The Phoenix King: The Thunderheart Chronicles Book 2

by Alexander Brockman

  The witch tossed two coins to Eleanor, who put them in her pack.

  “Thank you,” Timothy said.

  The two wizards started to walk away when Timothy remembered something important.

  “Selena,” he said, turning back towards the woods.

  “Yes dearie?”

  “We’ve heard rumors of phoenixes in the mountains to the north. Do you know where they might be?”

  The hag frowned. “I haven’t heard of any fire-birds. But if anyone knew, it would be that awful cult, the Avalon Seekers.”

  Timothy had heard that word before. Avalon. It showed up in a lot of old sorcerer texts, but he had never been able to find any solid information on it.

  “Where can we find these seekers?” Eleanor asked.

  “They have a camp on the other side of the mountains. You’ll never get there without a wyvern, and then only if you’re lucky. They’re always travelling. Sometimes they come to the villages here, though I haven’t the faintest idea how. Always keep their faces covered. Some people say they’re not human. Can’t say I disagree, with that god they worship.”

  “What god?” Timothy asked.

  “Oh, he’s got a lot of names. Lives up on that mountain. People say he gave the whole world magic.”

  Timothy blinked in surprise. “You mean an Ancient? There’s a living one? The legends say they died out hundreds of years ago.”

  Selena nodded. “You can call him that if you want. Your people have always believed they were good. But here in Aranumis, we know what they really are.”

  “And what’s that?” Eleanor asked.

  “Demons, dearie. The man on the mountain is a demon.”

  12

  Aaliyah and the youngest crossbowman sat across from each other. The previous night he had thrown his armor into the river and collapsed from exhaustion after saving the kids. Aaliyah had tied him up and gone to sleep herself. Now, it was early morning, and the children were still sleeping. Aaliyah wanted to talk to the soldier before they woke up. If things got bloody, there was no reason to traumatize them more.

  Aaliyah wasn’t really sure how to start the conversation. For one, she didn’t know how much of her language this boy knew. So she was thankful when he spoke first.

  “Garret kill them,” he said. His face was completely blank and void of emotion. Aaliyah knew that look. It was the same one she had after her first kill.

  “Who? The children? We’ll keep them safe.”

  The boy laughed. “There is no safe. Garret kill kids. Garret kill my family.”

  Aaliyah nodded. She had suspected that this boy was forced into service.

  “I have a very powerful friend who is hunting Garret right now. Soon the Dark Angel will be dead.”

  The soldier shook his head. “No one kill Garret. Too strong.”

  Aaliyah felt a little bit of fear rise in her stomach, but pushed it back down. At full power Aidan could down a dragon with a single spell. He could take care of himself.

  “Well, my friend is too. For now, I need a place to take these kids. Is there anywhere around here?”

  The soldier shook his head again. “My village near gold mine. Bad. Too many soldier.”

  Aaliyah thought for a moment. “How many of those soldiers were forced to fight? Are there any like you, who want to be free?”

  The young man slowly nodded, and Aaliyah saw just a smidgen of hope enter his eye. “I have friends. We hate Garret.”

  “Okay,” Aaliyah said. “How many?”

  The crossbowman pondered for a moment. “Six friend, fifteen bad.”

  Aaliyah thanked the stars that they taught the soldiers how to count in the language of Sortiledge.

  “If we take back that town, will there be a place for the children?”

  Her new ally was getting more and more excited. “People there sad, no children. They take all.”

  The amogh stood and walked behind the soldier. “I’m releasing you now. Try to fight me and you know what I’ll do.”

  She cut the bonds and he turned around, awkwardly sticking out his hand.

  “I Mason.”

  The amogh smiled and grasped it. “Aaliyah. Now wake the children up, Mason. We’re going to take back your home.”

  Aaliyah was making good use of her tree climbing skills this trip. The village Mason had led her to was less than halfway up the mountain, so trees still grew there. The amogh had chosen an evergreen as her perch from which to survey the little town.

