Pursuit of Shadows (The Keeper Chronicles Book 2)

by JA Andrews

  The vitalle released with the fire and knocked Will forward to his knees. Talen flapped his wings, panicked, but Will shot a burst of calmness at the bird. The ground trembled beneath him and the crack of rocks splitting filled the air.

  “Get up!” Hal stopped in front of Will, holding one of his still-tied hands awkwardly behind him. Will grabbed it and pulled himself up, shaking his head to clear the shock of so much power. He looked up and saw Alaric bent over too, grabbing onto Evangeline for support.

  Smoke poured around him, tinged red with firelight, swirling until he could barely see Hal right in front of him.

  Will took a step. An overwhelming anger slithered into his chest. It wasn’t human anger. It was old and savage.

  He slammed himself shut, trying to close it off, but the emotions plowed into him. A desire to burn and kill and destroy. The glory of the sky, the strength of wings that ruled the wind.

  And a gnawing, driving hunger to burn someone. A single, mindless goal.

  Will dropped to his knees again, trying to shove them out, but the emotions filled him until there was nothing else—only power and strength and greed.

  Talen screeched, but it sounded distant. Voices called to him, but they meant nothing. The world meant nothing.

  Rough hands grabbed him, trying to pull him to his feet. Someone shouted. Will squeezed his eyes shut.

  “Will.” Sora’s voice cut through the noise and he opened his eyes to see her face right in front of his, pale and frightened. “Will, you have to run.”

  The rush of power filled him, drowning out everything else, and Sora’s face glowed red in the light from the dragon fire. Heat seared against his back.

  Sora ducked down, leaning against him and pulling his head down against her shoulder. He could feel her trembling as the whole world shook. He caught a glimpse of the rocks behind them glowing like molten copper. The forest blazed with red flames, black smoke billowed around him, hiding the beast.

  The dragon broke through the smoke above him and swept past. His wings stretched over the treetops and brushed the cliff, a jagged sheet of red tipped with spikes. The dragon’s belly glittered dark red, reflecting countless glitters of firelight. One clawed foot tore out a huge pine and flung it down the slope.

  Uphill, the others raced for shelter, and the tiny part of Will’s brain that could think stared at them in horror, waiting for the flames to envelop them. But the dragon launched up into the blue sky, dwindling to a small shape and the tide of emotions receded.

  “Will, please get up.”

  He shoved at the emotions of the dragon, but it was like pushing back the ocean.

  “Will,” she pleaded, pulling on his arm.

  Will tried to focus on Sora’s face through the chaos. For the fleetest moment he felt an emotion of his own—envy at the fact that she would never feel this.

  His mind snagged on the idea of her coldness and hollowness. He grabbed her arm, squeezing his eyes shut again and instead of pushing at the swirling mass inside him, he opened himself up to her. There was none of her normal emptiness. There was only cold terror. But it was a human terror that fit inside him. Something he could understand.

  He gulped in a breath. The taste of melting rock stung his throat. He opened his eyes and saw Sora.

  At his look she sank down in relief. “There you are.”

  Talen flapped agitated on his arm and he pushed the best semblance of peace he could at the bird. The hawk quieted somewhat. Sora pulled Will to his feet and he stumbled forward. Alaric and Douglon had started down the slope toward him, but now they turned and ran back. Douglon waved them on, his face turned up to the sky. The dragon, so high he had shrunk to a small silhouette, give one last beat of his wings and with a lazy arc, roll over into a dive. Straight toward them.

  Sora craned her head up. “That dragon is after you!”

  “Me,” he demanded, his breath ragged. “Maybe it’s after you!”

  She spared him the shortest glare and raced forward.

  They reached the entrance to the tunnel, no more than a crack, barely wide enough to fit through. Douglon stood at the entrance with his axe blocking the door, shouting at Hal.

  “Let him in,” Alaric yelled.

  Douglon glared at the enormous man before yanking his axe out of the way and giving Hal a shove.

  Evangeline stared up at the dragon, a puzzled look on her face.

  “Go!” Douglon yelled.

