by D N Meinster
"Tropical zone," Aros replied. "Before I met M'dalla. He saved my butt, yet they wouldn't let me bring him into the hospital."
"Got one for me?" Doren asked. He felt somewhat left out as the only one without a pet.
"I'm afraid not," Lestrapel told him. "But I do have these." He slipped a few straps out from beneath his robes and held them toward the Prince."
Doren took hold of them and examined them. One of them was Aros', laced with magnets. The other was a simple sling he had previously used for his shield. "Thanks," he said, obviously let down.
"They were requested, I believe."
Doren stared at Lestrapel, recalling their arrival to Belliore. It felt like it'd been decks since they went through decontamination. Yet it'd really only been a matter of days. "Anything else?" he asked, trying to think of what else they'd taken.
"That would be it," Lestrapel said with a nod.
"What about our armor?" Doren asked. Were they going to let them keep it?
"It was made for you. It's yours." Lestrapel bowed to the Kytherans. "I do hope you prevent Neanthal's return. But should he come back, we will have weapons waiting for you. Swords and shields might not be so effective on a demigod."
Doren couldn't imagine parting with his shield for some Bellish weapon, but then he couldn't imagine Neanthal actually escaping from his prison either. Ideally, he would never have to picture nor live through such contingencies. Hatswick only had one Key. All was not lost yet.
"Until we meet again." Lestrapel made to exit the rooftop.
"Bye!" They all called out, nearly in unison.
"Kwee kwee!"
Doren held the straps out to Aros, but his friend merely looked at them.
"What?"
"You can take yours," Doren insisted.
"But I've got Mr. Kwee here," Aros said, indicating the tails wrapped around his torso.
Doren did not hide his exasperation as he swung the straps over his shoulder. "You owe me one."
"Here." Aros ejected a gold coin from the cylinder on his belt and flipped it at Doren.
Doren caught the coin and held it up to his eye. "Ligold. Do you plan on trading it all for something back in Kytheras?"
"I don't know," Aros replied. "Pudo gave it to me. Maybe I'll return it once this is over."
Doren stuck the coin to the magnetized strap. Was he going to have to lug these around for the rest of their journey?
He looked to Rikki, wondering where she was going to take them next. But he couldn't get a question out. He watched as the breeze caused strands of her magenta hair to flutter.
When she was done cuddling with Ji-Ji, she finally noticed that Doren had been transfixed by her. Rikki winked at him while her cheeks blushed.
"So, where are we going next?" Aros asked, not realizing he was interrupting their moment.
"We only have two choices," Doren responded.
"Given how I almost just drowned on the Islands, I'd rather not go back there until I have to," Rikki stated.
"Terrastream it is."
The three of them gazed out into the city, taking one last look at Cortex before they departed.
"I don't think any of the other kingdoms will be like this," Aros remarked.
Doren quietly agreed. Belliore was an anomaly. Terrastream and the Twilight Islands were much more likely to resemble Kytheras and Faunli. For all the technology in this kingdom, he missed the simplicity of home.
"What if the kingdoms reunited?" Rikki put forward. "Do you think this is how they would all look eventually?"
"I hope not," Doren stated. The MR was only one sign of how dangerous these scientific advancements could become. Who knows what else they'd discover if they stayed longer. AGTs were convenient and electricity was especially useful, but Doren was fine with horses and candlelight.
"I like it here," Aros said, flabbergasting his companions.
"Aros, you've seemed dazed the entire time we've been here," Rikki said with a snort.
Aros grabbed at the back of his head. "Yeah, but I kinda like how the doors just open for you wherever you go."
Doren let out a snort. "Vexed by everything, but as long as the doors open for you, who cares?"
"Exactly," Aros said, and when he started to laugh, his pet mimicked the sound.
"At least in this place, plagues are curable," Rikki stated, cutting short the warm mood.
"Yeah," Doren sighed. "But if another plague ever comes to Kytheras, we know where to go."