  It was small, but not as small as Kyra’s home. There were no walls surrounding this village. The only security seemed to be a watchtower, situated next to a little hut. Aaliyah assumed that the small dwelling was supposed to be an armory or barracks of some sort, because soldiers were milling around it. Already, the girl was forming a plan on how to take them out.

  Other than that, there wasn’t much to this place. Mason had told her the village only existed because of the gold mines, another two miles up the mountain. Farming was difficult at this altitude, and the soil wasn’t particularly rich, so there were no fields or silos. The only other notable buildings that Aaliyah could see were a metalworker’s shack and a griffin breeder’s barn, accompanied by several houses.

  The amogh’s heart leapt when she saw the griffin barn. She recognized it instantly for its size and the massive hole in its flat roof.

  She was about to return to Mason and the others when she heard something coming into the village from the other side. While she watched, a cart came into sight. The girl settled back into tree to see what would happen.

  The cart was an old wooden thing that had clearly seen better days. It was drawn by two donkeys, who were prodded along by four soldiers. Following behind was a group of miserable looking children, each of them carrying a sack on their back. As the cart came into the town, people began to stream from the buildings and houses. The children lined up and were one by one directed by a soldier to go to either go to their family or back to the cart. Those who were sent to the cart began to unload its cargo and carry it to the metalworker’s shack, along with the sacks on their backs. Aaliyah couldn’t see what they were carrying from her perch, but she could guess. Gold was as valuable as it had ever been, and Malcomer had to fund his war somehow.

  One of the soldiers unhinged the donkeys from the cart and flipped it over, right next to the soldier’s hut. The children who had not been sent to their families crawled underneath it, while their parents stood and watched. Aaliyah saw some of the families begin to cry, and rage filled her stomach. The entire town was enslaved. By keeping some of the children every night, the soldiers ensured no one would try to rebel.

  She dropped down from her perch and ran back through the woods. Mason and the children were setting up a small camp. The kids were hungry and tired, but they knew they were almost free. To Aaliyah’s surprise, they were more terrified of her than Mason. She supposed it made sense after they saw what she had done to the other soldiers. Mason had explained to them, in their language, who she was, but it had done little to ease their fears. They still avoided her when possible and refused to make eye contact. One of the smallest, a little girl, cried whenever the amogh went anywhere near her.

  Aaliyah found Mason teaching some of the little ones how to start a campfire. The young soldier had an air of strength and leadership about him. The amogh guessed he was an oldest sibling, and if his name meant anything he was probably a stoneworker. She waited until there was a modest blaze going, then pulled him to the side.

  “I saw the soldiers come back from the mines. How long has this been going on?” she asked.

  Mason closed his eyes. Aaliyah could tell he wanted to cry. “Garret. Before, Adults worked in mine. Now all adults are soldiers. Garret makes children work.”

  Again the amogh felt a burning rage. “I think I know how we can get rid of all of the soldiers. But I need to know that you are with me all the way.”

  Mason nodded vigorously. “My brother and sister work in
mine. We will save them.”

  Aaliyah smiled. “Okay, here’s the plan.”

  ***

  A single soldier stood next to the cart, moonlight glinting off his polished armor. Mason had already told Aaliyah that he wasn’t one he hoped to turn to their side. The boy had told her that all of his friends had grown up in the village, and many of them had sweethearts and families here. The rest of the soldiers had come to the village when Garret took over. Before, this village had been a happy place that kept up a modest gold mining operation to sustain itself. Now it mined and processed enough of the stuff to fund an entire army. And Aaliyah had no doubt that was exactly what it was doing.

  Now, this outsider was watching over the cart, apathetic to the occasional whimpers and sniffles of the children underneath it. Aaliyah could hear him whistling from her hiding spot, behind the soldiers’ hut. Mason was crouched next to her, his crossbow loaded and ready.

  The only other guard the amogh could see was on lookout. He seemed to be almost asleep as he stared at the metalworker’s shop, his helmet on the railing next to him.

