by CM Raymond
CONTENTS
Dedication
Legal
Map
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Epilogue
Notes LE Barbant
Notes CM Raymond
Notes Michael Anderle
Social Links MA
Series List
Series List MA
DEDICATION
To Family, Friends and
Those Who Love
To Read.
May We All Enjoy Grace
To Live The Life We Are
Called.
Darkness Rises
JIT Beta Readers
Kimberly Boyer
Kelly ODonnell
John Findlay
Peter Manis
Joshua Ahles
Paul Westman
James Caplan
John Raisor
Tim Bischoff
If we missed anyone, please let us know!
Editor
Lynne Stiegler
Darkness Rises (this book) is a work of fiction.
All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.
Copyright © 2017 CM Raymond, LE Barbant and Michael T. Anderle
Cover by Mihaela Voicu http://mihaela-voicu.squarespace.com/
Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing
LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
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First US edition, September 2017
The Kurtherian Gambit (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds) are copyright © 2017 by Michael T. Anderle.
CHAPTER ONE
Ezekiel and Laurel stood back to back on the highest point of the ship. Their eyes glowed—his red, hers a dark green—with the power of the magic alive beneath their skin. It was the only thing Parker could make out through the dense clouds the magicians were creating all around them. Low-hanging cumulus, dark and raging. Perfect cover for their approach.
“Damn,” Parker said. “They’re good.”
“Aye,” Karl grunted, leaning against the rail of the Unlawful as the turbulence rattled it. “The clouds are nice enough. I just wish there was less wind.”
The Unlawful drifted along, the magical cloud preventing any on the ground from noticing. The Bitch and Bastard Brigade had spent the last several days airborne, putting considerable distance between them and their little vacation in Baseek. They were moving east, getting ever closer to the Oracle and the mysterious battle Ezekiel had warned them about. Time was of the essence, Parker knew. But he also knew Hannah.
Even though the fate of the world was at stake, she would always make time to right a wrong—especially an injustice done to one of her friends. And that was exactly where the Unlawful was now, floating above a slight detour.
It was another opportunity for Hannah to exercise her own brand of justice.
Karl swiped a hand across his leathers and pushed water off himself. He grumbled as he shook the condensation off his hand. “It could be a little less soggy as well. Might just head below for a bit, keep me britches dry. That is, if I can find me damned way across the deck.”
Parker nodded toward the rearick, but he wasn’t listening to the old warrior’s grumbling. The clouds were thick, visibility nearly zero, but still he stared in the direction of solid ground. His heart thumped faster than Sal’s tail when there was kaffe brewing. The dragon was sitting on the other side of the ship, also staring down into the darkness.
“She’s going to be all right,” he muttered.
“Hannah?” Karl asked. “Course she is. She’s tough as shit and mean as nails.”
Laurel called from the soup several feet away, “I think you mean that the other way around, little guy!”
“Focus,” Ezekiel said firmly. “Need to make sure the cover doesn’t break.”
She sighed, then turned back toward their work. Although Parker wasn’t a magic user, he’d spent enough time around them to know what was happening. Laurel was a druid—a nature magician—and while her fighting skills were top notch, there were some serious gaps in her magical education. Gaps that Ezekiel had been trying to fill.
The two of them had been practicing storm magic for days, with little success.
Controlling the weather was something only the strongest druids could do, and Laurel was far from the best. But the old man kept pushing her to work harder, to unlock her potential. Ezekiel had told her about the Storm Callers, a strange group of magicians who lived far north of Arcadia and specialized in controlling the weather. As hard as it was for Parker to believe, these storm wizards were apparently greater than Ezekiel when it came to this particular form of magic.
“Dammit, Laurel, I said focus,” the old man bellowed as Laurel stuck out her tongue to try and catch a drop of water. “I swear, you’re an even worse student than Hannah.”
Parker sighed, thinking about her. Hannah had only been gone for a few hours—all part of her master plan—but it didn’t change his level of anxiety. They had spent years hustling together in the Boulevard. She had been one tough smartass even then. But he’d never stopped worrying about her when they split up to do a con, or when he dropped her at her father’s house at the end of a long day.
That Hannah was no more.
Now she was the Chancellor’s bane. The terror on the beach of Baseek. Chosen by the Founder to save the Oracle.
She was a damn legend.
Parker laughed, then turned back to the rearick. “You’re right. It’s freaking Hannah. What could possibly go wrong?”
