Ghortin nodded as if it made perfect sense to him. “Ah, but it does, and it ties in with the mystery of why the trail has been so clear. Kern is providing directions to the king.” He gave a laugh, “I always knew that man wasn’t as unimaginative as he acted.” He motioned toward the other two as if they were errant students.
“Kern went along with Daylin because he felt he couldn’t disobey a direct command. But he’s been leaving trail markers and taking an old, slow route on the chance we’d be coming along to straighten things out. It could be someone else’s doing, but Kern would be the best guess.”
He gave a nod toward Edgar. “Don’t sit there, man. Tell Crell to change direction to the newer trail. If all goes well, we’ll catch up with our wayward king before nightfall, have a nice sleep, and then be on our way for Lithunane in the morning.” Ghortin was positively beaming as he urged his horse to a faster pace.
The shorter caravan trail worked. They crested the last hill in sight of the king’s camp as it was being set up.
40
One of the Lithunane archers who had fought alongside Crell during the battle for the tower was the first to spot them. “Thank the Lady you’re here. I’m not certain what’s going on, but something is horribly wrong.”
Crell nodded. “What’s happening?”
The tall archer flicked a look over her shoulder at the settling camp. “King Daylin told us we were to be part of an advance group and that backup would follow. Captain Kern kept asking him questions that he couldn’t answer. It soon became obvious that this was a plan of his alone, and that no support would be coming.” She looked at the small group with a sigh. “Unless, of course, you happened to have brought more people with you? Who are hidden at the moment?”
Crell shook her head. “Just the rest of those who can still fight. They’re around here somewhere. Pasha, tell me, does it seem like someone is controlling him?”
The black-haired archer shrugged. “I don’t think so. Captain Kern doesn’t think so. But he does think something is wrong with the king. He seems to lose touch with reality from time to time. Forgetting who our true enemy is.” She gave a pointed look at Storm and Ghortin.
“He’s told people we’re the enemy?” Ghortin was surprised at that. Storm said nothing, but a tight white line appeared along his jaw.
“Not really. He let it slip around Kern on the way here. That was how Kern figured that things weren’t as the king said. Kern tried to leave a trail in case you were following, and he convinced the king that it would be safer to take the old route.” She snapped to attention. “What now?”
“I think you should stay out here as guard. The Markare isn’t a safe place, even this close to the border. One way or another we’re going to convince the king to come back with us,” Ghortin said as he moved his horse forward. The archer gave Crell a small nod, then faded into the woods.
The camp itself was neat and orderly under the guidance of Captain Kern.
“Ho. Mastermage Ghortin, Prince Corin. I’m glad you made it. You found the trail?” Kern’s eyes were bright, but he wore a slightly haggard look. It must have been hard to keep the king happy and still leave markers for them to follow.
“Yes, and thank you. It made our trip much easier. Where is he?” There was steel in Ghortin’s voice that no one could miss. Jenna knew her mentor was at the end of his patience.
Kern sighed and wordlessly pointed toward the large healer tent. Ghortin motioned for the others to follow a bit behind him as he marched to the tent.
The recovering king was on a cot with Frankon and three guards huddled in conference. Sitting dejectedly in one corner was Keanin.
Keanin’s face lit up at the sight of them, but he said nothing. The king must have caught his intake of breath however, for he looked up at that moment. A frown was quickly replaced by a calculating smile.
“Ghortin, my good man. You made it. Good, good. Now, we’ve been working out a plan. If we break up into groups of three or four, we can have this quarter of the desert covered by—”
“What are you talking about, Daylin? Why did you leave us behind?”
The king’s smile vanished. “My actions are not to be questioned by anyone, even you. Now you can go along with us and our plan to track down the mage who abducted me, or I can put you under guard and send you back to Lithunane.” His eyes took on a pleading gleam. “I’d much rather have you with us. And, of course, the rest of you.” He nodded toward Edgar, Storm, and Jenna but it seemed that his bright eyes lingered on her for longer than necessary. The kindly looking man she had briefly seen at the ball all those months ago was a far cry from the feverish man huddled in front of her.
“This involves magic of the highest order. Do you want me to overrule you in front of these people? I will.” Ghortin looked down at the king with unflinching resolve. “This isn’t the right time. We’ll do nothing but die.”
“Are you so afraid to die? We die for a cause.” The king’s face was becoming unnaturally flushed.
“If we die, they win. I don’t intend to let that happen.” Ghortin stepped forward. Daylin shrunk back, and then hung his head.
“Perhaps you are right. Let me sit for a while, then I shall come out and announce my decision.” For a brief moment he looked like a tired old man. “You will let me keep some dignity, won’t you?”
Ghortin smiled at his old friend. “I could never take that from you. We’ll wait outside.”
The king’s eyes searched Storm’s tight face for a brief second before Storm turned and stiffly followed Ghortin out.
Crell had waited outside to give the call to her fighters, who were circling the camp, should the need arise. “Do we fight?” She stood at attention.
