Heir to a Lost Sun: A Caverns of Stelemia Novel

by Riley Morrison

  Aemon was wet, miserable and afraid.

  He attempted to hold back a bitter laugh, but it came anyway. To think he had once thought counting coins and cleaning the vault were the worst things imaginable! How insular and sheltered his life had been.

  It was a relief to wake Kara for her turn on watch. He only hoped his fatigue would outweigh his discomfort and fear and that he would slip off to sleep easily.

  She woke him hours later and they set out along the highway. Aemon’s eyes were heavy with fatigue and his back ached. He had barely slept, though Kara did not look like she had fared any better. She shuffled her feet, shoulders slumped, eyes half closed.

  Some time later, light appeared in the tunnel ahead. It has to be the guard post near the entrance to Deep Cave, he thought, elated. He increased his pace. How he wanted to get to the city, find a room at an inn and go to sleep beside its warm fire.

  His heart kicked. The lights were moving.

  Aemon grabbed Kara’s arm. “We need to hide.”

  She watched the lights, then nodded once. He led her into a side passage and doused their torch in a pool of water.

  If it was Kahan, they had to be ready.

  He unsheathed his sword and waited. Instead of black-clad figures, a column of peasants shuffled by the entrance, their haggard faces grim in the swaying light of their torches.

  Some were covered in blood, others looked like they were in shock—many were both. Had the war between the noble houses in Deep Cave gotten out of control?

  Only once had the peasantry of Deep Cave been driven from their homes by the war—when both noble houses had escalated the conflict by hiring thugs from Gravelbank Bridge who had gone to Deep Cave to offer their services as mercenaries. Once on the payroll, the thugs went about robbing, beating and sometimes killing anyone who had been accused of supporting one side over the other. The thugs were also more than happy to kill one another in drunken brawls that often spilled over from taverns onto the streets. In one such fight, things had gotten so bad that the local garrison was unable to bring order to the streets and the people of the city began to flee.

  The Priest King had sent an army to reestablish order in the city and end the war between the noble houses. He succeeded but the peace lasted no more than a generation before the ruling houses were fighting again but as long as the fighting was kept off the city’s streets and remained in its back alleys, sewers and noble estates; the current Priest King seemed content to let it be.

  The refugees continued to trickle by in the dozens. Things must be really bad, for it seemed as if the entire population was fleeing. Maybe now, the Priest King would be forced to intervene.

  “Let’s find out what’s going on,” Kara said and started to make her way back toward the highway.

  Aemon struggled to sheath his sword in the dark. He did not like the idea of going out there, but it was too late to stop her. Growling under his breath, he raced after her, still trying to get the sword back in its scabbard.

  He caught up to her just as she had finished asking a man what was going on. “War,” the man said, shoving past her.

  Kara stopped a plump woman with a black cat cradled in her arms. “What’s happening? Why are you fleeing?”

  Aemon finally got his sword sheathed. “Is it the noble houses?”

  “It’s not the noble houses,” the plump woman said. “They’ve joined forces, for once.”

  Aemon watched a peasant couple with six children hurry past. “Then who is driving you from your homes?”

  “Not who... What.”

  “What?”

  “You dumb ox.” The woman stamped her feet. “I’d have said if I knew. All I’ve heard are rumors. Rumors of this and that, and metal beasts that breathe fire.”

  Kara looked at Aemon as if he would know what the woman was talking about. Metal beasts that breathed fire? It sounded like madness.

  Aemon was about to ask another question when the cat looked down the side passage he and Kara had just emerged from and started hissing. They peered down the passage, but the gloom made it impossible to see far.

  “Something’s back there,” the woman said, and hurried away.

  Kara grabbed Aemon’s arm and dragged him through the throng of refugees. “If it’s Kahan, we can try to lose him in the crowd.”

  “But we are the only ones heading toward Deep Cave.”

  “Have you got a better idea?”

  No, he did not.

