead.”

  “First, I think we should take stock of the living,” Matalo urged, gesturing to the twenty New Dawners who were still alive. “Should we kill them?”

  “Bind them around their banner. Leave them to the mercy of the land,” Scipion said. “If the land is merciful, I’m sure the Black Heart will not be.”

  The twenty men begged and pleaded for mercy, but neither Scipion nor Matalo would have it. They had witnessed firsthand the crimes of New Dawn. One by one, the captives were bound and left by the side of the road. Scipion’s soldiers looted the slain and took their supplies back to the encampment.

  Scipion found his lance still stuck in a man’s chest and retrieved it. He was examining it for cracks when his friend’s voice called out from behind, “Look to the sky, brother.”

  Scipion’s gaze drifted upwards. A meteor faintly danced amongst the stars; it was hardly moving sideways, if at all.

  Matalo announced, “We are that meteor.”

  Head tilting, Scipion’s brow scrunched up in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  “We seem so far away right now. But like that meteor, we’ll just keep going and going until we’ve gathered too much momentum to be stopped.”

  “I wish we had a meteor at our disposal; then, it would be effortless to destroy the Black Heart,” Scipion said.

  Matalo smiled and pulled a flask out of his armor. “Here’s to another great victory—well conceived on your part.”

  “Well fought on your part.”

  Matalo took a hearty swig of wine and smiled. “One day, these small victories are going to add up to something.”

  “I do hope so. If not, we’ll end up as bodies in a ditch by some road.”

  Matalo chuckled. “Precisely why we can’t afford to lose.” Then he raised his flask and said, “To a unified Madros Relia.”

  Scipion mustered up a half-smile and said, “To a restored Madros Relia.”

  “Someday, brother”—Matalo paused for a moment, taking a hearty swig—“someday, this land will have justice.”

  Chapter 4

  Grudge

  Day 97 of the Season of Aion, 1020 YAR

  Keia sat with her legs crossed in the Skystone Cave. Her chest tightened with each gasp for air as she ran, eyes shut, through a snowy forest. The fierce cold bit her skin, turning it red—and hot, somehow. She glanced over her shoulder, certain she was being followed. When her head whipped back around, a figure stood before her.

  He stretched out an arm and stopped Keia, lifting her into the air with magic. She whimpered and tried to struggle. His grip was too strong—stronger than she remembered.

  In Carter’s voice, the figure boomed, “You can’t run from destiny.”

  Pain tore into Keia’s head like an ax cleaving through her skull and slicing her brain, ripping a scream from her throat. Adrenaline surged into her veins, making her lungs ache for more air as she yanked at her hair and the skin on her cheeks.

  Then her eyes opened, and she was back in the Skystone Cave. Immediately, her lungs cried out for air. Myrddin sat nearby, his brow wrinkled in concern.

  He tilted his head. “Are you all right?”

  Keia closed her eyes and shook her head. “No! That’s the sixth time in a row. For some reason, Gaea must really want me to fear him—whoever the hell he is.”

  The wizard frowned. “Most peculiar. Did it say anything this time?”

  Her eyes opened, fixed on the ground in front of her. “The same thing it told me on the vault—that I can’t run from destiny.”

  “What do you think it means by that?”

  Keia wrapped her arms around herself and twisted her torso away from the wizard. “That I’ll have to face it again one day.”

  Myrddin gave a half-smile. “If it truly is the call of destiny, you will not face that day unprepared.”

  After a pause, she turned her head to meet his eyes. “Do you really believe that?”

  A grin came over his face. “I do, truly. Regardless, the time has come.”

  He flicked his wrist and opened a portal. Keia stepped through and emerged in the training field for the Fifth Magician’s Division. She and Myrddin were the first to arrive. Serenity came over the pasture; the sun was rising over the distinct biomes. Keia had never noticed how the light affected each area differently: it reflected off the icy tundra, scattered on the ground beneath the forest’s treeline, and even created a small mirage of a lake in the distant desert region.

  Myrddin pulled out two cups and plates with spellstones. “We’re a bit early today, but there wasn’t time enough for another vision. Now’s the time to eat or drink.”

  Keia pursed her lips
and accepted the wizard’s coffee.

  Within a few minutes, Captain Oliver Alrick stepped through. He gave them a strange look.

  “You are both here early.”

  Keia flashed a grin. “Early as you are, captain.”