  “Evangeline,” Alaric called, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the door.

  “I know that dragon…” she said, bemused.

  Will glanced at Alaric, but he looked as surprised as Will at the words.

  “You don’t know any dra—” Alaric snapped his head upwards. His eyes widened. “You might know it, love, but it doesn’t know you. Please come.” He pulled at her hand, drawing her toward the rocks.

  She shook her head and blinked. The two of them ran into the darkness. Sora slipped through after them and Will pushed between the rough sides of the crack, holding Talen near his chest and hearing Douglon’s feet behind him. A rush of power flared outside and flames licked into the tunnel.

  Douglon heaved something and the opening slammed shut, blocking out the flames and dropping them into complete darkness.

  “Farther in!” Douglon cried. “Run!”

  The ceiling above Will gave a low crack, and spreading his hands out to feel the walls, he ran into the darkness.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  A low rumble shook the tunnel walls. Will's heart pounded thrumming down even into his fingers as he ran. His eyes stretched open in the blackness, aching for some light, flickering from one formless bit of black to another.

  Talen perched on his glove, still calm, but Will curled his fist closer to his body, afraid he might crash the bird into some unexpected rock. There were no unexpected rocks, though. The tunnel had the finished sort of feel that came from dwarven skill, as if any irregularity in the wall was a decision of style. The floor beneath his feet sloped gently downwards.

  “Not far.” Douglon’s words echoed from behind. “There’s an outpost just ahead.”

  Another resonant crack of splitting stone sent a shiver through the walls, but weaker than the last, farther behind him. Proof that they were making some progress in the black.

  A dragon. Killien had sent a dragon after him.

  A dim burnt-orange glow outlined Sora, and a flicker of fear shot into Will that it was dragon fire, before he realized it was only glimmer moss. Will’s eyes latched onto the light and he stood straighter, seeing the vague outline of the arched tunnel.

  In half a dozen steps it opened up into a wide cavern too much like a room to be called a cavern. It was domed, rising smoothly to a wide medallion carved out of the rock in the center of the ceiling. Shelves lined one wall, stocked with small crates and casks. A long table filled the middle of the room. Three maps were set out along the middle, their corners pinned by smooth black rocks. A trickling noise echoed around the room and the mosslight caught on a thin line of water sparkling down the far wall. Piles of sleeping furs were rolled against another wall.

  Patlon leaned against the table watching everyone run in. Rass sat huddled next to him, looking like a little snip of grass that had gotten terribly lost. Alaric wrapped his arm around Evangeline, a bit off to the side. The naturalness of it was almost more jarring than the fact Alaric had a wife. Sora walked along the shelves, looking at the supplies. Hal stood over near the bedrolls, his hands still tied behind his back,.

  Douglon jogged into the room. “How often are you Keepers attacked by dragons?”

  “Before this one it had been a hundred and twelve years since any Keeper saw a dragon,” Alaric protested.

  “This is the second one in a matter of weeks.” Douglon dropped his axe on the table with a crash. “And that feels too often to me.”

  “But this was the same dragon as the last one.”

  Douglon shook his head. “I
t tried to kill me twice. Counts as two. You Keepers should focus a little of your study time on how to fight them. Because you’re useless.”

  “It’s a dragon!” Alaric said. “Everyone is useless against a dragon.”

  “Not everyone,” Douglon said.

  “I think you only get to count one,” Evangeline said. “This dragon wasn’t trying to kill you. I think it was trying to kill Will. Or maybe Sora.”

  “There were dragon flames shot in my direction,” Douglon said, sinking down onto the end of the bench. “I’m counting two.”

  Alaric turned to Will. “Evangeline’s right, it did seem to be after you.”

  “It might have been,” Will answered. “I may have made Killien, the Torch of the Morrow Clan, a little angry. And he may have recently come across an opportunity to use a dragon.” He explained about Killien and the attack by the Sunn Clan. “I knew he was mad.” He shook his head and admitted, “I didn’t realize he was send-a-dragon mad.”

  “Good thing the dwarves were here to save you,” Douglon pointed out.

