Borne Rising

by Matthew Callahan

  “Jesus, I must have really pissed you off,” he said.

  Ileta cocked her head to the side then flung the noctori down toward him. Madigan stifled a cry and braced himself for the impact, but the blade winked out of existence just before making contact. He let out a deep breath of relief, then looked back up. Ileta was standing with her hands on her hips and seemed to be wrestling internally with something.

  “My master wishes to meet you.”

  This, like everything else in the past few moments, caught Madigan completely by surprise. He stared at Ileta and thought back to what Will had said. He thought back to Valmont’s finding them in Cascania and the man’s appearance in the Nordoth. “I think we’re already acquainted,” he grunted.

  Ileta sniffed in disdain, considered a moment, then knelt and extended her hand. “Just get your ass back up here. We need to talk.”

  She could have killed me at any time in the past few minutes, Mad considered. Hell, she could have killed me anytime in the past few years. He stared at the outstretched hand for a moment, then reached out and grabbed it with his own. He kicked off the fortress and Ileta hoisted him back into the room. His feet had barely touched level ground before she was speaking in a low whisper.

  “I’m disappointed.”

  “So I was right then,” he responded dryly. “You’re not subtle.”

  Ileta turned away from him and strode to the center of the room. She reached for a bottle of wine, unstopped the cork with her teeth, and poured the contents into a single glass. She perched on the armrest of a chair and took a sip. She raised an eyebrow. “My, my, aren’t we enjoying the finer things with our new station.”

  Mad stiffened. Of course. “I take it you’ve heard, then.”

  “Everyone has heard, you idiot. I leave you unwatched for the briefest of moments and you go declaring your allegiance to the Crow?” She shook her head and took another sip. “I knew you were rash, but I didn’t know you were stupid.”

  Mad’s eyes flitted to the bed where Ynarra still lay. “He didn’t exactly give me much of a choice.”

  Ileta set her mouth in a thin line. “I expected more from you.”

  “And like you said, I disappointed you.”

  “Do you think this was why I trained you?” She held out a hand and gestured to the room around her. “You think that this is where you’re meant to be? Shut up in a tower in a city where, by now, everyone knows your name and image? Seducing serving girls and trapping yourself for it? A prisoner of your own making?”

  Madigan sought to still the roiling anger within him. “I couldn’t care less about your purpose in training me, Ileta. I gave the Crow my word.”

  “You gave me your word.”

  “He had leverage.”

  “She is of the Unborn.” Ileta rolled her eyes. “Slit her throat and be untethered.” Madigan stared at her aghast and she chuckled. “No, of course not. That is not you. You would remain trapped.” She eyed him for a moment and sipped her wine. The small silhouette of her noctori reappeared. “I could do it for you, if you like.”

  Madigan took a step forward. The air chilled as his Shade billowed around him. “You will not touch her.”

  She strummed her fingers along the suddenly frosted glass, leaving faint fingerprints on its clouded surface. “No. I will not. Regardless, my master has need of you. Valmont gave you time, yes?” She took another sip as she watched the words sink in. “It will be a quick trip. You’ll be back with plenty of time to prepare Undermyre’s defenses to fail against his Necrothanian horde.”

  She’s never been so blatant. “A trip to the kitchens isn’t even a quick trip, here. Where are we to go?”

  Ileta held the wine to her lips and the two of them locked eyes for a moment. “To the Umbriferum.” She spoke quickly and quietly then chased the words with wine.

  A small stir of excitement bubbled within Madigan but he fought against it. “Your master lives in the ruin, is that it? A fine place to steal the secrets of the Shadowborne.”

  “Something like that.”

  If I do this, if it is him, I can kill Valmont in his lair. I can be the dagger in the dark that Will always set out to be. Madigan watched Ileta very carefully, searching for some deeper sense of the woman’s intentions. But I won’t survive it. There’d be no escape. I’ll never see home again. Never see Ynarra. Never see Will.

  But they’ll be safe.

  Ileta watched him patiently.

  I need to know for sure. “I’ll come on one condition.”

  “Always with the bargaining.” Ileta shook her head.

  “Your master’s name.”

  Ileta pursed her lips. “He has been called many things in his lifetime.”

  Madigan braced himself. “One that I would know. The most common one.” Just say it, damn you. Prove to me that Will was right.

  Ileta set down her glass and rose from the armrest. “Very well. But I have conditions of my own. You will come with me now. You will tell no one, not even that sweet girl keeping your bed warm. We leave this instant, with only the clothes upon your back. And when you return, you will tell no one what occurred nor whom you met. Should you break any of these conditions, your death will follow swiftly. Do you swear it?”