Ghortin shook his head. “No, he’s decided to come back with us. But I’m going to let him tell these people. You might as well call all but a few scouts in.”
As he spoke, a strange wailing flowed over the camp. It took but a second to realize that it was coming from the king’s tent. Jenna tugged on Ghortin’s arm as a sickly force hit her magic senses.
“It’s Frankon, he’s pulling in Power for something like those triads.”
41
Jenna frantically looked around and realized that Keanin hadn’t followed them out. “Keanin’s still in there. Frankon must be using him, pulling Power from him the way Keanin helped me before.”
Before Jenna could run for the tent, Ghortin was in front of her, pulling in huge amounts of Power as he ran. He was slammed to the ground an instant later as an uncontrolled discharge of the Power building in the tent exploded.
“No. Get away from me!” Frankon’s scream was followed by the mage himself a split second later. His eyes were wide and bloodshot, his pupils unnaturally small and his body shook uncontrollably as he fell to his knees, a knife dark with blood falling from his hands. He stretched those same hands out to Ghortin, but it wasn’t the mastermage he was seeing. “Help me, Lord Ravenhearst. I didn’t know what they were. They aren’t—” His scream was cut off abruptly as his head was sliced off by a huge battle axe.
Frankon’s body tumbled to the ground as a snarling Marta stepped forward from the side of the tent. A cut on her arm oozed sickly green ichor; identical to the color blood shed by the demonspawn. Two other guards stepped forward with the king, no longer looking frail, behind them.
“Too bad the idiot figured things out faster than we expected.” Marta dropped the axe, and pulled a sword out from a dead man behind her.
Ghortin released a massive firestorm spell, one that should have wiped out not only the demonspawn Marta, but everyone with her. The flames abruptly vanished a foot in front of her.
“Always predictable, aren’t you, cuari spawn? Even now, you have no idea what is about to happen.” The king spoke; it was he who had stopped the flames with little effort.
Storm went pale and he gripped his sword tighter. “What have you done with my father?”
The look on the king’s
face proved without a doubt that he was not Storm’s father. “Oh, I’m still Daylin, well, what’s left of him anyway. I’m sure you’ll last much longer before your mind explodes.”
A subtle movement gave him away and Jenna threw herself physically and magically in front of Storm. The spell had been brutally strong, but was meant to ensnare, not kill. For some reason, the demonspawn king wanted Storm alive.
The false king pulled back in surprise and regarded Jenna closely. “This is interesting, and oh so unexpected.” The look on his face was nothing short of horrifying, with a death’s head grin, he closed his eyes and began pulling something to him. Five demonspawn appeared out of thin air behind him, and more were trying to come through. Jenna frantically pulled in more Power than she had ever held; constructing it as she drew it into a new weapon. She piled layer upon layer on it, hoping at least one would get through. The false king was somehow opening a passage to whatever hell his kind came from. Colors burst in her head, momentarily blinding her as she cast the spell at the false king. Her eyesight cleared well enough to see him stagger under the spell’s attack.
The newly formed demonspawn were still there, but the gaps for the ones still trying to come through closed with loud pops. The false king turned and stumbled back into the tent.
Jenna took a shuddering breath and found a sword hilt being shoved into her hands by a numb-eyed Storm. That was a good idea on his part, she didn’t think she had any Power left at this point. He nodded once she had the sword tight, then turned and faced two of the demonspawn guards. Jenna struggled to hold her own with another, as Ghortin flung spell after spell at Marta. Crell joined in and made short work of the guardsman Jenna had been trying to fight.
Fighting broke out all around them as those who had followed the false king into the desert attacked the demonspawn that he had been able to pull through.
Jenna and Ghortin ran toward the tent as Keanin let loose a horrifying scream.
Ghortin almost shredded the tent trying to get inside, but he pulled back immediately once he did. The former king bore no resemblance to Storm’s father now. His skin was cracking in dozens of oozing green sores, his eyes flashing red as he looked up at them. Jenna pushed past Ghortin when she saw Keanin lying unconscious next to the false king. She froze when she realized that the thing had one hand on Keanin’s heart, the other on his head. Keanin’s face grew gray and wan as a transport spell flickered around him and the demonspawn.
“We can’t let them go.” Jenna reached for a spell only to find nothing remaining. The look on Ghortin’s face said he had nothing left magically either.
The demonspawn released the hand he had over Keanin’s heart and reached it toward Jenna. “Come with me, child; my master will welcome two such worthy prizes.”
As he spoke, Jenna found her feet moving toward him in an odd shuffling step; nothing she did halted her movement. Ghortin reached for her, but he was frozen in place.
Storm came in and stood next to her with a look of terror on his face as he took in the tableau before him. He immediately raised his sword and charged forward, only to be locked in place by the same spell holding Ghortin immobile.
“Stay there, boy. Join your pretty friends.”