  “He’ll know the dragon didn’t kill you,” Hal said. “He’ll keep sending more rangers. It’s only a matter of time until he finds these tunnels.”

  “No one finds dwarf tunnels,” Patlon said.

  “Who would want to?” Rass’s voice came muffled from her arms.

  Douglon walked over and sat next to her. “It’s not that bad.” He pulled a tiny, bright red gem out of a pocket and set it on the table in front of her. “Under here there are all sorts of treasures.”

  Rass picked up the stone and examined it, turning it, letting it glimmer in the light of the moss.

  Will settled Talen on a long wooden peg at the end of the shelves. “How’d you find me?” he asked Alaric.

  “That’s also thanks to us,” Patlon answered.

  “The dwarves had been monitoring the movements of frost goblins this spring,” Alaric answered, “because they’d been more active than normal. Then about a week ago they saw the goblins attack a clan.”

  “The Morrow,” Will agreed.

  “And it seemed the frost goblins were magically forced back, chased into their warrens by something the dwarves couldn’t see.” Alaric dropped his gaze to Will’s wrapped hand. “When their reports came back, we were in Duncave clearing up some”—he shot an annoyed look at Douglon—“misunderstandings, and the report made me worried there was some unusually strong stonesteep traveling with the Morrow. King Horgoth agreed to have the dwarves watch the clan, and imagine our surprise when they overheard two Roven rangers talking about a Keeper.” Alaric paused and looked at Will expectantly.

  “I was…” Will glanced at Sora who was watching him with an expressionless face. “Invited to join the Morrow on their migration north after Killien learned I was a storyteller.”

  “From Gulfind,” Hal pointed out. “We wouldn’t have invited a liar from Queensland.”

  “There may have been some subterfuge,” Will admitted.

  Alaric grinned. “You infiltrated a Roven clan?”

  “Yes,” Hal answered.

  “That sounds more planned than it was,” Will said.

  “The dwarves followed the Morrow north,” Alaric continued, “and saw you imprisoned in a small rift. We were working on how to get you out when the Sweep caught fire and one of the scouts saw you escape. It took us a full day to find you, but the dwarves have entrances to their tunnels all over the Hoarfrost. Once we figured out where you were, it was pretty easy to get to you.” Alaric paused, then leaned closer. “What did you do? To drive off the frost goblins?”

  Will felt a smile growing. “I took the heat from the fires and the heatstones.” At the questioning quirk in Alaric’s brow, he said, “I have to tell you about heatstones. Anyway, I took the heat and pushed it toward the goblins.”

  Alaric’s eyebrows rose. “With a fire net? That wouldn’t hold enough heat.”

  Will’s smile turned into a grin. “With a fire wall.”

  Alaric’s head tilted to the side and his eyes flickered unseeing around the room as he thought through it.

  “A clay wall, like an oven.”

  Alaric stared at him. “That’s brilliant. Show me.”

  Will held up his bandaged hands. “Maybe someday. Last time it hurt. A lot.”

  “Where’s that gem you picked up?” Patlon asked Will.

  Will pulled the blue necklace that Hal had put on him out of his pack. “It’s a compulsion stone holding a spell that will exhaust you if you touch it.”

  Patlon pulled back the hand he’d been reaching.

  Alaric peered at the stone. “Do the Morrow use a lot of magic?”

  “No, but Killien is actively trying to change that. He has a book that talks about burning stones like this. It’s based on the magic Mallon used.”

  “Mallon the Rivor?” Alaric exchanged glances with Douglon.

  Will nodded. “The thing he seems to be studying the most from that book is how to transfer thoughts and emotions into others. They’re called compulsion stones, but I don’t think he’s figured out how to use it.”

  “He definitely knows how to transfer thoughts,” Sora said.

  “Really? Lukas's notes said it wasn’t sophisticated enough to work on humans, and he seemed to lose interest. Seems like it was meant to control beasts.”

  Sora nodded. “Like frost goblins.”

  Will tucked the blue stone back in his pack. “If Killien could control frost goblins, why didn’t he drive them away from the clan?”