  When they were half a mile further up the road, a commotion began behind them. They turned to look, but there were too many people in the way to see what was happening.

  Screams and curses echoed along the highway. The passing peasants stopped and peered ahead warily. Aemon and Kara had to push their way through the refugees so they could keep moving toward Deep Cave. Behind them came the sound of hundreds of running feet, along with screams of pain and terror.

  All at once, the column of peasants turned and hurried back toward Deep Cave. The retreat quickly became a rout, with the sick, elderly and slow trampled underfoot.

  Aemon cursed. He wanted to stop and help those who were being trampled, but there was nothing he could do. If he went to their aid, he risked joining them. Kara held onto his hand as they tried desperately not to be torn apart.

  They crossed a stone bridge spanning a noisy river that almost drowned out the sounds of screaming and running feet. “Kara, that must be the Vadose Canyon, which means we are close to the end of the Limestone Caves.”

  A minute later, they ran past a deserted guard post lit by a lone torch. Aemon would have jumped for joy if he could. Deep Cave was near.

  Soon they emerged into a huge cavern lit by phosphorescent bacteria and sacred lights connected to one another by electrical wires on mushroom stem poles. This end of the cavern was dominated by the city from which the cavern took its name—Deep Cave.

  About a mile from them, at the center of the city, stood a large castle on a rocky precipice, its windows reflecting the glow of the sacred lights illuminating the gardens around it. Like a flock around a shepherd, the stone buildings of Deep Cave stood around the base of the precipice, some with minarets reaching almost half as high as the spires of the castle. Looming beyond the city was the legendary Iron Tower of Jharman, the tomb of the founder of Deep Cave and blessed servant of Lydan.

  As peasants jostled by them, Aemon dragged Kara away from the entrance to the side of the highway. When they were free of the stampede, which continued to spill down the road, he stopped and stared.

  Fires raged inside Deep Cave’s walls and thick smoke blanketed the cavern roof, partially obscuring the bacterial light. A host of strange figures moved on the far side of the city. They had to be the metal beasts the plump woman had spoken of. Squinting his eyes, Aemon tried to get a better look at them.

  It was no use. Between the dimming light and the smoke, he could not get a clear view. A bright flash erupted from among the teeming mass of figures and then an explosion ripped a hole through part of Deep Cave’s outer wall. Bits of stone and metal flew in all directions, some ejected so far they would land outside the city. Two seconds later came the roar of the explosion.

  Three more explosions followed the first, then seconds later—Boom. Boom. Boom.

  “Lydan, protect us,” Aemon said, calling upon the Shield of Heaven.

  Heart thumping in his chest, he took Kara’s hand and began to move deeper into the chamber, aware that whatever was coming up behind them would be drawing near. They should stay among the flock of refugees. There was safety in numbers.

  As he ran, he watched the city—which had stood for years beyond count—slowly crumble under the barrage of mysterious enemy projectiles. People were everywhere, fleeing toward the city, away from it or milling around in the mushroom fields growing on this side of the city, as if uncertain what to do.

  Kara scanned the chaos, her face ashen. “How can we find Wrynric in all this?”

  Aemon’s stomach c
lenched as a whole section of wall came crashing down. The enemy seemed to want to destroy Deep Cave, not capture it. If the barrage continued, the city would not hold out long.

  “I am... not sure.” Panic began to take hold of him. What are we going to do? We need to flee, his brain screamed.

  A long moment passed before he got a hold of himself enough to think straight. “We dare not approach the city while it is under attack.”

  Aemon tried to speak to some of the peasants fleeing beside them and ask the location of the entrance to Radashan Crevice, but none would listen.

  Increasing her pace, Kara held tightly onto his arm to make sure he did not fall behind. “We need to hurry up and decide what we’re going to do.”

  Aemon grimaced and put a hand to his forehead. Think, Aemon. Think.

  A spark of hope flickered within him. “I know someone who might help us find the entrance to Radashan Crevice. He is an agent for the bank and lives in one of the small hamlets outside the city.”

