Voyage of the Mourning Dawn: Heirs of Ash, Book 1

by Rich Wulf

  Hunters mounted on clawfoots either struggled to round up the fleeing dinosaurs or charged into the village to fight. The sleek silver shape of the Kenshi Zhann hovered above the spectacle. Plumes of lightning raked down from its bow, ravaging the village. Most of the Ghost Talons were not warriors, and those few who were had been no match for Moon’s incredible firepower. A dozen charred bodies lay at the outskirts of the village, lying beside their dead steeds. Shrieks echoed through the night, punctuated by the crack of thunder in the distant sky.

  Seren caught sight of Omax and Eraina at the edge of the village. Koranth and two of his hunters were surrounded by seven of Marth’s heavily armed Cyran soldiers. The riders moved back to back, holding their spears defensively as they prepared to fight to the last.

  “For Boldrei!” Eraina shouted defiantly and leapt into their midst. She whirled her spear in one hand and her short sword in the other, striking down one of the soldiers before the others even registered her presence.

  Omax rumbled up beside her, his massive presence drawing immediate attention. One of the soldiers struck fiercely with his sword, striking the warforged across the chest with a shower of sparks. Omax shrugged off the blow and clapped his hands together heavily on each side of the man’s head.

  Koranth looked up in surprise. The halfling’s anger that his prisoners had escaped was dispelled by a more practical reaction. “Ghost Talon warriors, to me!” he cried. His steed lunged forward, pinning another of the soldiers to the ground with one sharp claw. The other Cyrans a banded together, reappraising the situation now that the odds were not so clearly in their favor.

  Seren ran forward to join her friends, dagger in hand, but a flash of lightning revealed an unexpected figure. Kiris Overwood was running into the village, heedless of the danger. Seren scowled. Had the wizard believed nothing that they had said? She’d expected at most that Kiris might simply run away once the others had left her behind, or that she might even help them fight Marth. Was she running back to join her mad hero? Seren hurried after her.

  In the center of the village, the Seventh Moon had dropped a boarding ladder near Rossa’s tent, which remained mostly intact. Cyran soldiers were already hurriedly climbing back up the ladder, back onto the ship. Kiris was headed directly for them when Seren seized her by the shoulder. The wizard whirled around, only to find Seren’s dagger held near throat.

  “Khyber, Kiris are you insane?” Seren asked. “Are you going back to him?”

  “I have to, Seren,” she said desperately. “I have to try. I know the prophet is the one doing this, the one twisting him. If I leave him, who will keep him from becoming a monster?”

  “He’s already a monster,” Seren said.

  “No, there’s still hope,” Kiris said. “He hasn’t completed the Legacy yet.”

  Seren’s eyes flicked past Kiris, toward the chief’s tent. The tent flap opened and Marth and Dalan stepped out. Dalan looked angry but unafraid. Marth held his amethyst wand in one hand and gestured at the boarding ladder. Dalan began to climb.

  “They’re taking Dalan,” Seren said.

  “I can stop him,” Kiris said, twisting away while Seren was distracted and running toward the tent. “I can reason with him!”

  Several of Marth’s Cyran soldiers turned with weapons ready as Kiris ran toward them. Seren was a step behind, feeling impotent with only her dagger. Marth turned, staring at them with his ghostly white eyes. Kiris halted in her tracks.

  “Hold, do not attack!” he shouted to the soldiers. “Kiris?” he called out.

  “Marth, what are you doing?” Kiris cried, eyeing the soldiers warily. “The halflings are no threat to you!”

  “They harbored our enemies, Kiris,” Marth said. “That makes them enemies.”

  “Kiris, get away from him,” Seren warned as she crouched behind a pile of overturned crates.

  “Seren?” Marth said with a faint sneer. “Is that you? You should have remained in Wroat, girl. Kiris, step away from the thief and join us. It is time to leave.”

  “Is what she said true, Marth?” Kiris asked, voice shaking. “Did you kill Llaine?”

  Marth frowned. His smooth face creased in thought, as if weighing his reply.

  “I am sorry, Kiris,” he said.

  A cone of green fire leapt from Marth’s wand. Seren leapt away, rolling between two small abandoned wagons. The smell of burning flesh seared the air. Seren looked back to see a twisting, burnt corpse curled in the road where Kiris had stood. Kiris hadn’t even had time to scream.

