Sapphire Ambition (Runics Book 2)

by Jeff Kish

  Ruby laughs aloud. “Using us? We’re kinda made for that, you know?”

  “Regardless,” Peridot says, his deep voice booming as he kneels next to Luk, “we came here for the Valvoran runic. Is she within your compound? Did you send her to another Krypta stronghold?”

  “What makes you think I’m hiding a runic?” he challenges. “I never knew Tema was one. Perhaps I was fooled by the other as well.”

  “Your lies are unbecoming,” he states. “Athena witnessed your troops kidnapping her.”

  “This seductress is an ugly sack of lies.”

  The comment brings a forced frown to Athena’s face. “That was hurtful.”

  “Did you sell her? Trade her?” Ruby asks.

  “I’ll give nothing to you lot!” he replies. “Leave me alone. Kill me. Either way, just end this, already.”

  “STOP!” a voice cries out, and the lot finds an injured bodyguard limping their way. “I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

  “Lay back down, you insolent-gyah!” Luk yelps as Ruby twists her foot into his back.

  “S-Sorry, Master Luk, but it is my duty to protect you, even if from your own pride.” He faces Peridot and explains, “The ice elementalist was taken by a group of Valvorans late last night. They were headed to the border.”

  “Ya sold out your own nation?” Ruby exclaims in disgust.

  Peridot walks toward the guard. “This is the truth?”

  He swallows nervously. “Y-Yes… the group was in the service of Commander Talkem of the Valvoran military.”

  The runic extends a bare hand, and a dark, condensed matter begins forming in his palm. “I do not take kindly to deceptions.”

  “I-It’s the truth!” he swears.

  “Then I must test your intentions.” Now towering over the trembling servant, he raises one arm and forms an imposing rock, as if carved from a cliff side, directly over his target’s head. It casts a dark shadow over the bodyguard, but, despite its size and Peridot’s relatively weak grip on it, it does not fall. “Surely you know how elemental makers function. This unwieldy stone is massless to its maker, but to anyone else…” He slowly lowers the stone, and the guard reaches up as if to resist it, but, to him, the rock has the full weight of a boulder. He collapses to his back as the runic pushes it down.

  “My, your partner is cruel,” Athena muses to Ruby.

  She spits on the ground next to Luk. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  “I will spare only one of you,” Peridot says, stopping just short of crushing his victim. “If you say I should spare Luk, I will release this stone, and it will crush you like a bug. However, nothing would bring me greater pleasure than to flatten your boss, and you will be invited into the service of the prince. What is your desire?”

  Despite breaking into a cold sweat, the bodyguard forces a cocky smile. “It would be an honor… to die for Corpit.”

  “Very well, then,” Peridot says, and the guard squeezes his eyes shut in anticipation. However, the menacing runic places his other hand on the side of the giant rock, and it disappears, absorbed into his hand as easily as it was created from the other.

  Luk gasps. “Negation…?”

  “I knew it!” Ruby sneers. “You’re soft, Perry.”

  “Unlike you, I will not have Allerian blood on my hands unnecessarily,” he says. “Our prince desires the runic, and this servant speaks the truth. We will retrieve her.”

  “Corpit, Corpit,” Athena sings, “what an interesting person you are. So smart, so powerful… and yet you simply sold the Valvoran runic away? You never sought the runics for yourself? For your country?”

  “My love for my country has been dying a slow death along with His Majesty.”

  “That codger is never getting out of bed,” Ruby spouts. “You could at least honor the dead guy by giving his son the royal treatment, eh?”

  “I will never recognize that petulant brat as my liege,” he says.

  “Pah…” she spouts, turning back to Peridot. “This guy doesn’t deserve your mercy. Can I at least burn the place to the ground?”

  “As you wish. Just be quick about it.”

  Giggling uncontrollably, Ruby delivers one last kick to Luk before charging into the manor, flames already forming at her fingertips. The boss watches helplessly as his home becomes consumed by a raging inferno from within.

