Heir to a Lost Sun: A Caverns of Stelemia Novel

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Heir to a Lost Sun: A Caverns of Stelemia Novel Page 14

by Riley Morrison


  Many an explorer had climbed the slick rocks beside the waterfall in search of heaven. For it was here that mortal Lydan, Roryur, Ibilirith and Dwaycar had ascended to godhood. Almost all of the would-be divines fell screaming to their deaths, but a handful made it to the top and entered the black void high above.

  None were ever seen again.

  That did not stop more fools from attempting the climb. After all, if the river flowed from heaven, those who braved the ascent stood a chance of becoming divines themselves. People had thrown away their lives for far less.

  They were showered in water as the road ran beside the pool at the base of the waterfall. From below, the wall of water looked infinite, as if it truly did flow down from heaven. If only they had time to stop and take it all in.

  When the waterfall was behind them, the path continued to steadily rise until it reached the end of the crevice and entered a narrow tunnel. Sacred lights lit the tunnel and thick power cables ran along its roof. Those cables had long fed Deep Cave with electricity, but now they ran to a ruined city and a sacred crevice that would soon fall to the same darkness.

  Aemon ran his hand along the wall, and a sudden wave of melancholy made him lower his head. Humans had carved this tunnel, no doubt about it. The work it must have taken to excavate it through miles of solid rock... He let out a long, weary sigh. Much of the great works of the past were now forgotten or unappreciated.

  Nothing like this tunnel, nor the work undertaken to flatten the road in the Limestone Caves, was even attempted anymore. From the Priest King down, the powers in the Caverns were corrupt, decadent, self-serving, violent and increasingly—according to the bank’s intelligence reports—irrational.

  The destruction of Deep Cave and the appearance of the mysterious enemy who destroyed it should have been a warning cry for all Stelemia that things were on the precipice of great change. People should have looked around and seen how stagnant Stelemian society had become. A civilization living off the glories and technologies of the past, slowly losing its grip on both as the years rolled by.

  But it would not wake them.

  The bank and those who owned it would seek ways to profit from the arrival of the new enemy. The Priest King would placate the noble houses in the Capital Spire with flowery words while sending his trusted right hand, Lord Laython, to deal with the troubles so the people in the Capital could pretend things were normal. The Inquisitors would root out those who questioned the authorities and put them on trial for heresy—thus ensuring nothing tangible would be done until it was too late.

  Aemon ground his teeth. To the Great Dark with the lot of them.

  WHEN THEY EMERGED FROM the tunnel it felt as if they had gone from one realm into another. Unlike Radashan Crevice, the Rift was dimly lit and devoid of beauty. The path was cut into the sheer sides of the chasm, with no guardrails to prevent anyone from falling over the edge.

  A deep silence wafted from the darkness below, leaving Aemon’s stomach unsettled. He had heard stories of people seeing and hearing things here, even voices telling them to leap over the edge.

  “This is the Rift,” Aemon said. “The Rift Gate should not be far.”

  Kara peeked into the chasm, then quickly withdrew. “I don’t like this place. It feels like something is down there watching us.”

  Aemon grimaced as a sharp throb shot up his wounded arm. “Everyone who visits feels unnerved by the darkness. The Order of Ibilirith believes the ancient enemy the divines fought in heaven was cast down into this chasm and that they still sleep down there, to this day.”

  Kara gripped the artifact and shuddered.

  The path led to a stone bridge spanning the chasm. It was twenty feet wide and a hundred feet long and looked strong enough for an army to march over it. At the far end of the bridge stood the magnificent gold-and-platinum Rift Gate. On the gate, a pictograph depicted proud Lydan towering over a battlefield during the War in Heaven.

  A detachment of pike-men stood before the gate and watched the approaching refugees warily. Like the path, the bridge lacked side rails, and calamity would ensue if the guards did not let the refugees pass. The people still coming up from Radashan Crevice would undoubtedly continue pushing forward, bunching everyone up on the bridge until people started falling over the sides.

