The Chronotrace Sequence- The Complete Box Set

by D J Edwardson

  But the Welkin fought on, undaunted. Another half-dozen surged onto the platform, swinging desperately at the Waymen. Again, none of the blows connected. Three more Welkin fell, each pierced by a cruel shaft, one going straight through one of their shields, pinning it to his body in death. Other warriors collapsed to the ground, overwhelmed with vicious kicks and blows. One of them was hurled towards the back of the platform, his opponent casting him aside like an unwanted garment. He would have fallen off the edge if he hadn’t crashed against the metal railing. As it was, he pitched forward onto the floor and lay there, motionless.

  The number of Welkin continued to dwindle. Only about a dozen were left on the bridge now. Some used their shields to protect themselves from the flying shafts, but for every one they blocked, another got through. Adan was certain they would flee, but instead they let out a great cry and surged forward en masse onto the platform. Spreading out to form a line, they advanced, careful to stay behind their shields. Since half the Waymen were still at the back of the platforms, it looked like their attack might actually succeed. As the forward groups clashed, two of the enemy went down in quick succession and a large Welkin managed to wrap his thick arm around the neck of one of the shimmering enemies. Judging from his size, it had to be Malloc, but everything happened so quickly, it was difficult to be sure.

  Whoever it was, he probably would have dragged his enemy down if another Wayman had not rushed in to help. The newcomer punched the Welkin in the ribs and the big man staggered and let go of his opponent.

  The Wayman who came up was pulling back for another blow, but the large Welkin recovered and barreled into him, catching his opponent off guard and driving him into the ground with his shoulder. But by now, the other Wayman had recovered and together they were too much for their opponent. They soon had him pinned. One of them snatched a fero off the ground and delivered a jarring blow to the side of his head. The large warrior fell motionless to the platform.

  The other Welkin were faring no better. The two Waymen who had been knocked down were up again. Several Welkin lay sprawled on the platform in front of them. The Welkin were being pushed steadily back, fighting for their lives against opponents who were simply too strong and too quick.

  Why did the Welkin keep fighting? It was madness to continue against an enemy who was superior in every way. Not a single Wayman had fallen during the entire skirmish while only half a dozen Welkin remained standing.

  Adan had been told before the battle that his job would be to run back to Aldea and report if the fight was lost. He knew that moment must now be near. But as terrified as he was of this place, he did not want to leave. Will was out there somewhere and he couldn’t just abandon him.

  Cayo grabbed hold of Adan’s arm and pulled their little group in close. None of them bothered to hide the despair and anguish on their faces, they were wet from sweat and pale from fear. Cayo opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment, Jarem turned and pointed back up to the platform.

  “Look,” he whispered.

  There, near the back of the platform, three radiant forms lay on the ground, not moving. Adan expected them to rise at any moment, but they never did.

  As he watched, another of the bright men fell forward, this time with a shaft protruding from his back. Adan searched the scene to see who had thrown it, but before he could find out who it was, another Wayman fell, almost as if it were a repetition of what he had just witnessed. Was he seeing things? Was this just the stress and horror of the battle causing his mind to play tricks on him?

  It wasn’t until a few of the Waymen broke off from the others and turned towards the back of the platform that Adan finally saw who had thrown the shafts. A radiant warrior stood behind the others, a metal barb in his hand, poised to throw. Adan could not believe his eyes, but when the other Waymen rushed forward to confront him, he realized the death of the others must not have been an accident.

  The traitorous warrior let fly his final shaft into the gut of one of the oncoming Waymen, who tumbled to the ground. The victim’s fall was so awkward and unexpected that he tangled up some of the onrushing attackers as he went down. Two Waymen managed to avoid the mess and surged forward.

  The traitor had his back to the edge of the platform with nowhere to go. Instead of waiting for the attack to come to him, he rushed forward to meet it head on. He flung himself directly into the path of his adversaries, catching them by surprise. All three Waymen fell in a pile on the ground. In the ensuing tussle, it was impossible to differentiate between the combatants. They fought in a flickering blur of light.