  Peridot looks to Athena. “Our men will transport the wood elementalist to the palace. You will escort them while Ruby and I chase after the Valvorans.”

  “Whatever you say,” she says endearingly, still playing with the thick grass at her feet.

  Luk glares at Athena. “Temptress, you’ll be the fall of this great nation. Curses be heaped upon you and your family for generations.”

  Her eyes widen. “For generations? My, my… Whatever did I do to stir such hatred? Long live the king, my dear.”

  Ruby runs out from the blaze, relief plastered on her face even as her bright red hair smolders. “That always feels good.”

  “We must depart at once,” Perry calls out as he mounts his horse and kicks it into motion.

  “Gah! Wait for me, you impatient oaf!” Ruby cries as she hurries to her own ride.

  The troops retrieve Tema and begin their march from the compound. Athena stands and stretches, her bare toes still digging into the grass. “Well, I suppose I should be off as well.”

  “Venomous creature,” Luk grunts as he starts to rise. “For the sake of His Majesty, I will-HURK!” His eyes widen in anguish as a sharp spire penetrates his abdomen from the earth below. Luk gasps for air as he loses strength and sinks back to the ground.

  “You have such contempt for me, Corpit. Perhaps you should rest awhile.” The Krypta boss reaches out, trying to grasp her ankle, but she steps away and looks down on him with malice. “Rest and never awaken.” With that, she marches after the troops, leaving the dying mogul in the shadow of his wealthy estate as the flames devour it from the inside out.

  Chapter 24

  “This is…?” Marmela rips the paper from the technician’s grasp and studies the output.

  “Just seems another garbled mess to me, ma’am,” he says as he resumes his post.

  “No, this is something more,” she whispers. “This is a cipher.”

  Praler looks over her superior’s shoulder. “You can tell just by looking?”

  “Not alone, but when paired with the rest of the messages…” She withdraws a note and compares the two. “This is it! But why did it take five days?”

  “I mean, why would they send their cipher at all?” Praler asks.

  Leaning close, Marmela says, “I have an explanation, but it will have to wait.”

  Though perplexed, she moves on and asks, “So what do the messages say?”

  “Their meeting location is… far to the south. Deep into the wastelands.”

  Praler plants her hand to her chin. “Not where we expected, but it makes sense. It will be easy for them to cross the border down there.”

  “Except the terrain is quite open,” Marmela notes. “That is why we did not suspect it. They will be unable to remain hidden from our eyes.”

  “Do they have a time set?”

  Marmela shakes her head. “As best I can tell, Thayo has received no communication from his men in Alleria. Perhaps he is desperate to reach them.”

  “Incoming message,” the technician reports as he jots the message, listening intently to the soft beeps emanating from the beacon emitter.

  Marmela rushes over and snatches it from him the moment he finishes his writing. She mentally applies the cipher, grinning ear to ear. “This is from his men! They are meeting in an hour. They… They have the runic!”

  Praler’s eyes widen. “We must depart at once!”

  “Agreed,” Marmela says, hurrying outside to find the street abandoned, save for their local officer stationed nearby. “Where is everyone?” she demands of Corporal Foard.

  “Couple hours to the no
rth, ma’am,” he replies. “Smoke was spotted, so the commander and lieutenant commander left with the bulk of the regiment.”

  “The bulk!?” Praler shouts.

  “And the runics?” Marmela asks.

  “The kids? Yes, ma’am, they accompanied him.”

  Panicked, Praler exclaims, “We need to summon them back at once!”

  “We can send a scout by horseback,” he offers. “He should make it in fifteen minutes, but the regiment went by foot. They’re over two hours at an accelerated hike.”

  “Two hours back here, which means another two to get to the meeting place,” Praler groans. “They’ll be far too late.”

  Marmela plants her hand to her chin. “How many troops have we here?”

  “Ermm… fourteen,” he says. “Counting the three of us.”

  “Then it will have to do,” she says. “Have we enough horses for us to ride to the wastelands?”

  His brow furrows. “You want us to ride to-”

  “Have we enough?” she repeats.

  “Y-Yes, ma’am!”