"Hatswick could've come here for us," Rikki said. "For your mom. But he only came here for his resurrected."
Doren hadn't even considered that. But if Hatswick hadn't been a Thalian, he might've shifted here to seek a cure for the Palmarose Plague. At that point, he'd have been the only one that could.
"Let's not let him get another Key," Doren grumbled.
Aros vigorously nodded before reaching out toward Rikki.
Rikki held her staff horizontally and moved it near him.
Both he and Doren latched on as they prepared to shift to their next destination.
"Here we go," Rikki said, and all of Belliore began to fade to make way for the next kingdom and their next adventure.
Chapter Thirty-Six
The Third Key
Kytheras had not changed in the decks he'd been gone. There were no mages left to protect them in Castle Tornis, yet the city went about like all was normal; like they weren't completely vulnerable. If he wanted to, he could assassinate the King, burn down the castle, and enslave the entire kingdom as a gift for Neanthal when he arrived. But Hatswick thought better of it. He knew Neanthal would prefer to do all that himself.
Hatswick roamed the busy streets of the Inner, fascinated by the children at play and the businesses that operated like it was an average day. With a trilby atop his head and his staff in hand, he figured someone might recognize him. He wouldn't have minded if they did. He was not afraid of them.
But not one paid him mind as he walked past. Had they not been paying attention when Spira warned them? Neanthal was coming back. And by now, they should all have known that he was a Thalian. They should have screamed and fled when he approached. They should've called for guardians to try to take him on.
Instead, he was not even beckoned by the shop owners to enter their establishments. He had to admit, it was a bit of a letdown.
For many years, he neglected Kytheras. Making plans so blatantly under the King's nose was risky. It had been easier to shift to other kingdoms to prepare. Only when he reached the point of resurrecting lost Thalians did he operate here, but always in the shadows. Even then, he was not noticed.
What was it about this place? Were they all so lost in themselves that they failed to pay heed to what was happening around them? It was exactly like the old saying. Kytherans worship themselves. Apparently even a revelation of a goddess hadn't changed that.
He looked back at Castle Tornis as he crossed into the Outer. He'd known that place for so long, it was odd not immediately returning to it. But there was no reason to go back there and instantly be recognized. No reason but to be able to sleep in his own bed. That, he missed.
The Outer was unchanged as well. The Outerlings stayed out of sight in the ruins of old Kytheras. He was reminded of the ancient battles as he encountered places that hadn't been repaired since then. For a brief second, he saw Aergo's face clear as day, ordering his men to their doom as they made to defend the city.
And then he saw another battle.
Rikki.
The girl was growing more powerful the longer her quest to obtain the Keys went on. It figured. He needed Amelia's heir to enact his first plan, but even with is lifelong attempt to undermine her, she was still becoming a fearsome adversary. If she were able to match her great-grandmother's abilities, she would be a threat to both him and Neanthal.
Twice now, she'd nearly gotten the better of him. The first time she had her friends with her, but this time she'd managed to match him on her o
wn. It was past the point where he could easily dispose of her. He could distract her, but anything more than that might be beyond him.
This was the second Nasem that could take him on even though he was a Thalian. Neanthal had unleashed his full potential but even that wasn't enough. Why had he been made this way?
A sand-filled gust smacked him in the face, and he coughed up and spat out the grains that had been forced up his nostrils.
Magenine continued to aid Her stooges. Well, it wasn't going to be enough. The true god was going to be freed and he would take Ghumai first before he came for Her Bastion.
Hatswick put one foot out into the desert, his boot slightly sinking in the ocean of sand. Not fifty feet out in front of him was the Door. As he stared at it, he got the sensation it was looking right back at him. Neanthal was behind it. Was he pressed up against the other side, watching? Waiting?
Hatswick had many regrets in his life, but none more that helping to create the oversized, white monstrosity that stood before him. He'd worked with Amelia to seal Neanthal away. What had compelled him to make such a mistake? Why had it taken him so long to see the truth?