  Aaliyah gave the signal, and Mason raised his weapon. A single bolt flew from the bow and slammed into the back of the lookout’s head. He fell without a sound.

  The soldier watching the cart looked up.

  “What—”

  Aaliyah sprang from behind the hut and plunged her knife into his neck before he could finish the sentence.

  She dragged the body back behind the hut, and she and Mason stripped him of his armor. When the young crossbowman was fully dressed, he turned to Aaliyah and pointed to a spot on his cheek.

  “Make it real,” he said.

  The amogh slashed her knife across his face. She was impressed to see that he barely even blinked.

  “Good luck,” she whispered.

  The boy half smiled and ran into the hut. Aaliyah pressed her ear up to it to hear what was going on.

  “Mason?” a voice said. “Where is your squad?”

  “Dead,” he panted. “A great warrior from south killed them. She here, in village now.”

  Aaliyah smiled. Mason was playing his part well. She heard a lot of swearing from inside the hut, and some clanging metal. Mason had told her the place was both the barracks and armory. Right now the soldiers were probably throwing on their armor as fast as they could.

  “Start getting into squads. Mason, you look injured.”

  “It’s just a cut,” the boy said. “I can lead a defensive squad. Just give me those five.”

  The other voice hesitated for a moment. Aaliyah held her breath. Their whole plan hinged on whether or not Mason could keep the “good” soldiers in the village.

  “Fine, you know what we’re up against. The rest of you, come with me.”

  Aaliyah heard the door creak open and soldiers came pouring out. The hut was bigger than it had seemed from the forest, but with weapons and men it must have still been cramped in there.

  Good job Mason. Now it’s my turn, the amogh thought.

  She jogged toward the forest. She heard a shout behind her, and a crossbow bolt slammed into a tree next to her right as she entered the forest. She heard soldiers crashing into the woods behind her, weighed down by their heavy armor.

  Twenty minutes. That was how long she and Mason had agreed she would have to keep the soldiers distracted. It was probably the hardest thing she had ever done. The amogh had been taught to disappear in a moment, to hide in ways that seemed to defy the laws of nature. On an open field, she could outrun these men by a mile. The girl had to let them see her enough to keep them chasing, without ever letting herself be caught.

  Thankfully, she had set up some traps throughout the woods to force the soldiers to stop for a few moments. A snare that sent a swordsman sprawling, a large branch that fell on three crossbowmen, and several disguised holes that resulted in sprained ankles.

  After about fifteen minutes of leading the men on the chase through the woods, Aaliyah disappeared into the forest and made her way back around the men and to the village.

  Every torch and fire had been lit, casting an eerie glow over the houses and trees. All of the villagers were awake, and most of them had swords, crossbows, or maces, and those who didn’t had picks and pitchforks. The door to the armory was wide open, and Mason was handing out the last of the armor to some of the biggest men. The children from Kyra’s village were sitting together in the midst of it,

  As Aaliyah walked into the village people began to stare at her with awe and fear. It felt awful. The amogh much preferred sticking to the shadows.

  This must be what it feels like to be a sorcerer, Aaliyah thought.

  Mason greeted her with a half-smile.

  “The people fight for our home. But if soldiers not surrender, many die. No armor.”

  Aaliyah glanced around at the makeshift army. They certainly outnumbered the soldiers in terms of people and weapons, but Mason was right. Save for the five soldiers Mason had recruited, not a single villager was wearing anything stronger than a cotton shirt.

  “Then we’d better make this work. Mason, you know these people and these weapons better than I do. Make a shield wall, and put the children somewhere safe.

  The boy nodded and started yelling in his own language. Every villager with a shield ran to the front of the village, facing the forest. The mace-men and crossbowmen ducked behind them, the latter with bolts loaded and ready to fire. Mason then ushered the smaller children into the armory and closed the door, and took his place in the middle of the shield wall.