  Sora let out a derisive snort. “He’s the reason they attacked.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  “What are you talking about?” Hal demanded.

  “On the trip north,” Sora said, “Killien ordered me to bring him a goblin. Two days before the attack, I was able to capture one alive.” Her mouth tightened with distaste. “He put a blue stone around the creature’s neck.” She stopped and stared unseeing at the bowl of glimmer moss on the table. “The goblin went mad. It was bound, but it thrashed around, trying to move toward the clan.

  “It had almost torn its own hand off when Killien gave the order to kill it. When I touched it, I had this idea of a box of gold nearby, and suddenly I wanted it. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted something as much as that.”

  Her hand gripped the hilt of her knife. “I pulled the stone off its neck and threw it to the ground, and the idea disappeared. But the creature didn’t calm. If anything, it fought harder.” She dropped her hand from the knife. “In the end, there was nothing to do but kill it.”

  “Killien gave a goblin the idea that there was metal nearby?” Will asked. “That’s insane.”

  “It was more than an idea of metal,” Sora said. “It was a desire for it.”

  Will nodded. “That makes sense. He’s not trying to transfer a thought, he’s transferring emotions. Lukas discovered that emotions were easy to share.”

  Hal shook his head violently. “That doesn’t mean that Killien brought the army of frost goblins.”

  They had poured out of the ground like a single creature, like a hive of drones. Swarming toward the metal.

  “He did. They’re all connected,” Will said. “Like one creature, or like a thousand spiders sharing a web. What one senses, they all sense. Killien didn’t just give one goblin the desire for metal near the clan, he gave it to every goblin it was connected to.”

  “And they all came,” Sora finished.

  Hal fixed her with a look too complicated to describe, still shaking his head. “Killien caused the attack?” He sounded half angry, half appalled.

  “At least now I know what Killien did that made you so mad at him.” Will almost asked her why she hadn’t told him, but the question felt like it presumed more secret-sharing than they’d been in the habit of. At least before today.

  She nodded. “And after all of that, he has rangers trying to capture more.”

  “Why?” Hal demanded.

  “Becaus
e he’s obsessed with gaining power for the Morrow Clan,” Sora said. “And he is increasingly violent about it.”

  Hal looked like he wanted to object, but there was something in his expression that agreed with her. “I’ve never seen him like this.” He sank down on the bench. His next words came out slowly. “He told me nothing…about any of this.”

  “I’d like to see that book about Mallon’s magic,” Alaric mused.

  “I have something better.” Will pulled The Gleaning of Souls out of his pack and the book fell to the table with a thud. “Or maybe worse.”

  Alaric leaned over and drew in a breath. “Kachig the Bloodless.”

  “You know the name? I hadn’t heard it until I came to the Sweep.”

  A flicker of something dark crossed Alaric’s face. “The blood doctors in Napon speak highly of him.”

  Will glanced up at him. “You’ve spoken to blood doctors? In Napon?”

  Alaric’s eyes were dark and angry. “I don’t recommend it.” He sat next to Will on the bench and reached out toward the medallion on the cover. His finger paused above it. “I’ve seen something like this before.”

  “That thing is dark.” Will pulled his eye away from it. “It describes how to make something called absorption stones.”

  Alaric nodded and opened the book. He ran his fingers over the stacked runes, tracing the lines. “They’ve put runes inside each other.”

  Will watched Alaric’s finger slide over the page, heard him muttering the words. Laughter started to bubble up inside him, foreign and shocking. Like something that hadn’t happened in years. It burst out and Alaric looked up in surprise.

  “You’re just”—Will gestured to the page—“reading it. Like it’s nothing.”

  Alaric smiled and pointed at one complicated one. “This is fascinating. They stacked four of them here. Fire, escape, capture, and…” He tilted his head to the side and leaned closer. “Broken.”

  Will leaned forward. “I thought it was empty.”

  Alaric shook his head. “This line draws it into the past, referring to a cause. The end result would be empty but the rune itself is talking about the brokenness that emptied it.”