The Flames of Deception - A Horizon of Storms: Book 1

by AJ Martin

  “When fighting with a demon you can never assume you have the upper hand! They’re feral, rabid monsters, but astonishingly clever in spite of their animal instincts. You can’t play with them. They’ll find your weak spot soon enough and have you for dinner before you can even blink. Like this poor girl,” he said, and knelt down to stroke the hair back from her greying forehead.

  “You are a foolish bitzkal!” Emary spat back.

  “I have no idea what that means, but doubtless it’s an insult. Considering I saved your skin I would expect a 'thank you' instead, but as you are obviously gripped by bloodlust right now, I will try not to take it personally,” Matthias replied, and shifted the dead girl so that she lay on her back.

  “If you were not a wielder of the world, I would rip you to shreds with my bare hands for interfering with my fight!” She folded her arms and her chest heaved in angry, short breaths.

  “You have men like me in your country?” Matthias asked as calmly as he could, inspecting the victim’s wounds.

  Emary paused a moment to recover from his disarming tone, then nodded. “Interfering, arrogant creatures! You’re all the same. And yet people fear you.”

  “Today is not a good day to push me to the limits of my patience, or you just might find out why that fear is justified!” Matthias growled.

  Luccius’s ears dipped. “Matthias,” he whispered cautiously. The wizard looked at the concern on the ansuwan’s face and the anger from his own faded.

  “I apologise,” he said. “I am not myself.” He shook his head. “I just didn’t want you to come to harm.”

  Emary exhaled and her own face grew softer. She kneeled down beside him. “You have experienced some kind of loss by these creatures?” she queried. Matthias looked at her with surprise. “It is obvious from your anger and the pain in your eyes that it is so.”

  He nodded. “Two of our companions have disappeared. We have been trying to find them and survive until we do. We aren’t from around here.”

  Emary nodded. “You are stranded in a foreign country. So am I.” She smiled. “Perhaps I can see some common ground between us wielder. But I will warn you not to interfere in my fights again!”

  Matthias sniffed. “I thought you only fought for money?”

  “I make an exception where there is sport involved,” she replied with a grin.

  Matthias looked down at the dead girl. “We had best find someone who knows who she is,” he said.

  “I have seen her before,” Emary advised. “She came into the tavern a night ago. She works for the…” she tutted. “I do not know the word for it. There is a house where the women gather and sell their services.”

  Matthias nodded, understanding. “You know where it is?” he asked.

  She nodded down the path. “Further down this road.”

  “Is there a watch house here at all? Any soldiers?” Luccius asked.

  “The opposite direction. I have only seen one man walk these streets in the day.”

  “And at night?” Luccius queried.

  Emary scoffed. “At night you will likely find them in the same house as this girl and her friends.”

  Luccius nodded. “Well I’ll go and see if I can find someone at the watch house anyway,” Luccius said.

  “And I’ll go and speak to the owner of the establishment where this girl worked,” Matthias added, standing up.

  An hour or so later, they re - entered the tavern together. The common room was a lot quieter this time around. The customers sat and stared talking in hushed whispers, about them no doubt.

  “I don’t know about you two men, but I could do with another drink,” Emary announced, patting them both on the back “Something stronger than the water that they call ale here!”

  “More like passed water,” Luccius grimaced.

  Emary stepped up to the bar. “Three mazers of fire water,” she instructed.

  “You better have the funds to match that order,” the barkeeper said with the same lack of warmth as before, reaching under the wooden surface and pulling a porcelain bottle with iron-tinted pigmentations in the shape of flames from its confines. “I paid good money for this to be imported from Aslemer.”

  “Have I not paid you for every drop of ale I have drunk these last few days?” she retorted feistily. The man raised his brow. Tutting, Emary dove inside her overcoat and pulled out two silvery coins with a square hole cut in the middle. She gestured with them to the man, and then dropped them on to the bar. They clunked like weights as they landed. The man nodded and then set the bottle beside them and brought out from beneath the bar three wooden, bowl-like cups, and filled them a quarter full each.