  As they rolled, kicked, and bludgeoned each other, for a moment no one seemed to gain the upper hand. But the attackers who had stumbled during the initial charge soon recovered and fell into the mix. The struggle ended with one of the combatants pinned beneath the others. It had to be the traitor. The man struggled for a moment longer and then went still. The others abandoned his lifeless body and turned to finish off what was left of the Welkin.

  Adan could not imagine what had provoked this man to turn on his friends, but he had suffered the consequences of his betrayal. And with his death, any hope of defeating the Waymen seemed to die as well.

  During the struggle with the traitor, the Welkin had continued their hopeless fight on the fringes. Several more had fallen near the bridge, pierced by the deadly shafts. The rest lay at the feet of other Waymen. There was not a single Welkin left standing on the glowing central platforms.

  Once again, Adan looked to Cayo, expecting the command to run, but Cayo’s attention was still riveted on the center of the Basin. What was he waiting for? All the Welkin on the platform had been defeated; no one was getting back up. The Waymen had won.

  But the enemy had not let their guard down just yet; Adan must have missed something. Then Adan saw what Cayo was staring at—a lone Welkin remained on the bridge. He didn’t know how he had missed him before. He must have stopped short on the charge or retreated back at some point. For whatever reason, he stood there, motionless, gazing out across the fallen bodies of his friends. Adan wondered why he didn’t flee, or even more importantly, why the Waymen had not gone after him yet. But a moment later, that changed as two of the shining warriors turned and headed towards him.

  They had not gone far when someone grabbed them from behind. One of the Welkin rose up from among the fallen. The thick-chested man bore down on the two unsuspecting Waymen, bringing both to the ground. Adan was sure that it was Malloc this time. His booming battle cry echoed across the Basin.

  While Malloc wrestled with his two enemies, another fight broke out at the back of the platform. Two glimmering men were grappling near the railing. Realizing what was going on, two more Waymen rushed to join the fray. Adan could not believe there would be a second traitor in the group, but the two Waymen dragged each other down, fighting like bitter enemies. Which one was the traitor, Adan couldn’t say.

  Before the other Waymen could get in and break up the fight, one of the two combatants collapsed onto the ground, his head twisted at a terrible angle. Adan shuddered at the sight, a wave of nausea passing over him.

  The other Waymen descended on the survivor of the fight. They lunged at him together, but the traitor ducked and rolled to the side, letting the attackers slam into the railing.

  The renegade Wayman kipped up and jaunted back towards the center of the platform almost before the other two had turned around. They advanced on him once more, this time stalking methodically towards him, crouching low, not willing to let him use another quick maneuver to escape.

  The warriors Malloc jumped had recovered and wrestled him to the ground. He let out a strangled cry and collapsed back onto the platform. Adan doubted he would be getting back up this time, if he was even alive at all. Leaving the body of the Welkin leader, they turned and advanced towards the renegade Wayman.

  The traitor’s retreat had only served to buy him time. He now found himself trapped between two pairs of enemies.
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br />   He rushed toward the corner of the platform he had just escaped from. The two closest Waymen dove forward to finish him off. Instead of trying to dodge this time, the traitor did the unthinkable—he grabbed hold of both attackers and pulled them towards himself as he launched his body backwards into the railing. The combination of their momentum and the weight of all three bodies was enough to rip the railing from the slats and send the tangled mass of men and metal flying off the platform.

  There were no screams this time, but Adan turned away all the same, unwilling to let another image of death be etched into his mind. But his memory of the last fall came rushing back to him, forcing him to relive the same heart-rending emotions as before. His body began to sway, but this time Jarem grabbed him before he could fall. He and Cayo steadied Adan and the touch of their hands somehow gave him strength.

  The battle was not over. Adan held his breath as the last two Waymen headed towards the solitary Welkin still on the bridge.