  When Aemon and Kara neared the bridge, they saw the front ranks of refugees arguing with the guards. Aemon stopped to wait until the gate opened, but Kara dragged him forward. “We need to get to the front,” she said as she walked onto the narrow gap at the side of the bridge. “I hope you’re not afraid of heights.”

  Aemon tried not to look over the edge as they made their way toward the gate. People jostled them as someone tried to force their way to the front. Kara was knocked right to the edge, teetering there. Aemon’s muscles clenched. If she fell, she would take him with her!

  He grabbed the teenage girl beside him and tried to drag Kara back, but a man stumbled into the teen and she and Aemon were knocked down. In panic, Aemon accidentally let go of Kara and lost sight of her. His heart leapt into his throat as he hauled himself back to his feet.

  Kara was no longer there.

  He could only gape at where she had been. He had lost her. Lost her when they were closing in on the temple. It was my fault. I should have been braver. Stronger! I should not have led her here.

  Distantly, he felt someone shaking him but he had no interest in seeing who it was. They probably wanted him to get out of their way. But what was the point? Kara was gone and he had lost everything.

  Kara’s face suddenly appeared before his. Was it a figment? He blinked, slowly coming back to his senses. “Kara... is that—”

  She pulled him away from the edge. “Yes, a man grabbed me before I fell. We need to move.”

  He followed her, still struggling to believe she was there. The Shield of Heaven must have been watching over her. They neared the front of the column and discovered why the Rift Gate had yet to open.

  “For the third time, what in Roryur’s name is all this about?” the guard captain standing before it demanded with an indignant scowl, ramming the butt end of his pike into the ground. “What are vile, smelly, no-good peasants doing walking the sacred crevice? The captain at Deep Cave was ordered to let none but the most prestigious citizens through.”

  “We’ve told you already. Deep Cave’s been destroyed by metal beasts,” someone cried. “The tunnel leading to the capital was cut off, so we were forced to flee through the crevice of the divines.”

  Aemon and Kara managed to get to the front row, holding those beside them to make sure they would not be accidentally knocked over the edge. When the guard captain saw what Kara wore, he looked her up and down. “Where did you come from, eh? You are no peasant knave. What is with that light around your neck?”

  Kara stared at the captain. Her mouth moved but no words came out. Aemon wondered how she was meant to answer that.

  “Bah, it does not matter, girl.” The captain stood on his toes to watch the long column of refugees. “How many people are bloody coming?”

  “Thousands,” someone replied.

  “Thousands! We cannot allow thousands of people through. Jalarfed is small; it cannot feed or house that many mouths and we do not have enough guards to prevent looting.”

  “Soon you will not have a choice but to let us through,” Aemon said. “If you bar us entry, the surge of bodies coming up behind us will push us all over the edge.”

  Kara suddenly dug her nails into his arm, close to the bite wound. He gritted his teeth.

  “What is it?”

  “Kahan! He’s almost on the bridge.”

  Aemon spun around. Kahan stood on the opposite side of the span and stared right at Kara. All that stood between him and her were a few hundred fearful refugees. The black-clad killer stepped onto the bridge, making his way along the edge like Kara and Aemon had. Three of Kahan’s companions followed him.

  “Scion, stay where you are,” he s
houted. “You know not what you will unleash if you go on.”

  “Sir, you must let us through,” Kara begged. “Those people in black crossing the bridge are trying to kill me.”

  The captain scratched at his beard. “Kill you?”

  “Yes. Please—please, let us pass.”

  He looked like he wanted to argue but a cry from one of the pike-men made him turn away. “Sir, that woman in black over there just threw someone off the bridge.”

  People cried out as they tried to get out of Kahan’s way. The black-clad woman beside him shoved a young man off the bridge. His scream rapidly faded to nothing. She started running, shoving more people aside. Kahan was a step behind her, a short sword in each hand.

  The black-clad woman raised a javelin. “Half-blood, don’t move. I’m done chasing you.”

  “Stop,” the guard captain ordered, but Kahan and his followers ran on. “Curse it all. Open the gate, lads. Let them through.”

  “Please sir, arrest the people in black. Don’t let them get me,” Kara begged the officer as she passed him.