Karl nodded. “Long as the lass does what she’s ‘sposed ta, everything’ll be just fine.”
“Yeah, Hannah never breaks the rules,” Laurel yelled from her stormcalling position. She laughed as Ezekiel berated her to pay attention once again.
This time everyone except for Parker enjoyed a laugh, thinking of their leader and her propensity for playing outside the box.
Decisions like that often ended with blood on her hands and on the street.
“Shit. Hannah...” Parker said as he started pacing the deck. Be careful down there.
****
A field of stars illuminated the ink-black sky. They stretched as far as Hannah could see in every directio
n.
Every direction except one.
A giant cloud filled the otherwise clear night, blocking all light from passing through it. She smiled, thinking of her friends waiting faithfully above her.
Pushing through the darkness, she moved toward the giant rock face she knew loomed ahead. She had first seen it during daylight from the bridge of Unlawful. Now she relied on her memory to guide her there.
Uncertain how tight security might be, Hannah had decided it was best to teleport down some distance from her target. That way she could approach on foot, undetected. Parker had put up a fuss about the danger she would be in, but he couldn’t disagree with her logic.
“Besides,” she had argued. “It’s exactly the kind of plan you would come up with.”
A voice broke through the perfect silence of the night, and she knew she had arrived.
“Shut yer faces or you’ll find my boot up yer ass!” The man’s voice was gruff and hoarse, and his command was accompanied by the crack of a whip.
Hannah closed her eyes to hide the glowing red as she focused her mental energy in the direction of the voice. She could sense the guard’s mind. It was furious, uncomfortable with his situation. Around him, she could sense dozens of others. Most of them were asleep, but a few simply laid still, anxious for the rest that eluded them.
Hannah shifted her mental energy away from them and toward the sky. I’m here.
What’s it look like? Hadley responded.
Hannah smiled, holding in a laugh. Looks like pitch-black. Probably the same as you have up there. How’re Zeke and Laurel holding up?
There was silence for a moment, and Hannah held her breath. Ezekiel was strong, and calling the cover of a cloud wasn’t exactly complex magic. But still, if something went wrong and the guardsmen on the ground happened to notice a flying ship in the air, things could go sideways fast. She thanked the Matriarch for the cover of darkness before glancing over her shoulder to the east to see the horizon start to lighten.
She didn’t have much cover left. Before long, the moon would be up.
They’re doing fine, Hadley sent. Laurel is stronger than we knew. But Gregory needs you to get your ass back up here ASAP.
What’s wrong? she asked.
He’s afraid that with you gone, Laurel’s going to try to feed Sal her kaffe in the morning.
Hannah smiled. She wished the rest of the Bitch and Bastard Brigade were with her, but lives were at stake. Odds were the mission would require violence, but if she could use stealth instead, she just might be able to save some innocent lives.
Keep an eye on her for me, will you? And two on Sal.
Will do, Captain. Be safe down there, Hadley said in her mind.
I’m always—
Hadley cut her off. You can’t lie to me, remember? Just try not to burn everything down as you go.
She rolled her eyes as Hadley’s voice faded from her mind. Returning her focus to the task at hand, she crept forward, angling toward the gruff voice. She stumbled across a heavy stand of bushes with a pinprick light of a fire seeping through. She placed her hand on a branch and asked the shrub to let her through.
Nothing happened.
That’s weird, she thought.
She tried again, adding urgency to her request, and finally the plant responded. It parted quietly, allowing her silent access to the other side. She nodded her thanks, then moved forward.
“Where you at, you bastard?” she whispered from where she crouched.
The woods opened to an enormous field. No more than fifty feet away, a figure sat by the fire with metal on his lap, catching the light. A sword. She hoped he didn’t know how to use it. She did, however, hope he was an expert with that giant jug of mead by his side.
He was positioned on top of a slight hill. As she watched, he rose to his feet and shouted something down the other side. Apparently that was where his prisoners were kept.
The guard sat back down and took a long slug from his drink.
Hannah took a deep breath. Well, here goes nothing.
She rose to her feet and started walking toward him, whistling a children’s song she had learned in the Boulevard.
Head snapping up, the guard’s eyes narrowed, trying to see who was approaching.
“No need to get up for me.” Hannah laughed. “At least not yet.”
The man shot to his feet, his sword stuck out in her direction. “Who’s there? You’d better not take another step””
She glanced down at it, and then back at him. “Whoa, there, soldier boy. Is that a threat, or are you just excited to see me?”
She stepped closer, biting her lip.