  “Kill Seren Morisse,” Marth commanded his remaining troops, then turned to board his ship as well.

  Seren searched desperately for a better hiding place as three soldiers charged after her. Seren dropped and rolled under a wagon as two crossbow bolts struck the wood with a dull thunk. The storm that had been building during their approach arrived with a fury. The sky exploded in rain. Savage winds tore across the village and Seren thanked the Sovereign Host for whatever coincidence had brought the sudden storm.

  Seren rolled to her feet on the other side of the wagon, only to find herself facing four more of the mercenaries. Disoriented by the sudden storm, they turned to face her sluggishly just as a peal of thunder rocked the sky.

  No, not thunder, Seren realized as the soldiers looked past her in terror. She felt a looming presence behind her. It was the metallic roar of a warforged. Omax held the other halfling wagon over his head with both hands. With a heave, he hurled it at the soldiers. Eraina, Koranth, and a half dozen mounted Ghost Talon hunters rallied to her side as well. The remaining Cyran soldiers stood in a line, readying their weapons. A bolt of lightning hammered down from Moon, blowing the other wagon to splinters and boiling the rain. A second bolt reduced Rossa’s tent to ashes.

  “Retreat,” Eraina called, scowling up at the airship. “We can’t fight that airship!”

  “Ghost Talons, take cover in the storm!” Koranth echoed, waving his javelin wildly.

  Seren fell back, following the others just as the Cyrans withdrew to their ship. She followed the halflings into the shadows beyond the burning village.

  “What about Dalan?” Seren shouted over the rain. She looked back over her shoulder to see the bright elemental ring of Moon lift into the sky and soar away.

  “There is nothing we can do for him now,” Omax said.

  “What have you done?” Koranth said, staring hopelessly at his village. “What have you brought upon us?”

  “Do not blame us for this, Koranth,” Eraina said. “Blame Rossa.”

  “I was speaking to Rossa, curse his ghost,” Koranth said. “How can the tribe recover from this loss?”

  Just as the halfling’s words faded, a second ring appeared in the sky above them, a blazing circle of familiar blue. As she saw the familiar figurehead in the center of the flame, Seren realized that perhaps the storm was no coincidence after all. Karia Naille swooped over the village, flying in broad circles as she surveyed the scene below. Seren ran to the center of the village, waving her hands wildly to get the captain’s attention. The others followed her as well, including Koranth and his halflings.

  The ship’s boarding ladder spilled from the hull and Tristam slid down in a flash, sword in hand. Zed dropped beside him, moving a great deal more stiffly with his wounded leg but still holding his weapon with deadly purpose. Seren saw Aeven standing at the rail, her golden hair illuminated by lightning. The winds whirled around her, and she gazed down at the burning village with a strangely cold expression. The look in Aeven’s eyes frightened Seren more than any obvious rage or fear ever could. Thunder cracked the sky again. Seren remembered Dalan’s warning about Aeven’s fierce temper.

  “Seren, are you hurt?” Tristam asked.

  “I’m fine,” she said, running to his side and sheathing her dagger, “but they killed Kiris and took Dalan with them.”

  “What?” Tristam said, flustered. “Kiris is dead? And why they take Dalan?”

  “He prob
ably wants to know how much we know,” Zed said. “Dalan’s dead, or he will be when Marth is done questioning him. There’s no way we can take on Moon, especially with our ship in the shape she is.”

  “Maybe not,” Tristam mused. “In this storm, Moon’s weapons won’t be as accurate or affective. If we can catch up quickly enough, we can board and rescue him.”

  “It’s suicide, Tristam,” Zed said.

  Tristam looked at the inquisitive. “Are you telling me I shouldn’t try?”

  “No,” Zed said. “I’m with you. Just wanted to be clear.”

  “You know that even if we made it aboard, Marth’s soldiers would kill us,” Gerith said. “There are too many of them, and only eight of us. That’s assuming we all board, of course, which would be stupid, since someone has to fly the ship.”

  “Koranth,” Zed said, turning to the halfling warrior.

  “I have heard everything, human,” Koranth said. “You have your army, if it means the Ghost Talons have their revenge.”