  The captain lowered his pike. “Don’t worry girl. We’ll—” He was shoved out of the way by one of his men who held up a shield.

  Thunk.

  “By the divines,” the captain exclaimed, glaring at the javelin lodged in the shield. “That woman is trying to kill us.”

  The soldiers started toward Kahan. Aemon took Kara’s arm. “Time to go.”

  Chapter 9

  KARA

  They fled through the Rift Gate into the crossroad town of Jalarfed. There wasn’t a moment to spare to look around; Kahan was just behind them and Kara wasn’t holding out hope the guards could stop him. Somehow, that murderer had followed her all the way from the capital.

  Why couldn’t he just leave her alone?

  She glanced at Aemon who ran panting beside her. “Do you know the way to the temple from here?”

  “We should reach a crossroads soon,” he replied between breaths. “There is a statue there that will point us in the right direction.”

  Aemon appeared close to collapse and seemed to struggle under the weight of his bags. Working at the bank probably didn’t require him to be fit. Kara on the other hand had grown up lifting sacks of food and kegs of ale. She was strong, though exhaustion had begun to wear her down too.

  Both had been awake for over a day, all of it on foot. They’d run, been pushed and shoved and, in Aemon’s case, bitten. She’d almost died back at the River of the Gods and even now could taste the bile from all the retching she’d done.

  If they didn’t reach their destination soon they’d both be too tired to go on. Then Kahan would catch them. Kara gritted her teeth and willed herself forward. Nothing would stop her from getting to the temple.

  Screams of pain and the clash of swords echoed from behind them. Kara cursed. Kahan must’ve been attempting to force his way through the Rift Gate.

  Residents came out of their brightly lit homes and watched Kara and Aemon speed by. Some asked what was happening, but they couldn’t spare the time to stop and explain so the two ran on.

  As they passed a burly, bald man, he grabbed Aemon by the arm. “Here now,” he grunted, almost wrenched off his feet by Aemon’s momentum.

  “Let me go.” Aemon fought to break free. “What are you doing?”

  Kara slid to a stop, breath coming fast. The man pulled Aemon closer. “What’s going on, boy? What’s with the fighting back there?”

  “Let him go,” Kara screamed.

  The man blinked. “I just want to know what’s happening. No need for anger.”

  Some of the residents from the town were approaching, asking the same question. She and Aemon didn’t have time for this.

  Drawing her knife, Kara tensed her muscles, her senses heightening. She felt a sudden, unexpected desire to kill the man holding Aemon. Sneering, she circled around to get behind him.

  He deserves to die, she told herself. He’s holding us up.

  “What are you doing?” the man asked, eyes on Kara’s weapon. “Are you gonna stab me with that thing, girl?”

  “Let him go or I’ll kill you.”

  The bald man held Aemon before him as a human shield. “Put it down before you hurt someone.” He pleaded with some of the onlookers, “Get the guards, this woman is crazy.”

  Two of the bystanders walked toward Kara, arms stretched out to subdue her. She bared her teeth. “Go away or I’ll kill all of you.”

  The men stopped and watched her warily.

  “Hurry, get the guards,” the bald man insisted.

  A murderous haze descended over Kara. She charged at the man holding Aemon. “I’m going to bloody gut you!”

  Shrieking in terror, the bald man shoved Aemon toward her. Kara sidestepped, and Aemon flew past her. The man backed away hurriedly. He was speaking, but Kara wasn’t listening to what he said. The swine will die for getting in my way.

  She held the knife over her shoulder, ready to plunge it into his neck. Rage made the world around her burn away.

  Someone grabbed her wrist. “Kara, you do not have to do this. We can go.”

  She fought to free herself from the grip. The bald man was right in front of her!

  “Stop. Please, Kara.”

  She knew that voice. Her eyes blinked rapidly, her brain feeling like it was rolling around in her head. Then the searing rage ebbed away, leaving behind a giddiness in its wake. She staggered slightly, unsteady on her feet, the artifact so hot it burned.

  The hand steadied her. She slowly lowered the knife. “Aemon?”