  He blinked three times, his face otherwise as still as stone, then said, “Nonsense. I always arrive at this time to review the training plan for the day.”

  “Studious as ever. And what is the plan for today?” Myrddin asked.

  Straightening up, Oliver said, “I want the new recruits to focus on using wards in real time. Deione will run team battle drills with the rest of the division. After the soldiers eat, Deione will work with the new recruits. I will lead the rest of the division in group casting drills.”

  Great, Keia thought. My wards could use some work.

  Myrddin sighed. “Very well, then. I’ll be back for theory before lunch, of course. But for now, I have business to attend to, I’m afraid. Keep an eye out. And, if you need me—”

  “—reach. Of course. Best of luck,” Keia said.

  Myrddin turned to her and said, “Have a good day, now.”

  Failing to fight back a slight grin, she replied, “I’m pretty sure you’ll see to that not happening.”

  The wizard chuckled before departing through a portal. Oliver directed the veteran soldiers to gather in the hilly biome. They spilled in, nearly filling up the entire field by the home portal.

  Lesteria was the first of the new recruits to walk through. Her cold eyes searched until they fell on Keia. Wordlessly, she trotted over and stood beside her. Vhalia was next, and then Hitch, Finnegan, Ferred, and Raya.

  Then someone Keia didn’t recognize stepped through. A tall woman scanned the training field with piercing green eyes. Her dirty blond hair was tightly drawn into a ponytail, and her hand rested on the sheath of a magical dagger.

  The woman’s eyes settled upon Keia and stayed eerily still. Then she glared as Oliver shuffled her with the other veterans. He ordered them to start their morning run while the new recruits stood by near the portal to Diligence Square.

  Raya looked over and whispered to Keia, “Was there a reason that lady was looking at you like that?”

  Keia almost reached up to twirl her hair but stopped herself. Instead, she pursed her lips, brow creased in thought. “I have no idea. Do you know who she was?”

  Giving a curt shake of her head, Raya answered, “Never seen her before. Hmm—she must have returned from a mission.”

  Oliver’s voice boomed. “Start your run! Go, go, go!”

  The rookies ran off. Raya fell, twisted her ankle, and had to limp back to the main pasture. Keia ran on alone. She usually ran with Devin, too—who, despite coming to, was still in a medic bay.

  Hopefully, she’s feeling all right. I should visit her after training with Myrddin.

  Keia shuddered as images of Devin transforming into the figure flashed through her mind. She stopped for a moment, suddenly out of breath.

  An ominous, booming voice called out, “Keia!”

  Looking up, she saw the glaring woman who, using the full force of her fury, froze Keia in place. Prickles of fear danced along the back of her neck as her throat tightened.

  She coughed. “Y-yes?”

  “Keia—Atlos?”

  “That would be me.”

  The woman chuckled, but the hatred never left her eyes. “It’s really you, isn’t it? Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this? How many times I’ve gone over what I’d say when I finally met you?”

  Keia’s eyebrow raised. “Who the hell are you? What do you want?”

  The woman didn’t seem to hear her. She sneered. “Didn’t quite envision it like this, though—you being in the militia. Our bastard captain thought he could keep me away on assignment—but word spreads quickly across the kingdom. Once I heard word of your heroics, I made it a point to finish my mission as fast as I possibly could.”

  Keia took a step backward, her shoulders curving inward. The woman’s gaze smoldered with unwavering anger.

  Eye twitching, she unsheathed her dagger and pointed it at Keia. “I want justice for what you did—Day 153 of the Season of Aion, 1013 Years After Rhiannon. I doubt you even remember it.”

  The date was familiar to Keia; it was the day Ulrich had kidnapped her.

  “The day you killed my grandparents,” the woman said in a low, raspy snarl.

  Keia took another step backward, raising her hands. “Wh-what? I—what?”

  A jet stream of wind blasted from the woman’s wand, knocking Keia against a tree. She yelped in pain but landed on her feet. Fumbling for her wand, Keia’s heart was pounding ever faster as the wood grazed her fingertips and fell just out of reach.

  The distraught woman, with tears in her eyes, pointed her dagger at Keia. “Mallory and Emilia LeBlanc—do you even remember them?”

  The realization struck Keia like a lightning bolt. Her pulse ground to a halt for two seconds, paralyzing her.

