“We thought we’d lost you,” Lyra said. “I have no idea how you survived that…” She smiled. “The goddess must really like you.”
Aric sat up straighter. “Well,” he croaked, his voice coming out in a rasp, “from where I’m standing, it sure doesn’t feel like she does.”
Every inch of his body ached. His muscles were sore, his arms and legs were covered in bruises and cuts, visible through the rags his clothes had turned into. Only his glowstone and dragon scale cuirass, which he always wore beneath his vest, looked intact.
Leth tapped Aric’s knee. “I’m glad you’re okay, cap.”
“Me too.” Aric smiled. “Is everyone else okay?”
Leth, Lyra, and Eliran exchanged a couple of uncomfortable glances and Aric immediately braced himself for the worse.
“Jullion didn’t make it,” Leth replied, staring at the sand. “The crew of the Heron also lost five people, including captain Griggor.”
Aric dug his fingers into the sand, squeezing the grit tightly. “Any injured?” he asked after a moment, voice cracking.
“Nothing serious.”
“Okay…” Aric nodded to himself. “We need to start organizing. How are we on food and water?” He pushed himself up with a grimace, Leth and Eliran slinging arms under his elbows to help him up.
“We’re still going through the wreck, but there isn’t much we can use,” Leth replied. He paused. “There’s something else, captain. Tharius spotted a dragon less than half an hour ago. It flew behind a mountain, though, and we’re positive it didn’t see us.”
“Goddess damn it!” Aric scanned the beach. “We’re too exposed here. We have to get inland.”
“Already sent Clea and Dothea to scout ahead. They found a small cave not far from here.”
“Good. Then we need to start moving the sailors there now. Is Naquad in charge of them?”
Leth nodded. “He’s been cooperative so far, even if he wasn’t too excited when you washed ashore.”
“Well, I’m not blaming him for that. Just tell him about the dragon. Only our people are to remain out in the open, and only until we’re sure we got everything we can out from the wreck.”
“Yes, captain.” Leth turned and started back toward the rest of the survivors. There was a moment of silence until Lyra nodded awkwardly and left after Leth, leaving Aric and Eliran alone.
Aric touched his chest. His lungs felt on fire, and he was struggling to keep himself from drawing bigger and bigger breaths as instinct told him to. “This… breathing thing. Does anyone else feel it?”
“We all do.” Eliran looked inland. A tall mountain peak rose in the middle of a black forest. “I think it’s this place.”
Aric followed her eyes. “And what place is this, exactly? I know my geography, Eliran. There wasn’t supposed to be any island where we were sailing.”
“That’s because there isn’t one. Do you still have my Seeker bracelet?”
That was a good question. He had kept the artifact in his vest, which was now in tatters. By some miracle, however, the pocket containing the bracelet was intact, and Aric’s fingers found it wrapped in a muddy patch of sand.
“We’re in that Dancing Isle the sailors kept talking about, aren’t we?” Aric asked, handing her the bracelet, which wiggled in the air, pointing towards the tall mountain.
Eliran nodded faintly. “I think so.”
“Alright, what do you know about it? Why would Astoreth come looking for it?”
“Well,” Eliran sighed, eyes lost in the line of trees at the edge of the beach, their canopies as still as if they were a painting with no wind to ruffle their leaves, “if I remember my theology correctly – and remember, these things vary depending on your sources – the Dancing Isle is the resting place of one Kallax, god of death.”
“Ah… that certainly explains Astoreth’s interest. What else do you know about it? Besides the fact that it seems to… I don’t know, pop in and out of existence.”
Eliran turned to him. “Aric, the island doesn’t pop in and out of existence. It pops from the world of the living to the world of the dead.”
* * *
There wasn’t much in the wreckage they could use. A small barrel of water, some canvas and rope, a few blankets, an assortment of pots, pans, and tools, and, finally, a crate of bread drenched in sea water. The group itself was in terrible shape, especially the Heron’s crew. Broken arms, twisted ankles, and fractured skulls abounded, not to mention the dreadful overall mood, which was what worried Aric the most. A few wounds wouldn’t stop most men and women, but a broken spirit could be the death of an entire army.