  After glancing around the village for the best vantage point, Aaliyah decided to climb the watchtower. She had to throw down the body of the guard that Mason had shot earlier. It suddenly occurred to her that the lookout was probably Mason’s first kill. And it was probably someone the poor kid knew.

  The amogh pushed aside her thoughts and pulled out her sling. She had brought six stones with her, each a little bit bigger than her fist. She hoped she wouldn’t have to use any of them.

  The soldiers all arrived at the village at the same time. Aaliyah swore under her breath. She had been hoping they would stumble in one at a time and surrender.

  They stopped when they saw the shield wall, and one of the swordsmen stepped forward.

  “Mason, it’s against protocol to give villagers weapons, which I might excuse if your shield wall weren’t so pathetic. What if the warrior attacks from the rear?”

  The boy popped his head over the top of the wall and aimed his crossbow.

  “Wall not for warrior. Wall for you.”

  Aaliyah started to twirl her sling. No one had seen her yet.

  “What do you mean, wall for you? Are you trying to lead a revolt here? Men, take him down.”

  Aaliyah let her stone fly a moment before Mason released his bolt. The stone hit the lead soldier’s head at an angle. It certainly wasn’t Aaliyah’s best shot, but it was enough. His helmet went flying, and the crossbow bolt slammed into his forehead. He fell with a look of surprise etched into his face.

  The remaining soldiers seemed to be weighing their odds. They were disorganized, most of them with their weapons sheathed. One of them turned and tried to run into the woods. Aaliyah took him down with a stone to the back of the head. She couldn’t let anyone escape to tell Garret or Malcommer about this.

  “Put down weapons and live,” Mason said.

  Aaliyah prepared another stone, but there was no need. One by one the soldiers put their swords, maces, and crossbows on the ground and put their hands behind their heads. One of them tried to be a hero and rush the shield wall, but he fell with several bolts in every unprotected part of his body.

  The villagers slowly came forward and took the weapons, then tied the soldiers up with ropes. Aaliyah felt her heart leap as the villagers began to cheer.

  The amogh climbed down from the watchtower. Mason greeted her with a massive hug and a grin. Aaliyah normally hated physical contact, but she would let it happen thi
s once.

  “Thank you,” he whispered. “You free my people.”

  The girl smiled. Amongst all the death and pain she had caused, it was nice to know she had done something good.

  One of the older men stepped forward. He was toting a hammer that looked like it was made for stones, not battle.

  “I am this villages elder, and Mason’s grandfather. If there is ever a way for my people to repay you, then you must only ask. We hope that you will join us in the celebration.”

  Aaliyah smiled. “Actually, I have somewhere I need to be. But I need a griffin to get there. And I need someone’s help to call a friend.”

  13

  Aidan and Kyra made it to Wyvern’s roost late in the evening. They decided to stop when they saw a large wooden sign with the words “Here be Wyverns” written in three different languages. Sometime before morning, Aidan was awakened by magic emanating from his pack. He shook Kyra awake and pulled out his communication crystal. He knew as soon as he touched the rock that the magic was from the phoenix egg, not Timothy or Eleanor. That made sense; he had been getting feelings of happiness and relief from his end of the heartsoul link.

  “Hello Aidan. My name Mason. Aaliyah sends greetings.”

  “It’s nice to meet you Mason,” Aidan said. He saw Kyra’s eyes begging him to ask a question. “Kyra wants to know if the children survived.”

  There was a delay between messages. From the way she was wringing her hands, Aidan was pretty sure those ten seconds were an eternity for Kyra.

  “Yes, they in my village now,” Mason said. Kyra sighed in relief and her shoulders dropped.

  “Aaliyah ask if Garret dead.”

  “No,” Aidan answered. “We are outside Wyvern’s Roost now. We plan to scout it out tomorrow morning.”

  Another long moment of silence passed.

  “Aaliyah says wait to attack. She there at … midday?”

  “All right,” Aidan said. “We’ll check out the fort, then wait for her.”