by Eliza Tilton
Contents
The Daath Chronciles Anthology
Broken Forest:Book Onexii
Chapter One1
Chapter Two6
Chapter Three9
Chapter Four12
Chapter Five17
Chapter Six20
Chapter Seven22
Chapter Eight25
Chapter Nine33
Chapter Ten35
Chapter Eleven37
Chapter Twelve46
Chapter Thirteen48
Chapter Fourteen52
Chapter Fifteen57
Chapter Sixteen59
Chapter Seventeen63
Chapter Eighteen66
Chapter Nineteen70
Chapter Twenty72
Chapter Twenty-One77
Chapter Twenty-two80
Chapter Twenty-Three82
Chapter Twenty-Four86
Chapter Twenty-Five89
Chapter Twenty-Six96
Chapter Twenty-Seven103
Chapter Twenty-Eight106
Chapter Twenty-Nine113
Chapter Thirty117
Chapter Thirty-One119
Chapter Thirty-Two123
Chapter Thirty-Three129
Chapter Thirty-Four135
Chapter Thirty-Five140
Chapter Thirty-Six147
Chapter Thirty-Seven152
Chapter Thirty-Eight155
Chapter Thirty-Nine158
Chapter Forty160
Chapter Forty-One165
Chapter Forty-Two167
Chapter Forty-Three171
Chapter Forty-Four174
Chapter Forty-Five178
Chapter Forty-Six181
Chapter Forty-Seven184
Chapter Forty-Eight194
Chapter Forty-Nine196
Chapter Fifty199
Chapter Fifty-One203
Chapter Fifty-Two209
Chapter Fifty-Three212
Chapter Fifity-Four217
Chapter Fifty-Five221
Chapter Fifty-Six225
Chapter Fifity-Seven228
Chapter Fifty-Eight233
Chapter Fifty-Nine238
Chapter Sixty244
Chapter Sixty-One248
Chapter Sixty-Two252
Chapter Sixty-Three257
Chapter Sixty-Four260
Chapter Sixty-Five262
Chapter Sixty-Six266
Chapter Sixty-Seven271
Chapter Sixty-Eight273
Epilogue275
Acknowledgments279
Wicked Path:Book Two281
Prolouge 282
Chapter One285
Chapter Two292
Chapter Three302
Chapter Four311
Chapter Five316
Chapter Six319
Chapter Seven325
Chapter Eight330
Chapter Nine337
Chapter Ten340
Chapter Eleven343
Chapter Twelve352
Chapter Thirteen361
Chapter Fourteen364
Chapter Fifteen368
Chapter Sixteen374
Chapter Seventeen379
Chapter Eighteen381
Chapter Nineteen385
Chapter Twenty390
Chapter Twenty-One399
Chapter Twenty-Two404
Chapter Twenty-Three409
Chapter Twenty-Four416
Chapter Twenty-Five421
Chapter Twenty-Six426
Chapter Twenty-Seven430
Chapter Twenty-Eight435
Chapter Twenty-Nine437
Chapter Thirty441
Chapter Thirty-One448
Chapter Thirty-Two454
Chapter Thirty-Three458
Chapter Thirty-Four463
Chapter Thirty-Five467
Chapter Thirty-Six473
Chapter Thirty-Seven476
Chapter Thirty-Eight484
Chapter Thirty-Nine487
Chapter Forty494
Chapter Forty-One499
Chapter Forty-Two504
Chapter Forty-Three507
Chapter Forty-Four517
Chapter Forty-Five527
Chapter Forty-Six536
Epilogue538
Acknowledgments542
Deadly dance:A Daath Short544
Chapter One545
Chapter Two549
Chapter Three554
Chapter Four564
Chapter Five574
Chapter Six578
Crimson Tides:Book Three583
Chapter One 584
Chapter Two 590
Chapter Three 595
Chapter Four 602
Chapter Five606
Chapter Six609
Chapter Seven613
Chapter Eight619
Chapter Nine 626
Chapter Ten630
Chapter Eleven636
Chapter Twelve640
Chapter Thirteen 644
Chapter Fourteen646
Chapter Fifteen651
Chapter Sixteen654
Chapter Seventeen656
Chapter Eighteen661
Chapter Nineteen667
Chapter Twenty 674
Chapter Twenty-One 682
Chapter Twenty-Two686
Chapter Twenty-Three692
Chapter Twenty-Four695
Chapter Twenty-Five698
Chapter Twenty-Six701
Chapter Twenty-Seven708
Chapter Twenty-Eight712
Chapter Twenty-Nine720
Chapter Thirty727
Chapter Thirty-One733
Chapter Thirty-Two737
Chapter Thirty-Three740
Chapter Thirty-Four743
Chapter Thirty-Five747
Chapter Thirty-Six751
Chapter Thirty-Seven756
Chapter Thirty-Eight759
Chapter Thirty-Nine762
Chapter Forty768
Chapter Forty-One774
Chapter Forty-Two782
Chapter Forty-Three786
Chapter Forty-Four790
Chapter Forty-Five795
Chapter Forty-Five 801
Chapter Forty-Seven805
Chapter Forty-Eight808
Deceptively Beautiful:811
A Daath Wedding
Chapter One813
Chapter Two818
Chapter Three823
Chapter Four828
Chapter Five832
Chapter Six837
Chapter Seven841
Chapter Eight849
Chapter Nine857
Chapter Ten860
Chapter Eleven864
Chapter Twelve869
Chapter Thirteen875
Chapter Fourteen881
Chapter Fifteen890
Chapter Sixteen896
Chapter Seventeen901
Chapter Eighteen904
Chapter Nineteen911
Chapter Twenty916
Chapter Twenty-One919
Thank you for Reading924
The Daath
Chronciles
Anthology
Broken Forest
Wicked path
Deadly dance
Crimson Tides
Deceptively Beautiful
The Daath Chronicles
© 2019 Eliza Tilton http://elizatilton.com
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means including photocopying, recording, or information storage and retrieval without permission in writing from the author.