With Nahir’s help, Aric carried Jullion’s body from the beach to the cave and the company gathered around him, sullen looks fixed on the rocky ground.
“Should we prepare a pyre for him?” Tharius asked.
“We can’t,” Aric replied. “It would draw attention to us. In our present state, we need to stay hidden.” He sighed and placed a hand on Jullion’s cold forehead. “Don’t worry Jules. As soon as we’re done with Astoreth, we’ll build you a proper pyre. The flames will be so tall the goddess herself will feel their heat.”
“Fire take him!” the company said in a mechanical unison.
“Athan, there’s some linen from the wreck,” Aric said. “It’s still drying, but you could use it to wrap him in a shroud.”
“I will. Should we say a few words?”
“Sure. I’ll start.” Aric took a deep breath. “Jullion and I didn’t always get along. But he always thought with his own head, and when his best friend, Ashur, stubbornly refused to let our feud die, Jullion didn’t listen to him. I’m proud to have earned his respect and his friendship, and I’m proud to have hunted next to him.”
Orisius wiped a tear from his eye and sniffed. “Jullion was great. No one could tell a dirty story like him.” He paused, smiling as if one such story had just occurred to him. “I know he made up most of the stories he told me, even though he told them as if they’d happened to him, but I also know he only did it because it made me laugh.” He paused again, his smile now gone. “After Aric was made captain, and he slowly started making friends among the rest of us, he could have easily shunned Ashur. Goddess knows we would have all liked him better for it. But that wasn’t Jullion. He wouldn’t abandon his friends, the same way he didn’t abandon us when Ashur did. I’m gonna miss him.”
He looked down and a tear ran down his cheek. Irenya wrapped her arms around Orisius and he buried his face in her long, golden hair.
Tharius cleared his throat. “Jullion always refused to share his story of how he joined the Guild, just like many of you. But he did tell it to me once. We were on night watch duty, near the Makhtar Mesa. He may have been drunk.” He looked around the group. “I think… I think he would like me to share it with you guys, now that he’s gone.
“During the Purge, his parents took in some magelings on the run. Hid them away in their basement. But then the paladins came and started burning every house in the village, looking for them. Jullion was just a kid. He got scared, and he told the paladins about the young mages hiding in his house. That day, he became an orphan. The paladins burned down his house with his parents and the magelings inside. The rest of the village shunned him, and Jullion fled to Ragara. He begged at the temple door, stole, worked the docks, until he fell ill, seriously ill, and was picked up by the Temple Graces. Everyone expected him to die, but he didn’t. In fact, his recovery was so fast, the holy sisters branded it a miracle and offered him a place as an acolyte. But during his stay at the Temple of Ragara, Jullion witnessed things he shouldn’t have. He threatened to tell everyone that not only were the priests and priestesses sleeping with each other, they were also bedding the younger acolytes. The next day, Jullion was inside a prison wagon, headed for Lamash.” Tharius raised his head. “I’m proud to have hunted next to him.”
The others nodded gravely and silence fell over them.
“He
was terrible with the spear, though,” Trissa added. “You couldn’t trust him to distract a dragon if his hair was on fire.”
There were a couple of timid chuckles.
“Remember that time he lost the tip of his spear and kept whacking the dragon’s hind legs with just the pole?” Ergon asked.
This time, the chuckles were more numerous. Some even laughed.
“Oh, that was the Northern Blue Back, wasn’t it?” Nahir asked. “Beast of a dragon, that one.”
There were a couple more anecdotes before the group went quiet. One by one, they said their goodbyes and stepped away from Jullion’s body, leaving Trissa, Nahir, and Athan to wrap him in a shroud with some final prayers.
Aric stepped to the cave opening and studied the sky. It looked the same as when he had woken up on the beach. How could that be? At the very least, one hour had passed. Twilight didn’t last that long.