He rubbed his chin with his free hand, trying to figure out just what the hell was going on. “Who’re you?”
“I’m your surprise.” Hannah undid the button on her outer cloak and let it drop to the ground. “New to the camp. The boss just brought me in, told me I was to keep you company.” She glanced at the sword again, then stuck out her bottom lip in a pouty way. “Unless, of course, you prefer keeping yourself warm at night.”
The man slowly examined her body. She fought the urge to shudder and the even greater urge to gouge his eyes out and feed them to him.
Then she remembered the sound of him beating his prisoners. Maybe she’d feed him something else before this was all over.
“Is that right?” The man sneered. “’Bout time I got treated right. Out here with all this worthless scum every night. Glad old Pislik finally recognized my hard work.”
Hannah snorted a laugh, then covered her mouth with her hand.
The man crinkled his face.
“Sorry to spoil the mood,” she said, “but Pislik is a funny name, you have to admit. Now, back to the more important matter at hand.”
She stepped closer and could smell the mix of cheap booze and years of tooth rot on his breath. Doing all she could to hold in her revulsion, she placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled. “Tell me more about your hard work.”
“Why don’t I show you?” he said, reaching his hand toward her.
Hannah nearly pulled her knife then and there, but she held back. She needed to get some information first.
Instead, she dodged his hand and stepped back teasingly. “Not so fast. I want to make sure we’re alone first.” She looked around the campfire. “None of your friends are hiding in those trees, right?”
With a grin, he said, “What’s the matter? You shy?”
She wagged a finger in the air and gave a wicked smile, though she really wanted to vomit on his boots. “You could say that.”
“Good thing,” he said. “Ain’t nobody here but me and the cattle.” He motioned with his head down the hill. Hannah couldn’t see anyone, but she imagined the people chained together. “And there ain’t another guard up at this hour for a mile or more.”
Hannah cooed, “Ooh, a mile? Well, they must be at the—”
“Entrance. That’s right. Way over there in their sweet-ass beds at the mouth of the mine. And here I am, stuck out here guarding pig shit.”
“Then I have you all to myself, and they’ll never hear you scream.”
He nodded and licked his blistery lips. “That’s right.”
“So, you ready to scream, soldier boy?”
He reached for his belt, nodding like a fool. “Uh huh.”
“Good. Time for some foreplay.”
Hannah reached gingerly toward him, then grabbed his cloak with two hands and drove her knee into his crotch.
The man bent in half as he grabbed his nuts. She took the opportunity to drop an elbow on the back of his neck.
“Too damn easy,” she said as he hit the ground. For good measure, she gave him a light kick to the ribs. “Roll over and look at me.”
The man complied, his face twisted in pain. “What the hell, you bitch!”
Hannah shook her head. “Tsk, tsk, tsk.” She made the sound low. “If anything, it’s Princess Bitch, to you. But I’m not quite comfor
table with that title yet.” She crouched to his level. “Let’s have a little talk, shall we?”
“I’m never—”
She punched him in the face before he could finish, shaking out the sting in her hand.
“Let’s skip that part. I’ve done it way too many freaking times. Why don’t you save us both some stress and just spill your guts? Otherwise, I’ll have to spill them for you. How many men are up there at the mines?”
“Screw you, you litt—”
Another punch to the face silenced him.
“Listen,” Hannah whispered, “my knuckles are stinging now, so I’m not going to punch you again. Next one is either the cold edge of my dagger or something a little more creative. I haven’t decided yet. How many men?”
He glanced at his sword, which was just barely out of reach, and then back at Hannah. She shook her head at him.
“OK.” He sighed. “Fifty or so, depending who has been sent back to the village. They’re armed, so if you’re planning something, you’re screwed.”
“Like you thought you were tonight?” she asked with a raised brow. “How quickly things can change.”
“Damn straight,” he spat as he rolled for his sword. He grabbed the hilt and raised it toward her, but the blade drooped in his hand like a loaf of soggy bread.
He looked down at the slack metal, then back up at Hannah.
He jumped when he saw the blood-red glow of her eyes.
“Wow. You can’t get it up even when your life depends on it.”
He opened his mouth to scream, but Hannah’s knife filled it before he could utter a sound. The gurgling sound of him choking on his own blood wasn’t even loud enough to drown out the crackling of the fire.
“Damn it,” she said as she sat next to him and warmed her hands by the fire. “I should have had him dig his own grave first. Gotta remember that next time. Now I have to hide the body.”