Orginal Book Cover Art by Eugene Teplitsky
http://eugeneteplitsky.deviantart.com
Anthology Cover by Eliza Tilton
www.elizatilton.com
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Printed in the U.S.A
TO SM
Broken Forest:Book One
Chapter One
Avikar
I slid my feet into the hard leather boots, hating the feel of the rough material and what it stood for—I was a slave, or at least I felt like one. Trapped and overworked. The rooster crowed again, reminding me of the hour, but I didn’t care. Staring at the empty cot across from mine, I wondered if things would be different if my brother were still alive.
“Avikar,” my father said. “You get your hide outside before that blasted bird croaks again!”
Arguing with “the king of the farm” would only result in extra chores and no supper. I finished lacing my boots and strapped on my belt. The wooden floorboards creaked beneath me, billowing dust into my sisters’ room. I grabbed the small ladder and climbed out of my loft. In the common room, Mother kneaded dough while Calli ate at the table. After washing my hands in the bin, I slumped into the chair next to Calli and grabbed a bowl of rue.
“Where did Father go?” I said. Two empty seats surrounded the table. One for Father and one for Jimri.
“Poppa’s outside,” Calli replied in between bites. “You’re late, again.” She swung her legs back and forth underneath the table.
Mother poured me a cup of fresh milk. “You all right, honey?”
“Just tired,” I said, and dunked a piece of fanna into the clay bowl. The dense bread absorbed the onion-flavored liquid, and I shoved it in my mouth.
Disbelief filled my mother’s eyes. She always seemed to know when I was lying, but she nodded and left me alone.
Jeslyn walked in carrying two wicker baskets. She pouted at Calli. “Calli, you’re not dressed yet?” She fidgeted with her dress. “There’s too much to do today. I wanted to be gone already.”
Calli stuffed the rest of her food into her mouth and jumped off the chair.
“Don’t run while you’re eating!” Mother yelled after her, but Calli was already halfway to her room.
Jeslyn looked my way, her brows narrowing. For the fifth time, she said, “Don’t forget, Avi, keep Derrick busy until supper. He doesn’t know about tonight.”
She and my best friend were courting.
I guzzled my milk and watched Mother scurry around the table, wiping off crumbs. “Did you ask Father if I could quit early?”
My father believed in a full day’s work. Anything less was unacceptable.
Mother collected the empty bowls. “Yes, you can leave after the stalls are clean.”
Only my perfect sister could get me out of chores. Poppa’s little girl.
I left the remainder of my bland food and hustled out the backdoor.
Jumper, my father’s right hand man, exited the outhouse. The old fellow wore a hat too big for his thin leathered face. “Morning,” I said.
“Morning, Avikar, Mr. Kingston will be here in an hour. We need that mare in the corral now.”
I pushed open the large barn door; stuffy heat slapped my cheeks. Twenty hungry horses filled those stalls, all of them waiting for me to feed them. One of the other farm hands had already taken the palomino mare out. I grabbed her reins and led her outside.
The horse would fetch Father a high price. Her silky mane glistened like liquid ivory, matching the stripe down her nose. Standing at nearly seventeen hands—and a solid eleven hundred stones—she was a beauty and one of our best.
The horse neighed, and I rubbed her side. “Pretty soon you’ll be making some folks a lot of coin.” She snorted in reply.
“I know. Running in a race isn’t the same as running free.”