  “Then send two riders north to alert the commander and bring him and the runics back. The rest of us will ride to intercept former-Commander Talkem.”

  He stands in awkward silence, as if awaiting more details, until Praler barks, “Well? You heard her!”

  “Yes, ma’ams!” he replies as he scurries to obey.

  Subtly, Praler leans toward Marmela with a quiet voice. “We are to ride out with twelve men?”

  “We have two strong women among those men,” Marmela coyly replies. “However, you are correct in your presumed analysis. Our primary mission objective is to delay Thayo until our reinforcements arrive.”

  Praler reluctantly salutes her understanding before taking her leave. The commander takes a deep breath and closes her eyes as she silently calculates the many possible outcomes of this ambush, biting her lip as she runs through the worst of the scenarios. However, even if there is slim chance of success, she is certain that this is their only opportunity to secure the runic and recapture the traitorous commander.

  * * *

  “Should be ten minutes, sir,” the operative reports.

  “Excellent,” says Talkem from behind his mask. “Join the others on the lookout.” The subordinate obeys without a word, returning to the edge of the thicket.

  “This desert is miserable,” Rex complains, waving his hand across his face, trying to stir a breeze.

  Talkem raises an eyebrow. “This is hardly a desert, my friend, and we are taking shelter under a generous umbrella of trees.” After studying his second-in-command, he adds, “Though you are certainly perspiring heavily.”

  “A curse from my mother’s family,” he quips.

  Talkem’s brow furrows. “Nervous, perhaps? We are minutes away from our goal. Let us enjoy this moment.”

  He grimaces. “The sky boat is en route, but where are we taking this runic? You’ve been quite secretive about your plans.”

  “An unfortunate formality,” Talkem assures him. “The time for secrets will soon be over, but rest assured that I have our destination in-hand. I received a visit from a friend while I was in the palace dungeon. He provided me the necessary intel.”

  Rex continues to watch the border from their vantage point. Puzzled, Talkem says, “I never considered you among my close allies, Rex, yet you abruptly came through for me in the dungeon. It is possible I’d have failed to escape without your assistance.”

  “You’re welcome,” he says curtly.

  The response isn’t satisfactory. “If I may ask, what is it you seek in return?”

  “In return?”

  “Not one of these curs owes me allegiance,” he says, motioning around him. “Each is being paid handsomely for his efforts, yet I have promised you nothing. Your motives are unclear, and I dare say suspicious.”

  “You have long been my superior,” Rex insists. “I felt your imprisonment was unjustified, and I acted on my own accord.”

  As Talkem studies him, a scout barges through the foliage and cries, “Incoming bogeys sighted! Coming from the north on horseback.”

  “How many?” Talkem asks.

  “Only four, sir. Bearing military uniforms.”

  “With the runic children?”

  “They appear to be adults.”

  His worry shifts to confusion. “A scout force, perhaps?”

  “They’re straight toward us. They seem to know we’re in here.”

  “Four soldiers?” Rex asks in disbelief before hurriedly adding, “Th-They underestimate our forces.”

  “Our forces are not an advantage against the wrong opponents,” Talkem warns. “Let us greet our arrivals in the open.”

  “In the open?”

  Without further discussion, Talkem signals his men to remain hidden as he leads Rex from the tree cluster and into the open plains. The trail of dust is nearly upon them by the time they emerge, and Talkem holds a hand in the air as a greeting. Rex nervously grips his weapon in anticipation of a fight.

  The riders come to a halt a short distance away, and Talkem’s eyes narrow to slits at the sight of his former compatriot. “Commander Marmela. So you have come to rectify your mistake? Or perhaps you have come to join my cause, seeing as you bring such a ragtag group.”

  The commander keeps her distance, acting disturbed by the presence of Lieutenant Commander Rex. “It seems you’ve enough traitors among your ranks,” she says sternly from her mount, eyeing the trees behind Talkem. “How many men have you this time, Thayo?”