  “Yes. Are you all right?” Aemon’s voice sounded jittery. There was fear in his eyes, and it seemed to be of her.

  “I think... so, yes.”

  “Thank the divines.” He studied her closely. “We need to keep going. Are you up to it?”

  Kara looked around, dazed. Dozens of onlookers were watching her, some angry, others afraid. Then it hit her what she’d done. More terrified than embarrassed, she put the knife away and tried to cover her face and the artifact glowing under her gown. The artifact glowed bright, but it no longer burned her.

  What is happening to me?

  She’d frightened Aemon and the onlookers. Never in her life had anyone been afraid of her. She made people happy, made them laugh and want to touch her. The powerful anger had come on so unexpectedly. She’d never been so enraged before. It almost felt like she’d lost herself somehow, like something else had taken control.

  Veladan had deserved his fate. The man at Radashan Crevice had, too. But the bald man... he had only wanted to know what was happening. He hadn’t hurt anyone. She sobbed. What if something like this happened again?

  The people made no move to intervene as Aemon led her away. Their gazes burned into Kara’s back, even after they’d disappeared around a bend in the road.

  Minutes later, Kara and Aemon reached the crossroads. They stopped to catch their breath under a four-armed statue. The statue had the body of a naked woman with a head that resembled the serpent at the royal zoo Kara had visited as a child.

  Aemon grimaced, then said, “I do not know what happened to you back there. Is it really over now?”

  Kara’s mind felt strangely calm, the rage a distant memory. “I think so. Yes. It came on so suddenly... I barely knew what I was doing.”

  Aemon stared at the hand she had clasped around the artifact. Kara gave her best reassuring smile, as much for him as for her. The rage and giddiness might be gone but the fear they’d brought with them remained. Fear of herself and what she might do.

  She let her smile fade. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be alright. What way do we go from here?”

  Aemon turned to examine the statue. “Give me a moment.”

  Kara played with the hem of her gown and kept an eye out for Kahan. The only people she could see were residents of Jalarfed and none of them were close. Not letting her guard down, she studied the settlement.

  There wasn’t
much to the town. Just a cluster of houses, a warehouse and a small tavern, all carved out of the rock lining the road. The sacred lights hanging from overhead wires that lit Jalarfed were barely enough to hold back the cavernous void of darkness above it. Kara couldn’t tell how high the ceiling was because, unlike in the larger caverns like Deep Cave or Stelemia, the phosphorescent bacterial colonies were absent here.

  Aemon pointed toward a well-lit tunnel. “The temple is eight miles that way.”

  They set off again, the sound of battle fading into the distance. A mile along the passage they found an old man dressed in the brown robes of the Order. He rocked back and forth on his knees before a copper shrine forged into the shape of a giant cog. When they tried to speak to him, they noticed his eyes were half open, as if he were in a trance. He said nothing, and continued to rock.

  They left him and continued toward the temple. As Kara ran, near collapsing from exhaustion, she turned her thoughts to Aemon. He’d been so good to her, even after losing his best friend and his position at the bank.

  She’d never met a noble as selfless as him, a man willing to risk everything for a woman—a mere commoner he barely knew.

  But why was he doing it? Was it her pretty face? He clearly was infatuated with her. There’d been no shortage of men like that in her life but none would have stood by her in a situation as dire as she faced now.

  Yet Aemon had.

  No, there was more to his motivation than lust. She pondered on that for the better part of a mile. Perhaps it had something to do with his work at the bank. From what he’d said, the bankers were evil and conniving. Yet it was difficult for her to picture Aemon being that way. Did he take up her quest to atone for the sins he’d committed while working for the bank? She could imagine him doing that.

  Whatever his motivation, she couldn’t have asked for a better companion, especially when there was no going back for either of them.

  A pain somewhere deep inside made Kara clench her fingers around the artifact. When they got to the temple she’d tell Aemon they needed to go their separate ways. What was the point of him continuing to risk his life for her? The Order would protect her and give her the answers she sought. With the leftover silver, he could start a new life somewhere. He had the brains and could read and write, which was more than most could claim.

 

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