  "Is that all you can afford?" Luccius exclaimed at the puddle of liquid in the cups.

  Emary smiled and ignored him. She handed them each a cup and nodded toward the far wall. "There is a table free."

  The three of them sat down in the corner of the room close enough to the fire to heat them nicely, but far enough away from other occupied benches to stop anyone from eavesdropping.

  Luccius sniffed at the drink Emary had bought. "It smells like paint thinner," he said. “What did you say this was called?”

  “Fire water,” Emary advised, grinning.

  “I thought you said you wanted something stronger than water?” Matthias jibed as he studied the small cup in his hand.

  “Smell it Matthias. This is no water!” Luccius exclaimed.

  “Less talking and more drinking!” Emary beckoned to him. The ansuwan took the first sip and his eyes welled up with tears. He coughed and choked back the liquid.

  “I might go blind!” he spluttered.

  Emary laughed over her own cup. "You are as soft as butter, rabbit ears!"

  Luccius grimaced at both the comment and the drink. "How can you possibly enjoy this?"

  "It has a unique flavour," Matthias said, smacking his lips.

  “How are you not gagging?” Luccius asked in amazement.

  Matthias shrugged. "Once you get past the initial shock, it isn't that bad." He set the cup down. "Thank you."

  Emary nodded. "A peace offering," she advised. "It seems we are both victims of circumstances, wielder."

  "Me a victim..." Matthias tested the word. "Perhaps. But I appreciate the gesture." He took another sip.

  "How old are you?” Luccius asked her.

  "I am in my thirtieth cycle," she advised. "Why do you ask?"

  Luccius shrugged. “Just curious.” Emary smiled at him. His cheeks flushed, and he thought hard for another subject. “So why would there be a demon here Matthias?” he asked quickly.

  “I don’t know. The sorcerers could be extending their reach.”

  “Sorcerers… I don’t know this word,” Emary said.

  “Wielders,” Matthias advised. “Very powerful men.”

  Emary nodded. “And they are after you?” she asked.

  “Sort of. It’s a long story,” Luccius added.

  “That sounds like a story I would like to hear.”

  “Perhaps another time,” Matthias advised.

  “You have somewhere else to be?” she asked.

  “No. I just don’t want to relive past experiences right now.”

  “You cannot run from the past,” Emary instructed.

  “You can try,” Luccius interjected and finished his fire water, sticking out his tongue.

  The girl looked at them with curiosity. “You mentioned a dragon outside. Surely you do not speak of a real, living dragon?”

  “And if we do?” Matthias asked.

  “Then I would like to hear your story even more.”

  Matthias drummed his fingers on the table and peered into the mazer at the remaining liquid. Then he opened his mouth. “Alright,” he sighed. “I’ll tell you. But I have conditions.”

  Emary smiled and shifted in her seat. “Which are?”

  “If I am to tell you, then you have to swear to keep what I have told you secret from everyone,” he said, plac
ing a hand into his pocket.

  She bowed her head. “I am a woman of honour. I will keep your secrets. What are your other terms?”

  “Just one other.” He brought his hand out of his pocket and placed in, palm-down, on the table, and slid three gold coins towards her. “If you are a bounty hunter, then I would like to buy your services.”

  Luccius’ eyes boggled. “What?” he exclaimed. “Are you serious Matthias?”

  “She is seeking employment, and we need help,” he replied. He turned to her. “You will find no more honourable quest than ours.”

  “I take it I do not get to hear of this quest before I choose to accept it?” she asked.

  “If I am to tell you our story, then I need to be sure you are bound to it as well,” he said. “So what is it to be?”