“Captain, a word.”
Aric turned and saw Lyra. “Everything alright?”
“It’s the wounded,” she replied in a low voice, keeping the issue between them. “Our people are fine, but some of the wounds on the Heron’s crew don’t look so good. Infections are starting to spread. If I had my kit, I’m sure I could take care of it, but…” She opened her arms helplessly.
Aric nodded. “There have to be some herbs on this island you can use. I’ll get on it. For now, keep an eye on the wounds and do what you can.”
Little Lyra nodded. “What about you? Are you okay?” She touched Aric’s hand.
“I’m fine,” Aric replied stiffly.
“You sure? I should take a look at those cuts.”
Carefully, Aric removed his hand from Lyra’s soft grip. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
“Right. Of course. I’m sorry.” She turned around and fled.
Aric sighed, then refocused. There was a lot to be done. “First mate Naquad, Eliran, and Leth, join me outside, please?”
Aric stepped out of the cave and the others joined him shortly.
“Alright, first things first,” Aric began. “We need to ensure our survival. We have a shelter, but now we need food, water, and medicine. Leth, I want you to create search parties in pairs, but leave at least four people to watch over the camp. And have Lyra brief everyone on the herbs she needs, what to look for.” Leth gave him a nod and Aric turned to Eliran. “We’re also going to need your magic. How is your runium stock?”
The mage showed them a flask, a red, metallic liquid glittering within. “My stash is at the bottom of the sea, I’m afraid. I’m down to my last.”
“You’ll have to make it count, then,” Aric said, shrugging. “Finally, first mate Naquad, I would like for you to choose from your crew those who are able to assist with the searches. Give Lieutenant Leth their names so he can—”
“And who in the mother’s name decided you were in charge here?” Naquad interrupted.
Aric sighed. “Listen, we don’t have time for this. I can understand how you feel, but you have to believe me. Our deaths are nothing in the face of what this woman will do if we don’t stop her.”
“Aric is right, first-mate,” Eliran said. “You can’t imagine just how important our mission is.”
“Enlighten me, then.” Naquad stubbornly crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Who is this woman? What is she trying to do?”
Eliran exchanged a glance with Aric. “She is a mage, of sorts. As for what she wants… it would take too long to explain, but I fear it will soon become quite clear.”
“There’s something else,” Leth chimed in. “For now, we’re stranded on this island, which isn’t helping with the overall mood of the group. But if Astoreth is here, then so is her ship. If we can find it—”
“We find our ride home,” Aric finished. “Excellent! Make sure you put one of the search parties on it.”
“I’ll look for the ship myself,” Leth said.
Aric looked at the sailor. “Are we good, Naquad?”
The man stood still for a moment. “My sailors will help with the searches, but our priority is staying alive and finding a ship to get us out of here.”
Aric looked at Eliran. “That leaves the two of us to look for Astoreth’s party. Your bracelet should lead us right to them.”
The mage reached into a pocket and produced her Seeker bracelet, the glowstone shard pointing deeper inland. “She’s expecting us, so I suppose we shouldn’t keep her waiting.”
“You mean you’re walking into a trap?” Naquad asked. “Willingly?”
“Why not? We walk willingly into dragon lairs, too,” Aric replied.
“It’s a question of style,” Leth added.
Eliran chuckled.
“A question of insanity, maybe…” Naquad mumbled, turning around. “I’ll check on my people. See who’s in condition to help.”
“Thank you,” Aric said to the first mate’s back, receiving a dismissive hand wave.
“Good luck, captain,” Leth said.
Aric nodded. “You, too.”
Leth started after Naquad, leaving Eliran and Aric alone. The two of them exchanged a glance and Aric was about to say something when someone jumped from a tall boulder and landed with a thud next to them. Aric nearly drew his sword, but he recognized Darpallion in time.
“I’m going with you,” the bard said with a grin. “I’m sure you can use the help.”
“Merciful mother,” Aric let out, taking his hand off his sword’s hilt. “I could have killed you.”