  Once again, the figure made no move to attack or flee. Adan half wondered if he could even see the approaching Waymen, but it would have been impossible not to.

  As the Waymen advanced steadily towards the bridge, it seemed inevitable they would have their way with this Welkin, just as they had with the rest. But for all the agility they had displayed in battle, as they reached the edge of the platform, one of them inexplicably stumbled and listed to the side, catching himself on the railing. The bridge swayed, but his companion seemed not to care, giving the other Wayman no more than a passing glance as he continued forward. Only a few steps remained between him and the Welkin.

  The lone figure remained uncannily still. Even as the Wayman rushed forward, pulling back his arm to strike, the Welkin refused to move—seemingly oblivious as to what was about to happen.

  But the blow never landed. The Wayman’s arm was caught from behind by the one who had faltered. He righted himself at the last possible moment and shot up behind his companion, unnoticed. The traitor twisted the other man’s arm violently, causing him to arch backwards and fall to the ground. This last defector wrapped up his adversary so tight he could not get free. His victim rolled violently from side to side, trying to shake him off, but instead of trying to wrestle the last Wayman into submission, the traitor simply rolled along with him into the rope railing of the bridge. The cords snapped and, for the last time, two men plunged into the endless chasm, a pair of glittering lights swallowed by the darkness.

  Seventeen

  Somatarchs

  The sounds of battle faded. In their place, the low moans of the fallen echoed across the cavern. Dying and wounded, they lay scattered amongst the plank-work, a gruesome reminder of what had taken place.

  “Come, we go now,” Cayo said, pulling on Adan’s sleeve. “We have to tend to the wounded.”

  That word ‘wounded’ gave Adan some hope. Perhaps not all of the Welkin had been killed. And if so, he had to believe they would find Will amongst the survivors.

  “Halel, I have only one pouch of almamenth,” Cayo said. “That will not be enough. You go to Aldea. Bring as much as you can, and healers. Adan, Jarem—follow me.”

  Halel ran off down the passage without a word while Cayo and the others stepped onto a nearby walkway running along the cavern wall. They followed it until they reached another platform with two carts resting alongside it.

  “I’ll check the side bridges,” Jarem said. “Adan can come with me.”

  “But there are more warriors in the center,” Cayo said.

  “Yes, but they went down last. The men on the sides will be the ones closest to death,” Jarem said.

  “Okay,” Cayo agreed. “I’ll go to the near bridges, then. You and Adan check the far ones. I need to see if Malloc is alive. I can use his pouch of almamenth, so you take mine.”

  Jarem grabbed the bundle Cayo offered him and jumped into the cart on the left. Cayo rushed over to the one on the right. Adan hesitated. He looked at Jarem’s dilapidated cart and was tempted to stay where he was. But the moans drifting across the cavern reminded him that they needed to hurry. Ignoring the looming chasm below and the rush of dizziness, he stepped onto the swaying cart, clinging desperately to the central pole as it ambled away from the platform.

  This second trip was not nearly as harrowing as the first. Adan’s desire to find Will and help the others was stronger than even his fears of the stretching emptiness below.

  By the time they were about halfway across the cavern, he noticed another cart moving towards the same platform they were heading to. A single figure rode inside, but it wasn’t Cayo; his cart was far away, in the center of the cavern. This one was traveling through a heavily shadowed area and, without the benefit of the lentes, Adan doubted anyone else could have seen it. For a moment, panic set in as he wondered if one of the Waymen had somehow survived the battle. But the stranger’s clothes were not glowing, and as he got closer, Adan saw that it must be the lone Welkin, the one who had been standing on the bridge at the end.

  All of a sudden Adan remembered the other function of the lentes: to bring things closer. He had completely forgotten about this during the battle when it would have allowed him to see what was going on more clearly. Then again, perhaps it was just as well. What he had seen had been terrible enough.

  Keeping one arm wrapped tightly around the pole, he managed to steady his shaking finger enough to slide it along the circular lens. A moment later, he found himself staring directly into the face of the man in the cart.