  Emary looked him in the eyes a moment, and then picked up one of the coins. “Unusual markings.” She rolled it between her fingers. “I will agree to work with you. But with one additional condition for my part.” Matthias beckoned her to continue. “That should my country have need of me during my employment with you, that I will be free to break from our contract.”

  “Not very favourable terms for us,” Matthias suggested. “What if you need to leave a week from now?”

  “Unlikely. But should it happen during our journey together, then I will return to help you when my work is done.”

  “That may be too late,” Matthias said. He weighed his next words. “But I suppose it will have to be acceptable.”

  Emary grinned and held out a hand. Matthias took it. “Then we have a contract,” she advised. “I would say this calls for another drink!” Luccius groaned.

  Images

  148th Day of the Cycle, 495 N.E. (New Era)

  Josephine sat at the edge of her bed, fiddling with a loose strand of cotton on the poorly stitched sheet. Sleep was not coming easily to her. Thoughts of Crystal Ember haunted her dreams. The cries of the children as Sikaris blew a torrent of flame down upon them had woken her up screaming every night since the event. She saw herself up above in the moving fortress, powerless to do anything against the beast as it rained destruction on the city. And then, last night, she had been disturbed by another, more obscure dream.

  She was in Rina, but it was not the city she knew. It was ‘Old Rina’, the city of legendary times, destroyed hundreds of years ago. There were no white, stone walls, no hotchpotch of platforms and houses clambering atop one another as in her own Rina. This version of the city was built upon great tree trunks and wrought metals, twisted together in bizarre and artistic patterns to form grandiose buildings and pathways, curling around each other in masterful designs. It was a city that had been constructed with the help of the Akari. A city on whose ashes her own land was built.

  She moved through its streets, the stone beneath her feet flattened completely smooth, unlike the cobbled roads of the Rina she knew and watched as people all around her carried on with their daily activities. Their clothing was strange to her, and yet she could pick out similarities here and there with some of the current fashions. Their speech was strangely alien. Given they were her ancestors she had expected to be able to understand them easily, but it was as if she were in a foreign land. Every few words she caught something that sounded vaguely familiar, but the conversations going on around her were lost to her ears. The common tongue had evolved much in the centuries since this scene.

  As she passed through the crowds, she spotted someone ahead in the throng: a cloaked figure, their face shrouded in shadow. They turned and stared at her and time seemed to slow. She felt fearful of the figure and as they met her gaze, their eyes caught the light and shone like a cat’s. Then, quick as a flash, the figure turned and moved through the crowds again, delving deeper into the city. Curious, in spite of her fear, Josephine followed them, pushing past people. As quickly as she moved, the figure was always just out of reach, turning corners just as she began to catch up with them.

  Eventually she watched as the figure disappeared into a large, grey - metal building. She knew what it was from her lessons: the old Citadel of Rina. Who would have known that her teachings would have come in handy after all, despite her resistance to them! Jewels were set into the metal structure at regular intervals and as the light caught them they glittered at her as she passed through the open doorway and into the building. As she passed through the arch, the figure disappeared up a red - carpeted stairway. Again, she followed.

  As she reached the top of the stairs, turning and looking each way down the corridor in front of her, the figure was nowhere to be seen. But she could hear noises, coming from her right, and so she started to follow them. As she moved deeper and deeper into the citadel, the noises grew deeper, and then, with a start, she realised what the noises were and began to blush. They were noises of passion, of embrace, and for a moment she stopped where she was, shocked by what she still strained to hear. But then curiosity got the better of her and she inched forward again, as the sounds of heavy breathing grew louder. A closed door stood in front of her and it seemed to pulse at her as she approached it. Reaching out with her hand, she pushed it open. She gasped at what she saw, and her eyes grew wide.