But even Amelia hadn't been able to defeat Neanthal. She'd had no choice but to lock him away and hide the Keys. She was the grandest mage there ever was and she still fell short. This time he'd be on the right side. This time, Neanthal's reign would not be cut short.
Hatswick whipped out Belliore's Key and held it in front of the Door. He was going to make up for what he'd done centuries ago.
Amelia's plan had been brilliant. It'd been successful for centuries. But even she could not have seen this coming, or she may have put a stop to it while she was still alive.
With the Key in hand, Hatswick stretched out his arm, pointing it at the Door. Knowing exactly what was coming as he held it in position, he allowed himself to smile. There were no mages nor princes nor guardians coming out of nowhere to stop him. Today, he was victorious.
A Note From the Author
And that's three!
Now you know who the third immortal is.
What do you mean he wasn't that important? He's the leader of Belliore. He's Valal.
You got me. I needed to have a third something. It's not easy coming up with these titles. You do it. Right now. Go!
See? Not so easy, is it?
And there are still two books yet to come. Who's to say he won't become more important? I guess you'll have to keep reading. You really have no choice now. I mean, you made it through three of these things already. Why not two more?
Here comes the part where I ask you to leave a review: please leave a review. Unless you hated it. Then you can just scream at me on Twitter @dnmeinster.
If you want to know when the next book in the Kings of Ghumai series will be released, you can sign up for my mailing list by clicking here.
I've also got a Tumblr page and an actual website.
I've got some other projects in the works, so you might actually want to hit those links. Even if you hated this, you might like those. Probably not, but maybe.
Until I write again.
– D. N Meinster
D. N. Meinster
Copyright © 2019 by D.N. Meinster
Cover Illustration © 2019 by eishiya
Table of Contents
Chapter One - Beneath Soaring Peaks
Chapter Two - Sinful
Chapter Three - Welcoming Party
Chapter Four - Revolutionaries
Chapter Five - An Enduring Legacy
Chapter Six - Into the Mountains
Chapter Seven - A New Weapon
Chapter Eight - Remnants of Roamers
Chapter Nine - Insomnia
Chapter Ten - King Kahar
Chapter Eleven - Redirection
Chapter Twelve - The Last Debate
Chapter Thirteen - Fusion Forest
Chapter Fourteen - Dungeon Daze
Chapter Fifteen - Double Team
Chapter Sixteen - Nightmare
Chapter Seventeen - Before They Roamed
Chapter Eighteen - The Prince
Chapter Nineteen - Out of Captivity
Chapter Twenty - Silent
Chapter Twenty-One - Five Keys
Chapter Twenty-Two - Heirloom
Chapter Twenty-Three - The Last Stand of the Revolutionaries
Chapter Twenty-Four - Loraya's Lament
Chapter Twenty-Five - Invasion
Chapter Twenty-Six - M'dalla’s Mission
Chapter Twenty-Seven - One Slight Leap
Chapter Twenty-Eight - Hasty Decisions
Chapter Twenty-Nine - Banishment
Chapter Thirty - The Fourth Revolt
Chapter Thirty-One - Out of the Keep
Chapter Thirty-Two - A Split Kingdom
Chapter Thirty-Three - The Belated Funeral
Chapter Thirty-Four - The Fourth Key
Chapter Thirty-Five - A Promise
Chapter Thirty-Six - The Great Parting
A Note From the Author
Chapter One
Beneath Soaring Peaks
Loraya Lette could not remember a time when she was not causing trouble. Though her brothers would reminisce about her virtuous years as an infant, she could not recall them any better than she could recall her parents' faces. That era was lost to her, like it had never happened. She only knew what came after, when her life had irrevocably changed; when Terrastream had changed.