Storm stumbled, but took a step forward. Jenna realized the thing before them had been able to stop him, but controlling herself and Ghortin was causing a drain on his Power. She didn’t think it would be able to control Storm for long. Storm’s sword raised higher as he took another step forward.
“I gave you that sword for your fiftieth year coming of age; you can’t kill me with it. You won’t kill me with it. You’ll come with me to my master; you can have the girl when he is finished with her.”
As he spoke, the demonspawn king removed his other hand from Keanin, moving away with arms raised as if to show how little he feared Storm. Even though the thing before them didn’t look like King Daylin to her eyes, to Storm it must have been brutal. That the demonspawn had his father’s memories was terrifying.
Storm took another step, but Jenna saw the pain in his eyes. He shook himself off and took yet another step, tears coursing down his face as he closed in on the thing that had been his father.
Jenna fought harder to push against the invisible bands holding her. From the strain on his face, Ghortin was trying as well. An instant later the hold broke on Storm and he ran forward, spearing the false king in the heart.
Jenna and Ghortin both dropped to their knees as the creature’s spells broke when the sword pierced his heart. Storm stumbled back and dropped down next to Jenna.
The dying demonspawn king lifted his head enough to look at them all, his gaze fading as he glared at Ghortin. “You have won but a small victory, Ghortin. Slowed us down, nothing more. And we will know more for next time.”
A chill crept down Jenna’s back as the voice faded along with the thing’s life.
Ghortin shook them all back to awareness. “Come on, help me get Keanin and let’s leave here. I want this all burnt to ash.”
Jenna and Storm helped each other up. Crell came into the tent to help him wake Keanin. Unfortunately, Keanin wouldn’t wake and they finally had to carry him out.
The scene outside the tent was almost as grim as the inside had been. The remaining demonspawn were all dead, but not before they took out half of the fighters from Kern’s group and half of the additional fighters from Lithunane. Kern and Marta were found a few feet from the tent, locked in a bloody death grip that neither had survived.
Ghortin separated the bodies carefully. “It’s as I feared; like the false king, this demonspawn didn’t change back at death. Demonspawn always revert to their true form at death. I have no idea what they are, but they are far beyond normal demonspawn.”
No one said anything; everyone was too heartsick and injured to speculate on what form of demonspawn they had been dealing with. Ghortin looked them over briefly, and then nodded. “Crell, gather our people. We need to take those who will live back to Lithunane as soon as we can travel. We need to burn the remains of those demonspawn. That thing back there,” he pointed at the tent, “was right; our victory is not what it should be, and it cost us much. As soon as everything is ready, we ride. We need to make plans with King Resstlin; the war has begun.”
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The End
Dear Reader,
Thank you for joining in on the flagship adventure for the Books of the Cuari trilogy. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
The second book, DIVISION OF CHAOS will take off early 2021. The battle is just beginning for Jenna, Storm, Keanin, and the rest.
If you’re also interested in space opera, please check out the first book in The Asarlaí Wars trilogy- WARRIOR WENCH.
Magic, mayhem, and drunken faeries run loose in THE GLASS GARGOYLE, the first book in The Lost Ancients fantasy series.
Like steampunk? Try A CURIOUS INVASION.
THE GIRL WITH THE IRON WING is the first book in a fast moving urban fantasy thriller if your interests go that way.
I really appreciate each and every one of you so please keep in touch. You can find me at www.marieandreas.com.
And please feel free to email me directly at [email protected] as well, I love to hear from readers!
If you enjoyed this book (or any book for that matter ;)) please spread the word! Positive reviews on Amazon, Goodreads, and blogs are like emotional gold to any writer and mean more than you know.
Marie
Other books by Marie Andreas
The Lost Ancients Series
Book One: The Glass Gargoyle
Book Two: The Obsidian Chimera
Book Three: The Emerald Dragon
Book Four: The Sapphire Manticore
Book Five: The Golden Basilisk
Book Six: The Diamond Sphinx
The Asarlaí Wars Trilogy
Book One: Warrior Wench
Book Two: Victorious Dead
Book Three: Defiant Ruin
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The Adventures of Smith and Jones
Book One: A Curious Invasion
Book Two: The Mayhem of Mermaids
Broken Veil Trilogy
Book One: The Girl with the Iron Wing
Book Two: An Uncommon Truth of Dying
The Books of the Cuari Trilogy
Book One: Essence of Chaos
Book Two: Division of Chaos
Book Three: Destruction of Chaos
About the Author
Marie is a multiple award winning fantasy and science fiction reader with a reading addiction. If she wasn’t writing about all of the people in her head, she’d be lurking about coffee shops annoying innocent passer-by with her stories. So really, writing is a way of saving the masses. She lives in Southern California and is currently owned by two extremely pushy cats—who often like to walk across her keyboard.
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When not saving the general populace from coffee shop shenanigans, Marie likes to visit the UK and keeps hoping someone will give her a nice summer home in the Forest of Dean or northern Wales.
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More information can be found on her website http://marieandreas.com/
Essence of Chaos Page 38