  The figure she had pursued stood before her, the cloaked shawl draped loosely down beneath her pale blue shoulders, exposing her bosom. Fine, white hairs covered her pastel skin, and she – for Josephine could see it was a female now – drew her head back in pleasure as the figure of a human male drew forward and kissed her chest beneath her neck. The female Akari’s face turned towards Josephine now and smiled. Disturbed, Josephine stepped back. Then the man looked up too and she knew instantly whom it was. She had seen that face before, so many times throughout her life, unmistakably similar to the figure in the portraits that lined her palace. It was King Alebran II, her ancestor.

  Suddenly the scene changed and the figures had moved to the bed. But they were no longer shrouded in embrace. Instead the Akari was on her back, bearing down in childbirth, and the king was by her side, holding her hand tightly. Josephine watched in horrified fascination, as a child emerged from her mother and was picked up by the king. Then he began to walk towards Josephine, and she found she could not move her feet as he came to her and presented the child to her. Its skin was human - pink, but its hair a shocking white and the eyelids were tinged with the blue of its mother’s.

  Josephine stared from the child to the king and then back to the Akari female, who opened her mouth and spoke to her from the bed she lay on.

  “Now do you see?” she whispered.

  Josephine had awoken in a sweat and threw off the bedclothes. The images flocked her mind and for the rest of the night she had simply lain on top of the covers, thinking of the dream. Only, she was almost entirely sure that it was not just a dream. She began to recount all she had been taught as a child, of her family lineage, way back to the time when King Alebran II had sat on the throne of Aralia. Not much was known of his wife and she could not even recount her name, now she thought about it. But she remembered being taught that his son, Elyas, had been known to be an incredibly sickly youth who died at the age of sixteen, shortly after his own son was born to the Princess of Olindia. And then the history of the next two generations was marred by conflict, by the war with Helriven. Little was left of the records of the reign of Aralia during those times. Could it be though that in those ancient days her ancestor had been a part - Akari? Was that the reason for her ‘gift’? And if so, then why did her father not share the same ability?

  A knock at her door startled her out of her rumination and she let the thread of the sheet drop from her fingers. She jumped out of her thoughts to unlatch the lock. Thadius hobbled into the room. It had been almost twelve days since they had fled Crystal Ember and his leg had not healed one bit from their escape.

  “Thadius, what is it? It’s very late,” she sighed wearily. “Isn’t it?”

  “It will be sunrise in less than an hour,” he said. “I could not sleep. I to
ok a chance that you could not either.”

  She smiled. “Well, you are correct about that. I didn’t realise the time.”

  “Another bad dream?” he asked.

  “Something of that kind,” she said. “I will tell you later, perhaps.”

  “I beg your pardon for disturbing you.” He bowed to her, groaning slightly as he tried to right himself again to salute.

  “I’ve told you not to do that!” Josephine scolded him, rising to help him. “Come, sit.” She helped him over to a chair, which he slumped into awkwardly, groaning against various bruises. She sniffed a laugh. “I would have thought given how much we have travelled these last few nights, from town to town, that you would have been quite ready to collapse into bed! Especially with your leg.”

  “I can’t relax enough to sleep through,” he advised. “Not when I know that you could be in danger. Who knows where that dragon is now?”

  “We have been travelling for a good few nights and have yet to spot any sign of him on our current path. But likewise, we haven’t found any sign of Matthias or Luccius either.” She sighed. “I feel like we are itinerant workers, jumping from place to place in search of something that we may never find.”

  Thadius exhaled and nodded solemnly. “We may have to accept that they might not have made it out alive from Crystal Ember.” He stared at his feet. “If that is the case, then we are chasing a fool’s errand.”

  She swallowed. “I’m not willing to accept their fate yet Thadius. I can’t.”

  He smiled thinly. “Of course. I understand that. But where do we go next?” he asked.

  “To the next town or village, of course,” she advised.

  “We have been to six towns with no luck,” Thadius said. “It is ten miles to the next village. Can we continue to blindly dash from place to place, with no other plan, when we should be doing something about the dragon?”

  “I can’t do anything about Sikaris without Matthias!” Josephine exclaimed.