“You were eavesdropping?” Eliran asked.
“Are we keeping secrets, now?” Darpallion replied, feigning injury. Eliran rolled her eyes.
“You’re not coming with us,” Aric said. “Leth needs as many people as possible here. Report to him.”
Darpallion saluted. “Yes, captain.”
Aric shook his head and took off.
“Don’t be childish,” Eliran told Darpallion, stepping after Aric.
“Funny you should say that,” the bard said to their backs. “How old are you exactly, master hunter?”
Aric said nothing and simply kept walking, branches and fallen leaves crunching beneath his boots. In his chest, next to the sense of breathlessness the island seemed to cause, something else began to burn.
* * *
The entire island seemed not to belong to this world. Eliran had been to every corner of the empire, from the frozen mountains of Fausta to the sizzling desert of the Mahar, the misty marshes of her home region of Niveh to the green pastures of Thepia, but she had never seen anything quite like this. Everything looked gray, from the muddy soil to the thick tree trunks. The dim dusk light had trouble filtering through the thick canopies, making it hard to see anything under the trees. When the leaves from low hanging branches brushed across her face or arms, they felt slimy and sticky, making her skin crawl.
However, by far the creepiest thing was the absence of sound. There were no leaves rustling in the wind, no birds chirping or small animals skittering over the detritus of the forest floor. Just a stale, dead silence.
After about half an hour of following her Seeker bracelet deeper and deeper inland, she saw Aric raise an arm and stopped. The dragon hunter pointed to their right and went in that direction. A few moments later, Eliran heard the soft trickle of a brook. She almost giggled out loud. Goddess, was she thirsty! When had she last drunk any water?
Kneeling on the pebbled shore, they dove their water skins underwater. Eliran barely waited for her own to get half full before bringing it to her lips. She drank and drank, each mouthful larger than the previous, then stared at her water skin in disbelief. In front of her, Aric had a similar look.
The water felt like… nothing. Like taking air in instead of a liquid. There was no sweet flavor, no freshness coating her throat.
Aric looked at the brook’s clear water running beside them in utter confusion.
“Just drink a bit more,” Eliran told him, wishing she sounded more confident than sh
e felt. “We need to stay hydrated.” She drove her point further by taking a couple more sips herself and was happy to see Aric do the same, albeit reluctantly.
Where in the mother’s name did I bring us? she wondered.
Aric sat on the polished surface of a rock. “We should rest a little,” he said.
With a nod, Eliran sat opposite Aric and began massaging her legs. They felt sore, some temporary relief coming as her fingers dug into her muscles.
“So…” Aric said, hesitating. “You and Darpallion…” The words hung in the air as Aric tried to find a way to finish his thought.
“A mistake,” Eliran replied. “An old mistake. Everyone makes them. I’m sure you’ve made some yourself.”
Aric blinked. “Sure,” he said eventually. “Of course I’ve made mistakes. Plenty of them. I mean not plenty. You know what I mean.”
Eliran tried to keep herself from smiling and failed. How could a guy be brave enough to hunt dragons, to follow her on a suicide mission like this one, and still blush for so little?
“Listen, you’re a sweet guy. Darpallion doesn’t understand that, so he’ll do what idiots do. He’ll mock you for it. Just ignore him.”
“Sweet…” Aric echoed, testing the word.
His thoughts were interrupted by an echo of a voice and their heads snapped in its direction.
Another followed it, this time crisper. Someone was talking, but too far away for the words to be discernible. Silently, Aric made a motion for her to follow and darted off with his head low. They climbed the slope to a low ridge, the slippery ground forcing them to use their hands as well as their feet. A willow stood at the top of the ridge and they slid beneath its lowest branches, Eliran shrinking away from the moist, sticky leaves.
A clearing opened before them, revealing the source of the sounds. At least ten tents gathered around a bonfire, dozens of black robed figures kneeling in a tight formation before the flames.
The Shadow Of Fallen Gods Page 27