  Kara frowned. “But if we go to this agent, won’t he tell the bank you’re still alive? You said—”

  “I know what I said, but we have to risk it. We have no choice.”

  Kara touched the artifact. “Let’s find him, then.”

  Aemon nodded. Now all they had to do was find their way through the chaos before the city fell and the enemy moved to destroy everything around it.

  Chapter 7

  KARA

  The flood of people around Kara and Aemon grew. They sprinted deeper into the mushroom fields growing along the edge of the road to avoid the worst of the stampede. There were distraught refugees everywhere, some stumbling over rocks or each other in their haste to flee the tunnel. Their cries of terror and pain were not enough to drown out the sound of enemy projectiles tearing holes through the city walls.

  Deep Cave’s defenders fought back with a volley of liquid fire hurled by catapults. The flames landed amidst the mass of enemies arrayed two hundred feet from the city walls. As the great fire raged among them, a large, rotund figure holding something in its arms moved over to the flames. White mist sprayed out of the object in its hands, obscuring the burning enemy. When the mist dissipated half a minute later, it revealed not charred bodies—but scorched metal.

  The scorched metal moved.

  No wonder the woman with the cat had thought the city faced metal beasts. Some had two legs and arms like humans while others walked on all fours like dogs. Several of the larger attackers carried a long, cylindrical pipe over their shoulders.

  Kara focused on one of the metal beasts. It knelt and shoved something into the end of the pipe, then leveled it at the city. A moment passed, then something trailing smoke shot out of the pipe at high speed. The projectile smashed into the castle of Deep Cave and seconds later came the crack of shattered stone.

  Whatever was destroying the city was coming from those pipes! But, what were they?

  Another round of liquid fire flew from the city walls. Again, it had no effect. Kara recalled a time when a horribly burned soldier had told her all about liquid fire. He’d only been close to a liquid-fire spill, not doused in it, yet had still suffered major burns. The men around him, unfortunate enough to be in plate, had roasted alive in their armor.

  No one could survive being doused in liquid fire.

  She let go of Aemon’s arm and pointed. “Look, they’re still alive. What do you think they are?”

  Aemon studied them as he ran. “I am not sure. Some must be four times the size of a man.” He faced forward again. “Maybe they are not human.”

  Not human? That was a scary thought. She felt for the artifact around her neck as something occurred to her. Could the metal beasts attacking Deep Cave be linked to it? Was this somehow her fault?

  Kara tried not to cry. So much was changing, all at once. She’d been told she was something called a scion, had the artifact forced upon her, then seen her friends die.

  And now... she was being chased by evil killers, having strange dreams and had even been forced to kill a man! Things were spinning out of control and she didn’t understand any of it. All she could do was run and pray she would survive.

  How much more could she take?

  It would’ve been impossible for her to endure it all if Aemon weren’t there helping her. She’d have been lost without him. The fact he was willing to risk his life for her—a mere courtesan and someone well below his social standing—still surprised her. Most nobles she’d met had been too self-absorbed in their own grandiosity to care about the likes of her.

  Aemon waited for her to catch up. “Hurry, we need to move.”

  She reached him, and he led her toward a hamlet near the city walls. There was no sign of the enemy on this side of the city but panicked people were everywhere. If the enemy tried to flank the city, the people would scramble over one another to escape.

  But where would they go?

  Aemon ducked as the enemy fired another projectile at the castle. “The city will not stand long against this,” he said, his voice almost lost to the crash of falling stone.

  Kara’s chest tightened, her breath coming fast. “What about the army? Surely they can find a way to save the city.”

  “According to the bank’s records, there are three thousand soldiers stationed in this cavern and half as many working directly for the two noble houses. Deep Cave is one of the more formidable cities in the caverns, but I do not think they will be able to stand up to the force arrayed against them. Whoever—or whatever—the enemy is, their weapons technology is beyond anything the Stelemian army possesses.”

  “But the army has to win. If they don’t... thousands will die.”

