Dawning Ceremony (Sexcraft Chronicles Book 3)

by Edmund Hughes

  He fell back on Cadrian’s teachings, maneuvering through the huts and toward the cliff’s edge. The brawny slave followed him, smiling and holding the massive sword at the ready. For all his muscle, Hal could tell that he wasn’t a trained fighter. He stood flat footed, and watched Hal’s knife instead of his eyes.

  Hal feinted forward as his opponent came within range. The brawny slave flinched back, and then seemed to remember the massive weapon in his hands. He swung an overhead strike which Hal ducked under easily. The slave immediately followed it up with another strike, which would have been good strategy, if not for how close they were to the cliff.

  Hal waited for the instant at the end of the swing where the man was off balance and then charged, throwing his shoulder into him. It would have been a foolhardy attack under normal circumstances, leaving him open to a counter which he could do little to avoid.

  But the cliff was there. The slave’s foot slipped on a loose rock. Hal slashed with his knife, and in an attempt to lean out of the way, the brawny slave shifted his weight too far out into thin air. He screamed as he fell, slamming into the rocks a good sixty feet below and going completely limp.

  Hal slowly exhaled, his heart pounding as adrenaline surged through him. He couldn’t let himself relax. The scream would draw anyone nearby interested in preying on a wounded or tired opponent. As much as he would have loved to loop back around to the beach to collect the fearsome blade his opponent had been wielding, he just didn’t have the time.

  CHAPTER 23

  After finishing his search of the nearby area and confirming that there wasn’t anything else he could use, Hal continued onward. He pushed through another section of jungle, and then into the clearing on the other side of it. He stop to eat some of his food, feeling a little annoyed by how impossible it felt like it was for him to ever let his guard down.

  Across the clearing was a strip of thick, identical bush foliage that was too uniform to have grown accidentally. He pushed his head through to the other side of it and found himself staring at a hexagonally shaped garden with a wooden six-sided building at the center.

  So elves once lived here, too. Colonists, maybe?

  The building was more rustic, lacking the glass, metal, and stone of the structures back in the Upper Realm, but making up for it with a sense of rural coziness. Hal kept low as he jogged across garden and entered through the front door.

  He stopped to listen as soon as h was inside, gripping his knife more tightly. He had a slight advantage inside the elven building, which had relatively low ceilings and narrow walls, by human standards. His smaller weapon would still allow him to strike and stab with it as he would have normally, without having to worry about it catching on anything.

  Hal did a slow survey of the bottom level. The estate was still furnished, but there wasn’t much of interest. The food in the pantry had either already been raided, or never been left there, to begin with.

  Slowly, he made his way up the creaky stairs running along the side wall, pausing at the top to listen again. He didn’t hear anybody, and what he saw as he glanced at the second floor made him feel like it had been worth it to come inside.

  In the room just beyond the stairway, Hal saw a chest similar to the one he’d found his knife inside of. He walked over to it slowly, kicking it open with his foot and hopping back a step, in case it was trapped. It wasn’t, and inside of it lay an object he wasn’t familiar with.

  It was a small, wooden stick, smooth on all sides, as thick as one of his fingers, and covered in eklid runes and writing. A red crystal had been set into a metal catch at the tip of it, and as Hal picked it up, he felt a sudden stirring between his body and it. It reminded him a little of how it had felt to channel his heartgem.

  “Don’t even think about,” said a female voice.

  Hal flinched, only barely resisting the urge to spin around and launch himself into an attack. He’d been too focused on the chest to even consider the possibility of someone else being in the room. Whoever it was had been hiding behind the door, hidden from him on his first glance.

  “Not bad,” said Hal. “Not bad, at all.”

  “I like to think so,” said the woman. Hal heard her take a slow step forward, but she was still out of range of his knife. “Turn around slowly,” she said. “Drop any weapons you have on the ground.”

  Hal turned around slowly. The first thing he noticed was that he’d seen her before. It was the curly haired girl from on the dragon carriage. The second, more important detail, was that she held a crossbow in her hands, loaded and pointed directly at him.

  Crossbows hadn’t been popular back in the Collected Provinces, and he wasn’t sure he’d seen one since coming to Krestia’s Cradle, but he knew enough about them to know that they were extremely easy to fire. Almost as easy to fire as a gun.

  Why don’t they have guns in the Upper Realm, I wonder? Maybe the elves don’t like to get their hands dirty with blackpowder, instead of magic?

  “I said drop your weapons!” snapped the girl.

  “I heard you,” said Hal. Despite her insistence, he considered his options. She hadn’t launched a crossbow bolt through his sternum, as of yet, and she didn’t take him down while he was facing away from him. She looked a little unsure, as though killing was still new to her. It was still fairly new to him, too. Even after the first time, back in the arena, and the other slaves he’d defended himself against, it still wasn’t necessarily something he was comfortable with.

  “I see the knife, and the crystal wand,” said the girl. “Is there anything else? What was in that chest?”

  Hal smiled a little and wiggled the stick thing, the crystal wand, he assumed.

  “I’m surprised you hadn’t looted it already,” said Hal.

  “You showed up as I was about to,” said the girl. “I thought I’d make use of the chest to lure someone in.”

  “You succeeded,” said Hal. “However…”

  He slowly lifted the wand and aimed the crystal in her direction. The girl tensed up, and her face went white. Hal kept the wand held tight between his fingers, and tried to look as though he was confident and knew what he was doing.

  “You’d kill us both,” said the girl. “That’s a Blast Wand, you fool. And we’re on the second floor of a wooden building. There’s no way that ends well for you.”