Valiant Keep was as much a reminder of her loss as it was an abhorrent perversion of the natural lands which all Streamers had once found sacred. She'd only beheld it twice before, but each time it sickened her to an extent that shaded her tan face nearly as green as her hair. The Enduring Mountains were a majestic beauty. It was awful enough that they'd been mined in centuries past. But to see them now was heartbreaking, for there was little to make of the jagged stone and soaring peaks of which the mountain range had been composed. Instead, carved into the front of the rock was a structure unlike any in the kingdom. Parts had been flattened and squared off as its builders had chipped away at it. Other segments were shaped into turrets while the innards had been hollowed out to make room for the awaiting occupants. No Streamer should have cooperated in the construction of the monstrosity. Better to lose one's life and soul than to collaborate with the defilers of the land.
She'd heard some describe this castle as a marvel. They were impressed that the mountains could be tamed; that their eternal formation could be altered. Loraya couldn't easily digest such blasphemy. She'd struck one that dared speak such words to her, and she'd nearly killed another. It was all part of her irksome manner. But when she wasn't lashing out, at least she was putting it to good use.
Loraya gritted her teeth as she waited for the signal. She was on her stomach, gray pelt wrapped around her torso and the rest of her skin rubbed with gray dirt to conceal her as she held her position. She kept her face low, as it remained unsoiled, glancing up only when her impatience got to her. If anyone untoward spotted her, she'd appear to be a wild shrub, as she'd made sure her hair appeared more plantlike before they'd departed. All it'd taken was masking a few dark strands with leaves. Her natural hair color did the rest.
They'd arrived at dawn, when there'd been just enough darkness to keep others from spotting them and just enough light to guide them to a proper place to hide. And there they'd stayed for the entire day, as unwavering as the once formidable mountain. None of them had been found, as there hadn't been any commotion amongst the watchers on the keep. There would be soon, though. Shades of pink were already overtaking the sky.
Loraya hadn't been nervous about what they were about to attempt. They'd already tried twice before. Each had ended in failure, but they knew so much more. The layout of Valiant Keep was no longer a secret. And the resistance they'd face from watchers and loyalists had been taken into account. This time, they'd succeed.
What worried her was her stomach. It wasn't that she couldn't survive a day wit
hout food, but the grumbles that her body would create to alert her of her hunger could also alert the watchers. She'd clenched every part of her body throughout the day and even resorted to chewing on her cheeks in order to suppress the uncontrollable urge. So far, she'd managed. And with night upon them, she'd actually be able to eat soon enough.
The first torches outside Valiant Keep were lit. Moments later, explosions shook the area and blew chunks of rock out from the castle. It was time.
Loraya stretched out her arms and dug into the dirt until she could feel her bow in one hand and her quiver in the other. Her muscles were stiff and it took extra effort to force herself up as she rose from her position. She tightened the quiver onto her waist and swiftly grabbed an arrow from the set. After shaking the dirt from her bow, which was little more than a curved tree branch, she held it up near her eye and nocked the arrow.
One of the watchers atop the entrance had already brought a horn to his lips. It was doubtful anyone nearby hadn't heard the prop powder going off, but she didn't want to give the ignorant another chance to be warned.
Loraya took aim and loosed the first arrow into the potential horn-blower's neck. Seconds later, she took out his companion, who fell from atop the keep and into the entryway as a loyalist emerged from within. She readied another arrow for this one, but it was her brother who took him out.
Though his sword was rusted, Jemmy managed to decapitate the first loyalist and slice open the guts of the one who followed.
The rest of her brothers and their company moved on to the entrance, but Loraya held her position, taking out the watchers that had survived the explosions. By the time she'd accomplished her primary objective, her quiver was only half-filled and her brothers were already inside.
Loraya surveyed the grounds before darting to the entryway of Valiant Keep. The set of stone doors were massive and took many men to open and shut. During the day, they remained ajar. Only at night, after the torches were lit, did the watchers shut them. She nocked an arrow before stepping inside.