Father and Jumper stood on the outside of the corral. I guided the mare through the gate and closed the latch behind her. She trotted around the enclosed circle, and I stepped onto the bottom rung of the wooden fence to get a better view.
A sharp whistle caught my attention. Father, wearing his usual scowl, pointed at the stables.
“Yeah, I’m going.” As I contemplated letting the pigs out in Mother’s garden, I thought about one thing.
One day, I’d leave and never look back.
The suns blazed, engulfing me in heat. I threw the rake on the ground, wiped the sweat off my brow, and pushed the hair off of my face. My hair always bothered me while I worked, and on the really hot days, I thought of cutting it all off. I’d never do that, though. The village girls had a thing for my auburn hair. They said the color made my pale-green eyes stand out, giving them a haunting effect.
In front of me lay rows of round flat heat-dried dung. I’d become so used to the biting smell it only partially stung my nose. A haze from the cakes hovered above the ground. At this time of day, the suns were directly overhead. Watching. The two giant eyes of The Creator.
Stretching, I flexed my sore muscles, examining the definition in my arms. I’d gotten bigger in the past year. The one good thing about working on the farm.
I wanted to see if Mr. Kingston bought that mare, but stopping to ask would only aggravate Father, and I was already on his bad side. He said I had a lazy attitude. I didn’t. I just never pictured living out my days raking manure. This isn’t what I wanted, but what I wanted had died with Jimri.
With my chores finally finished, I headed down the dirt road that would take me into the village. Scattered clouds dotted the sky, and a cool wind passed through the trees. I whistled while I walked, enjoying the fresh air. The village was almost half a day’s journey from home, but on days like this, I didn’t mind the long walk.
Flanking the road were tall oak trees, budding with leaves. Their limbs reaching high into the sky. I gazed up at them. Lakewood was known for its green hues and ancient oaks. Even though we lived inland, streams from the Great River passed through here and intertwined with Middle Lake, the largest lake in Tarrtainya. I wondered what the other eleven lands looked like and if they were all full of Lakewood’s richness.
It was late-afternoon when I arrived in the village. Without the shade of the trees, the suns heated the air. We were a small community, but close. Thatched cottages wove in between storehouses, the wooden church, and small school house. Far in the distance, I could see the grey stones of Lord Tyre’s castle. We were lucky to have a lord as kind as he. Again I told myself I ought to be thankful for where I was, but I couldn’t. Not any longer.
I reached the Blacksmith’s shop and peered into the shop’s soot-filled windows, but only saw Derrick’s father speaking with a customer. Strolling around back, I found Derrick banging a piece of metal.
“You ready to go fishing?” I said. The thought of going to the river, standing knee high in cool water, was just what I needed.
Derrick slammed his hammer three more times before leaning it against the bench. “No fishing.”
“No fishing? Why?”
Derrick turned around, smirking. I
knew that look. He was up to something.
“I’ve got other plans,” he said.
As long as I kept him busy until supper, it didn’t matter what we did. “All right, let’s go.”
Derrick had me so preoccupied with his story of Marsha Long getting caught in her parents’ barn with Philip Baker that I didn’t pay attention to where we were walking. Grazing cows nibbled at grass next to a winding freshwater stream. Large hay bales dotted the open land. In the distance, a silo towered over the surrounding trees. We were by the Wilke’s farm—and just beyond that, the lake—the last place I’d seen my baby brother.
Chapter Two
AVIKAR
Derrick would never get me to the lake. I’d avoided it for the past two years, but this was close, very close.
“What are we doing here?”
“We’re entering the match during the festival,” Derrick replied.
I shook my head. I’d sworn off fighting. “No.”
Derrick folded his arms. “You can’t keep sulking around forever.
It’s been two years.”
I glared at him. “I know how long it’s been.” Derrick’s body shifted into a fighting stance.
“Forget it. I told you. I’m done fighting.” And it was true.
Fighting was the reason I hadn’t been watching Jimri.
Before I could push my way past his stocky frame, he punched me in the chest. The shock of the hit dazed me, and he followed with a left jab. He grinned at me as if this were a friendly spar, like it was old times. But it wasn’t, and I couldn’t pretend.
He fired three more light jabs, hitting me in the chest and shoulder.
“I’m not fighting!” I pushed him away.
He smiled and slapped my right cheek. I took a deep breath. Adrenaline pumped through my body. “Don’t push me, Derrick.”
He winked and smacked my other cheek. It took every drop of self-control not to wallop him in the face.
I balled my fists. “You know I won’t.”
“Then I guess you’ll be my punching bag for the day.” He jabbed me once more and then came at me with a right hook.
I dodged the throw. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I have to.” He charged into my stomach.
Once we were on the grass, he spun around my side, wrapping me in a headlock. I slipped my palm underneath his arm, trying to break his hold.