  Koranth stepped from his saddle, holding his javelin in both hands. Behind him had gathered a dozen of the tribe’s remaining hunters and warriors wielding whatever weapons they had salvaged from the village. Hatred burned in their eyes.

  “Everyone aboard,” Tristam said.

  That way,” Tristam said, pointing south through the raging storm.

  Pherris nodded and urged Karia Naille to greater speed. Aeven crouched on the rail of the ship near her figurehead, oblivious to the howling wind. Though the rain fell in sheets all around them, the airship and her passengers remained dry. The deck was crowded with Koranth’s halfling warriors and their glidewing steeds. The glidewings were agitated by the unfamiliar movement of the airship, so the halflings spent most of their time soothing the creatures. Blizzard glared disdainfully at the other creatures from his perch.

  “We’re getting closer,” Tristam said. “Definitely straight ahead, Pherris.”

  “Pretty lucky that you happened to enchant something Dalan brought with him so that you could track him,” Zed said.

  “Nothing lucky about it,” Tristam said, still staring into the storm. “I gave Dalan and everyone who went with him something so I could find them if something went wrong.”

  Seren’s hand moved to the silver bracelet the artificer had given her. For a moment, their eyes met and he smiled at her.

  Zed chuckled in approval.

  “We need to hurry, Pherris,” Tristam said. “I can’t sense him if he gets too far away and Moon already has a lead on us.”

  “The ship can’t give you much more, Tristam,” the gnome said.

  “I can,” Aeven said softly. The dryad lifted her arms to the heavens and tipped her head back. The winds shifted and the storm built behind them, pushing the airship forward.

  Tristam turned back to face the assembled crew. “Each of you take one of these,” Tristam said. He opened a small pouch at his belt, taking out several glass vials and handing them to Seren, Eraina, Omax, and Zed.

  “What are they?” Eraina asked, holding up the bottle and looking at the murky contents suspiciously.

  “Leaping potions,” Tristam answered. “The halflings have their glidewings, but we’ll need these to get aboard Moon and back. Save them for now; they don’t last long. And for the love of all that’s holy, don’t miss when you jump onto Moon.”

  “Will the potion work on Omax?” Seren asked, looking at the warforged dubiously.

  “We are creatures of magic,” Omax said. “We were built so that we could benefit from other such creations. I suspect that the only reason we were given mouths was so that we might drink potions.”

  “Can you board an airship with your leg, Zed?” Pherris asked.

  “My leg is fine,” Zed said, nodding briefly at Eraina. “Still a bit sore, but I wouldn’t miss the chance to get even with those Cyran bastards for dropping an airship on me.”

  “All well and good, but do we have a plan beyond ‘everyone jump and hope for the best?’ ” Eraina asked.

  “I’m coming to that,” Tristam said. “I lived on Moon for a while, so I have some idea what we’re heading into.” He took a roll of vellum from his cloak and unrolled it on the deck, revealing a detailed sketch of the Kenshi Zhann’s interior.

  “What if Marth has changed the layout since he took the ship?” Eraina asked.

  “Old information is better than nothing,” Tristam said. “Moon’s lightning cannon is its main weapon, but it’s front mounted. As long as Pherris keeps Karia Naille above and behind her, she won’t be able to fire it at us. Our ship is more maneuverable than theirs, so that shouldn’t be a problem. The Cyran soldiers will still have crossbows, but with Aeven’s storm they’ll have trouble hitting anything. We’ll use the clouds to approach unseen and, once we get close, Gerith and Koranth will lead the glidewings down Moon’s main deck.” He pointed at the diagram. “Once they’ve distracted the crew, the rest of us will leap onto the rear deck. Dalan is probably being held in one of the lower cabins, here.” He pointed again. “Omax, Eraina, and Zed will fight their way there and retrieve him. Once you have him, leap back to Karia Naille and send off a flare so that the halflings know to break off combat and leave. We’ll have the element of surprise and the Ghost Talons to help us, but with a ship as large as Moon, Marth’s crew likely still outnumbers us. We can’t afford to linger long. Wait ten minutes after we jump, Pherris. No longer. If anyone isn’t back by then, assume the worst.”

  “And once we have Dalan back, what’s to stop Moon from whirling about and firing that cannon at us?” Pherris asked.