  “Look, Jarem, it’s—” Adan began, but Jarem clamped a hand over Adan’s mouth.

  “I know,” he whispered. “He told me to bring you this way after the battle. But keep quiet. It’s best that no one else know what we’re doing.”

  Adan nodded. In the midst of the fighting he had completely forgotten about Will’s problems with the old ones and the heated discussion back in Senya’s home.

  The other cart arrived well ahead of theirs and the figure melted into the shadows and waited. When at last their own contraption bounced against the edge of the platform, Adan could see up close the same thing the lentes had shown him from afar. He ran to Will.

  “You’re alive!”

  “Of course I am, compa,” Will said, rapping him on the shoulder. “Did you doubt me?”

  “But everyone else was killed or wounded. How did you—”

  “I’ll tell you about it later. Right now, we’ve got to go.”

  Jarem hugged Will. “I knew you would save us,” he said.

  “I did what I could, Jarem. Now listen to what I have to say very carefully,” Will said in hushed tones. “I need you to tell Mendigo something for me. This is very important.” He paused, studying Jarem’s face. “Tell Mendigo that those were not Waymen—they were somatarchs. He’ll know what I’m talking about, okay? Somatarchs. Can I trust you to remember that?”

  Jarem seemed confused, but he nodded anyway, “All right. Soma-tarchs. I’ll tell him.”

  “And make sure not all the bodies are thrown below. Mendigo will need to examine them.”

  “But what about the wounded?” Adan asked, glancing at the central platforms. The light from them was beginning to fade, but he could still see the dark form of Cayo as he moved amongst the fallen.

  Will handed Jarem his container of almamenth. “Take this. I wish we could stay and help, but we can’t risk getting captured again.”

  “But you proved yourself. You fought against the Waymen—didn’t you?” Adan asked. It occurred to him that he hadn’t actually seen Will fight. For all he knew, he might have been standing on the bridge the whole time.

  “Even if they did forgive me, I can’t go back—not yet.”

  Adan cast an uneasy glance at the wounded Welkin. He hoped Will knew what he was doing.

  “Okay, but what about the shifter? Will we be able to survive in the Vast without it?”

  Jarem pulled out a canvas bag and a small sack. “Here’s a water pouch and some sere powder. It�
�s all I could manage; we left the hogar so quickly.”

  “It’s okay. I found something else,” Will said. He stepped over to the shadows and came back a moment later with a bundle of pouches.

  “The somatarchs carry a special kind of food called viand. These pouches are full of it. We’ll have enough to last us for more than awhile.”

  “I wish you didn’t have to go,” Jarem said.

  “So do I, but there are other things I have to do before I can come back again.” Will handed some of the pouches to Adan and hung the rest on his belt. “We’ve wasted too much time already. Jarem, you need to go help the wounded.”

  Jarem nodded, fighting back tears as the two embraced once more.

  “I’ll come back, I promise,” Will said.

  Then Jarem said something in the Welkin tongue, trying his best to smile through his tears. Adan could not understand it, but the look of admiration on Jarem’s face said more than perhaps any words ever could.

  Will nodded, and Jarem stepped over and quietly embraced Adan. He could feel Jarem’s slender frame shaking with emotion in his arms.

  “May Numinae guide you,” Jarem whispered.

  Then Adan and Will turned and left, disappearing into the tunnels of the Viscera and leaving the glimmering cavern behind them. But with the way sounds carried through the tunnels, it was a long time before the moaning of the dying and wounded Welkin could no longer be heard.

  It was pitch-black by the time they finally scrambled out of the gorge leading out of the Viscera. Navigating the craggy slopes, Adan had slipped several times. He kept feeling like he was going to fall, but with a great deal of help from Will he had clambered his way back up to the surface.

  The light from the lentes was weaker now, but they could still see well enough to make their way across the endless sands. The winds welcomed them back to the surface with their malevolent howling. They only got worse as the journey wore on, blustering into just short of a full-blown storm.