  They glanced at the city as a guard tower collapsed. A chunk of wall came down with it, sending dozens of defenders to their deaths.

  Kara flattened her mouth to a line. Aemon was right. The city would fall, and there was nothing the army could do to prevent it.

  When they neared the hamlet, another projectile flew over their heads. It smashed into the cavern wall near the entrance to the Limestone Caves. People still fleeing the tunnel fled in all directions as chunks of rock broke away from the wall and smashed to the ground around them.

  A dozen black-clad figures emerged from the tunnel, a wave of refugees fleeing before them. Fear buried itself in Kara’s heart. “We need to hide. Kahan is behind us. He must be the one driving everyone back to Deep Cave.”

  Aemon spun around and ran backward, near breathless from all the running. “I do not think he will see us. There are people everywhere.”

  Kara hoped he was right.

  They made it to the hamlet and Aemon led her toward an inn made of granite blocks, his chest heaving. “The innkeeper is one of the bank’s intelligence agents. If I tell him who I am, he might be able to help us. Assuming he has not fled already.”

  A crowd of frightened people were gathered outside the tavern and an old man dressed in bedraggled brown robes stood on a metal crate trying to get them to listen to him. His voice was hoarse, as if he’d been up there for hours shouting at people to heed him.

  When Kara walked past, he pointed down at her. “You must listen, girl. The time of the Prophecy of Ibilirith is upon us. The powerful have become corrupt, our defenses have weakened, and ancient vengeful spirits have returned to walk among us.” He gazed out at the besieged city and wept. “All of us who live in the Caverns will be but fuel for the flames of humanity’s final destruction. The end is here—it is here—and our flesh will be cast into iron and we will live no more.”

  Poor old man, Kara thought. The fighting must have driven him mad.

  Or had it?

  She gave Aemon a sidelong look. He knew much, yet he looked as bewildered as she did. Something Wrynric had said at the Golden Keg came back to her.

  “He saw you enlist the Metal Man’s help and later stand at the head of a great host and lead them against an Ancient Enemy...”

  Again, she touched the artifact
. Seeing what was happening to the city of Deep Cave made it easy to believe the end had come.

  They left the old man to his ranting and fought their way through the press of bodies into the tavern. Inside was almost as hectic as outside, with people standing shoulder to shoulder, some even on the tables. The room reeked of fear and strong drink, and the clamor of frightened voices almost drowned out the sounds of the battle.

  The plump innkeeper was busy packing bottles of fine ale and mushroom beer into boxes. Aemon approached him. “I work for the Royal Stelemian Bank. You report to my superior, Rubin Gamaston. I need you to tell me the way to Radashan Crevice.”

  “Go away,” the innkeeper snapped. “I’m leaving as soon as these bottles are packed, and you’re in the bloody way.”

  “Please—”

  The innkeeper shoved Aemon away, almost sending him to the floor. Aemon steadied himself on the edge of the bar and gave Kara a desperate look.

  There wasn’t time to waste. Kahan could appear at any moment.

  Kara slid off her hood, messed up her hair, then walked over and put her arms around the innkeeper and cried. With all that was happening, it wasn’t hard to get the tears to flow.

  The innkeeper tried to pry her arms open, but Kara held on tight and put on her best lost-little-girl act. No man could turn her away when she used that on him.

  “Please help me, my lord,” she begged in a soft, girly voice. “I need to find Radashan Crevice. My parents are waiting for me there.”

  His face was iron but it quickly softened. “Girl, you can see I’m busy. I can’t help you.”

  Kara buried her face into his apron and sobbed. “Please, my lord. I need to know how to get there. I don’t want to die.”

  His body deflated. “Fine, come with me.”

  He led her to a window and gestured toward a mushroom farm. “Go through those fields and you’ll come to a lake. When you reach it—” He pointed at a natural granite pillar to the left of the city, well away from the enemy horde and about four miles from the inn. “Head to that, and you’ll find the entrance to Radashan Crevice.”