  “That’s where Seren and I come in,” Tristam said. He pointed at the map again. “Marth will expect that we’ve come to rescue Dalan as soon as he’s aware of the attack, so Seren will help me sneak through the chaos into this room. This part of the lower cargo bay houses the main elemental containment chamber of Moon, the crystal housing that binds their elemental to this plane. While the rest of you do your part, Seren and I will sneak down there and I’ll shatter the chamber. Moon will bleed out power fast and drift to the ground, crippled. Is all of that clear?”

  The others all murmured their assent. Seren did likewise, impressed that Tristam could show such focus and leadership in a crisis.

  “What do we do about Marth?” Gerith asked.

  “Kill him,” Zed said. “Not like he doesn’t have it coming.”

  “Just do what you can, Gerith,” Tristam said. “We’re not really there to fight. Getting Dalan back and getting out safely is our real priority.” He turned back toward the bow of the ship. “Now get ready, everyone. We’re getting close.”

  A blur of light was visible in the distance, the glow of Moon’s elemental fire gleaming through the storm. Pherris turned the ship’s wheel and Karia Naille soared skyward. Churning mist covered the deck as the ship pierced the clouds. It was bitterly cold up here. Seren felt her teeth begin to chatter. The clouds grew thicker, until eventually even Moon’s flaming ring could barely be seen.

  “She’s just below us now,” Pherris said, and gestured to Gerith.

  The halfling climbed onto his glidewing and shouted to the others. Koranth mounted his own steed and lifted his javelin in one hand. The creatures leapt from the deck, extending their wings with a synchronized snap. They soared down through the clouds, and soon after they vanished she heard Koranth’s defiant cry.

  “For the honor of the Ghost Talon!”

  The sound of crashing steel and startled cries followed. Pherris worked the helm again and Karia Naille dipped down from the clouds. Moon appeared dangerously close, beneath and just ahead of them. Her forward deck was already covered with Cyran soldiers battling halfling hunters.

  “Now!” Tristam said, tossing aside the cork from his potion and throwing back the contents.

  Seren drank her potion, as did the others. She winced at the chalky taste, but she immediately felt lighter, more energetic.

  “It’s better with rum, but we were
fresh out,” Tristam said with a weak grin. “Just aim yourself at the other ship and jump. It’s easier than it looks.”

  “Unless you miss,” Zed said.

  “Yeah,” Tristam said. “Don’t miss.” He drew his sword and leapt from the deck.

  Seren stood and watched for a brief, awestruck moment. Tristam soared through the air between the two ships, moving with eerie grace. Omax and Zed were next. The massive warforged and the stocky man with his large sword looked almost comical as they soared through the void. Eraina patted Seren’s shoulder encouragingly and followed. Not allowing herself any more time to think about what she was about to do, Seren leapt from the ship’s deck.

  The wind rushed by with a keening howl. She felt weightless as she hung in the air, the distance so great it was difficult to tell she was moving at all. When she looked down, she saw only clouds. Then the moment was past, and she landed lightly on the deck of Moon. She looked back the way she had come, at Karia Naille hovering high above them.

  “Don’t worry,” Tristam said. “We don’t have to jump that. Pherris will move closer when he sees our signal.”

  “Unless we die,” Zed said, hefting his sword with both hands.

  “Yeah,” Tristam said. “Don’t die!”

  Zed cackled. “Good luck, Xain.”

  “Good luck, all of you,” Tristam answered as they stormed off across the deck. A Cyran soldier stepped around the corner and opened his mouth in alarm, but fell silent as a backhand slap from Omax sent him crashing limp into the wall.

  “I have another sketch of the map if you need to see the way, Seren,” Tristam said, reaching for his pocket.

  “Memorized it,” she said, moving past him and slipping through an open hatch in the deck.

  She dropped into a darkened bay stacked with crates and barrels. The sounds of the storm and fighting were greatly muffled, interrupted only by the noisy thud of Tristam landing beside her. She gestured for him to wait and stalked ahead. The bay narrowed to a smaller passage. It was similar to the design of Karia Naille, albeit on a larger scale. She pressed herself between a beam and the wall just as one of the cabin doors opened, releasing three startled soldiers who ran past toward the upper deck, oblivious to her. Once they were gone, she gestured to Tristam and they moved down the passage.