  Just before the woman reached Keia with the knife drawn, a portal opened behind them. The woman sheathed her blade as Oliver Alrick stepped through, his expression stern.

  “What is the meaning of this, Lorinal?”

  Hatred blazed in the woman’s eyes as she took a step backward. Her gaze was focused on Keia as she said, “Just introducing myself, captain.”

  Oliver crossed his arms and said loudly, “It appears you have done that. Step away from her.”

  Lorinal’s frown deepened. Her hands tightened into fists. Keia’s blood turned cold when she met Lorinal’s eyes, filled with hateful fire.

  Oliver walked closer and said in a low voice to Lorinal, “Careful, soldier.”

  Lorinal growled and sprinted away. Oliver sighed.

  “Excuse her.”

  Keia took a few deep breaths as the world began to blur at the edges of her vision. A sudden rush of emptiness drained every ounce of energy she had left, leaving her muscles weak. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

  Oliver winced, leaning in. “It will not happen again. You are under my protection—and Myrddin’s.”

  Yeah, well, if your protection had been a second later…

  “Keia,” Oliver said, “this is not going to be a repeat of what happened with Axl. I will not let anything happen to you.”

  Squeezing her eyes shut, Keia shook her head. “Captain, I—maybe I shouldn’t be here.”

  He was taken aback. “What?”

  Keia released a defeated exhale. Slowly, she said in a soft voice, “You remember when I was taken by Ulrich?”

  Oliver nodded.

  She curled her hands into fists to keep them from trembling. A cold, numb sensation suffused her core. Turning her head away, she continued, “Well, I—nine people died that night—from the spell I cast: Ulrich and Gianara, their five followers, and—and the elderly couple, the LeBlancs, who lived next to the house Ulrich was squatting in. That girl—what was her name?”

  Oliver’s mouth had fallen open. “Lorinal.”

  Nodding, Keia said, “She’s their granddaughter, apparently.”

  Oliver frowned, stroking his chin in thought. “I see. But how can she hold you responsible? You had no control over the spell; it was not a matter of choice.”

  Keia stared at the ground. Her whole life, everyone had told her she wasn’t responsible for the spell she cast. “Maybe, but…”

  “There is no ‘but,’ to this. The blood of those people is not on your hands. You belong here, in the Fifth Magician’s Division, as much as any one of us. I believe Lorinal will come around.”

  The frown on Keia’s face deepened. Oliver had risked his life, and even sustained some wounds of his own, to rescue her from Axl. Though she’d never admit it, she trusted him.

  Sighing, she said, “
All right, then—fine.”

  Eyes shining with optimism, he said, “Less than three months to go, and then you can go on a mission and get away from all of this. For now, finish your conditioning. Go on—I will run the rest of the way with you.”

  Keia nodded and took a few deep breaths. She closed her eyes to collect herself. With Aliya and Carter in Greerwood, and the date of Keia’s trial closing in, Lorinal was the least of her problems. Before long, she’d be on a mission or in the Lockout—either way, far from Lorinal and having to answer uncomfortable questions.

  Oliver’s voice pierced her melancholy. “Are you ready?”

  Keia opened her eyes and nodded.

  Chapter 5

  The Bandit Camp

  Day 99 of the Season of Aion, 1020 YAR

  Aliya took a deep breath of fresh air. After spending so long in Genievon, she’d almost forgotten the world outside didn’t smell like a confined space jammed with too many people.

  Capital Forest was now at her back. Before her, the Plains of Ithera stretched to the horizon. The trees and carved paths gave way to an ocean of knee-high grass. In the distant northwest, the Koaion Mountain range was visible. Greerwood was still far from view.

  She shuddered at the thought of her mission.

  I can’t believe I’m really going there.

  Aliya produced the locket she always took on missions; within was a picture of the entire Atlos family smiling. She stared at all the faces, wishing her family had stayed in that moment forever.

  “All right!” Friedrich’s voice made her jump, and snap the locket closed. “This is the furthest north I’ve ever been. Every step’s a personal record, I say.”

  Aliya rolled her eyes. “You do realize where we’re going, right? You might want to take this mission seriously.”

  He raised his hands in agreement. “I am. I’m not gonna fuck around this time. I learned my lesson with the whole William thing.”

  “Good.”

  Aliya made to take her first step into the endless, gently swaying meadow.

  I wonder if I’ll ever return.

  She hesitated for a moment. Friedrich sensed her doubt.