  “You and I both know how little that matters,” he answers. “Your presence here tells me the children aren’t far behind. However, it also tells me they aren’t immediately nearby. I won’t be waiting around to meet the brat this time. You should spare the lives of your men and leave.”

  The mounted soldiers draw their swords, but Marmela extends a hand to keep them at bay. “We will die for the protection of this nation, Thayo. You know that well.”

  The patience fades from Talkem’s expression. “And to whom does your loyalty lie, Commander? For whom do you seek the runic?”

  “For the king, naturally.”

  “And does our overzealous general share your loyalty?” he asks as he paces. “What do you suppose Graff will do with this runic? Will he turn it over to you? To the Raging Flame, perhaps? His Majesty?”

  She remains steadfast. “That is not my concern.”

  “A good and proper response,” he says, “but one that lacks conviction. You see, I will not allow another runic to fall into the hands of the war monger. I will become a balancing force within our great nation, and I will keep the peace.”

  Marmela smirks. “And if you feed your ambition along the way?”

  “Then so be it. To the victor go the spoils.”

  “You confuse conviction with self-interest,” she argues. “You will be undone by your methods, Thayo. Your actions are traitorous.”

  “Then we shall agree to disagree.” Turning his attention to an approaching group from the west, he beckons and explains, “See, here comes my prize. I’m afraid our time for conversation has come to an end, Commander.” He snaps his fingers, and a horde of armed combatants emerges from the woods behind him, with a half-dozen on horseback. “Out of respect for our time as allies, I shall allow you to withdraw to the east. Any other movements will result in a harsh response from my men.”

  Marmela glances to the soldiers at her side and takes a deep breath. “We cannot win this fight,” she says, to which each nods his head. She raises a flare rune and, before Talkem can react, fires the shining beacon high into the atmosphere. Praler’s troops reveal themselves from behind the hill and race westward toward the approaching Eagle members. Talkem hurriedly barks orders to his men to pursue them instead.

  The mounted soldiers turn their horses and race to defend Eagle, and Marmela offers Talkem an expressionless glance as she kicks her steed into a gallop as well. He calls for a horse, curs
ing his failure to realize Marmela’s strategy.

  Though Talkem’s mounted forces have a strong lead, Marmela’s troops overcome the lagging footmen, and they encircle them with small orbs in-hand. They fling them into the midst of the crowd, unleashing powerful jets of water which soak the ruffians and moisten the dry ground. Marmela charges her steed into the midst of the group and leaps from her mount, rolling to absorb her momentum and coming to a stop with her hands planted in the pooled water. As the surrounding troops turn on her, hundreds of sharp spikes protrude from the surface of the water, and her victims scream in pain as their boots are punctured and they fall.

  Marmela’s soldiers engage the injured combatants, and Marmela lashes out at nearby aggressors with a blade made from the gathered waters. She skillfully dispatches two fighters before Talkem rides in with sword drawn. Marmela meets his powerful sword strike with her elemental blade, slicing cleanly through the steel as he passes by. The sight alone causes most of Talkem’s forces to change their attention to the other soldiers, leaving the intimidating commander to their leader.

  Undeterred, Talkem dismounts and marches toward Marmela, who grits her teeth but holds her ground. “You will die here, Marmela!” he cries, his voice booming above the chaos of the battlefield.

  “I know,” she whispers as she moves to engage him.

  * * *

  “GET DOWN!” Hyrel screams as their ambushers come upon them. The Eagle members dive to avoid getting trampled on the initial pass, and they scurry to their feet to meet their opponents’ blades as they come back around.

  Though initially elated by the sight of Valvoran soldiers, Ospif covers his head in terror as fighting breaks out all around him. He throws himself to the ground, hoping to be recognized as a captive and not a combatant.

  Praler charges the Eagle member still holding the unconscious Fire over his shoulder, but Hyrel flings a fireball into her horse’s leg, and it tumbles to the ground. The nimble officer scrambles to her feet and continues her pursuit, but another flaming projectile cuts off her path.

  “Get to the commander!” Hyrel orders, and his teammate races toward the approaching wave of allies with his lightweight captive in hand.