  I’ll be dead anyway. Madigan’s eyes fell back to the still form of Ynarra in the bed. A pang of sorrow went through him, yet he knew what he must do. She’ll be safe. They’ll both be safe. “I swear it. Give me the name.”

  Slowly, deliberately, Ileta approached him. She circled behind him, then brought her mouth so near to his marred ear that they were nearly touching. In a voice softer than a whisper, barely a breath, she spoke. “Maruq T’Aroth. He is called Maruq T’Aroth.”

  Realization dawned on Madigan. Before he could speak, Ileta swept her arm around his neck and kicked backward, sending the two of them plummeting through the window. Madigan’s world became a black swirl while they tumbled and fell through the air, the courtyard racing up to meet them. Then he was being dragged as they raced atop walls and spires, leaping and soaring through the air, a rag doll in Ileta’s arms. And over and over in his head, the words circled. The voice was not Ileta’s, nor was it his own, but the voice of memory, of Jervin Thorne and the stories of his youth.

  Maruq T’Aroth. Maruq T’Aroth. Aspect of Shadow. Maruq T’Aroth. Slaughtered by Valmont. Maruq T’Aroth. Maruq T’Aroth.

  Madigan had no plan for meeting dead gods.

  Thank You

  Thank you for reading Borne Rising: Beyond the Shadows - the second books in Relics of Antiquity saga.

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  Pre-dating the events of Shadowborne by over five-hundred years, this tale is a look at Dorian Valmont through the eyes of Fen Kuang, a warlord from beyond the Daurhi Wastes. Filled with magic, suspense, and history, follow this powerful pair as they enter a realm of death and decay in search of an artifact that can turn the tide in Valmont’s battle against the Hesperawn - the Codex of Ahn’Quor.

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  Also by Matthew Callahan

  Have you read them all?

  Coming in 2021 the next installment of The Relics of Antiquity:

  Dawn of Twilight (working tit
le)

  Will Davis needs answers. The Relics of Antiquity, the terrifying fusion of Radiance and Shadow coursing through his veins, his body is wracked by forces beyond his comprehension. Traveling with Cephora, he seeks those within the forest halls of Greygarde, ancient home to the Seekers.

  Meanwhile, Madigan prepares Undermyre for Valmont’s impending assault. Estranged from his brother, Madigan forges his own path, balancing Undermyre’s safety against the desires of Ileta and her master. But Undermyre’s newest ally, Jero din’Dael, is unpredictable and unstable, threatening that balance.

  Will the forces of Radiance and Shadow manage to find common ground and unite against the greater foe? Or will Valmont’s forces finally succeed in eradicating their Borne opposition forever?

  Pre-order your copy of Dawn of Twilight now!

  Valmont’s Descent: A Tale of the Relics of Antiquity

  A warlord from time immemorial.

  A sorcerer who challenged the gods.

  A quest for ultimate power.

  Fen Kuang, warrior of legend, awakens to find his horde slaughtered and a dark figure at his bedside. Before he can strike, the shadowy man entreats Fen Kuang to listen and what Fen Kuang hears changes the course of Aerillian history forever. Filled with magic, suspense, and the rich history of Aeril, follow this powerful pair as they enter a forgotten realm of death and decay in search of an artifact that can turn the tide in Valmont's battle against the Hesperawn.

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  Bottled Embers: A Tale of the Relics of Antiquity

  A hidden past.

  A murder unavenged.

  A mysterious stranger.

  Clarice, proprietor of the finest drinking house in Undermyre, has a secret. To protect it, she abandoned her home, her life, her very name, in order to start over in a new city. But when a mysterious, charming stranger enters her establishment, Clarice’s meticulously crafted world begins to tremble and crack. Will she be able to keep the ghosts of her past hidden? Or will this newcomer’s charm tear down all the walls she has built to hide behind?

  Order your copy of Bottled Embers now!

  More titles coming soon!

  About the Author

  Matthew Callahan is the author of the ongoing saga, The Relics of Antiquity. In the real world, he can be found in Portland, Oregon with his wonderful wife. In the virtual world, he can always be reached online at roguishmanner.com.

  You can connect with Matthew on Instagram and Twitter at @RoguishManner, on Facebook at Facebook.com/roguishmanner, on Goodreads, and you can always send him an email at matt@roguishmanner.com