  “But a crossbow bolt through my stomach would?” asked Hal. “Maybe I’d rather take my chances.”

  They stared at each other, the silence between them drawing out into long, tense seconds. Hal was beginning to doubt whether his initial assessment of the girl had been accurate. He was no master at reading people, but she looked like she was considering whether she could hit him in the head, or possibly the heart, and kill him before he got a chance to use the wand against her.

  The stare down would have gone on longer, if not for the sound of footsteps below them. Hal bit his lip and shot an urgent look at the girl. Her eyes flicked toward the stairs once, and then she lifted the crossbow, slipping back to hide again in her spot behind the door.

  Hal didn’t have time to run, and didn’t want to rush into a fight against an unknown opponent, or possibly opponents. He took position on the other side of the door, which left him exposed, but still able to launch a surprise attack as soon as someone came within the room.

  He heard voices discussing something downstairs, and had to resist the urge to swear under his breath. Up against more than one opponent, he was probably out of luck. Unless…

  He turned the crystal wand over in his fingers, remembering what the girl had said. It still seemed like a bad idea, but then again, at least he’d take his enemies down with him.

  “…on our trail,” said one of the voices downstairs. “We don’t have time for this.”

  “I’ll be quick,” said the other, gruffer voice. “We need food. And better weapons. We’ll die just as sure if we ain’t trying to find them properly.”

  “Are you not listening to me
?” shouted the first voice. “That tattooed freak and his gang will be here any second!”

  The gruff voice let out a string of swear words that Hal didn’t recognize, and then the footsteps receded from the house. He slipped over to the window slit of the room they were in and took note of the direction they were headed in.

  I’m assuming it’s away from whoever they were just talking about?

  “Well, now that that interruption is gone,” said the girl, taking aim again with her crossbow.

  “…Truce,” said Hal. He wiggled the Blast Wand again. “I was about to use this on those two, if they decided to come upstairs. I’ll use it on you if you launch that bolt.”

  The girl glared at him, but took the threat seriously.

  “Are you staying here?” asked Hal, feeling a little curious. “It probably isn’t a good idea, after what they said about the group they’re running from.”

  “I’m fond of this strategy,” she said. “It beats the jungle.”

  Hal shrugged and decided that it was time to take his leave. He slipped back down the stairs, feeling instantly relieved as soon as he was around the corner and out of range of her crossbow.

  He left the building and took off in the direction opposite where he’d entered the area originally. As soon as he slipped into the jungle, he heard the sound of a larger group approaching, the laughter of overconfident, aggressive men.

  Hal was concerned about the attention he risked drawing on himself if he tried to keep moving at speed, so he stayed where he was, figuring that he could move on as soon as they entered the hexagonal building. He scanned his eyes across the group. Six men in total, with the one who appeared to be in charge being another slave who’d been with him on the dragon carriage. He’d been the man with the neck tattoos, the first person to jump. Hal still remembered the number “17” on the back of his parachute, and decided that was as good of a way to think of him as any.

  “In and out,” said Seventeen. “The other two couldn’t have gone far. No point in wasting time here if we can get them.”

  The men grunted in agreement, and all of them hurried into the house. Hal felt a sudden, unwanted stab of empathy for the plight of the curly haired girl. There wasn’t anything he could do for her, and he knew he needed to move on.

  But for some reason, he stayed where he was. He faintly heard the sound of screaming coming from inside the building, followed by Seventeen and another of his henchmen dragging the girl out.

  “No point in killing her yet,” said Seventeen. “Let’s give the elves watching through view crystal a bit of a show, shall we? You can have a turn once I’m done.”

  The other slave was carrying the curly haired girl’s crossbow, and he hesitated before nodding and heading back inside the building with the weapon. The curly haired girl started to stand up. Seventeen slapped her hard enough across the face to knock her back to the ground and daze her.

  She was a cute girl, probably around the same age as Hal. She was wearing pants and a long, dress like tunic. Seventeen ripped the chest of the tunic open as he straddled her, breathing heavily and looking like a man who hadn’t had his carnal needs sated in a very long time.

  No. I’m not going to watch this.

  Hal toyed with the Blast Wand. It felt hot in his fingers. He knew enough about how crystals worked to know that it would be limited in how many uses he’d get out of it. To waste it now with nothing to gain would be a stupid move.

  He tightened his grip around it and stepped out of the bushes.

  CHAPTER 24

  Using the magic within the Blast Wand felt like nothing so much as casting one of his spells. But where Flame Shot and Wave Blast were driven by his emotions, requiring practice, willpower, and focus, the Blast Wand was more like a simple switch or drawstring.

  As soon as he triggered the magical mechanism contained within it, the blast released. A fireball wider around than he was tall burst forward, heading for the building. Hal had been debating whether to use the Blast Wand on the building or Seventeen directly, and he felt like he’d made the right choice, in the end.

  The blast destroyed the elven estate, bursting through the wall and exploding with enough force to turn the wooden structure into a mess of flaming splinters. The shockwave was powerful enough to knock Hal on his butt, and he only heard the start of the explosion before his hearing cut out into a high pitched whine.

  Seventeen and the curly haired girl were both dazed, having been closer to the house than Hal had been. He ran forward with his knife held at the ready, preparing to stab down on Seventeen with it and end the fight quickly. In the back of his mind, a part of him added up a mental tally of all the men who’d been inside the building. Had it been five? Six? All of them, without a doubt, dead at his hands.

  He focused on the moment as he closed on Seventeen, bringing his curve knife down over his back. Seventeen was more alert than he looked, and rolled out of the way. When he stood up, he held a small dagger in his hand, an inch or two shorter than Hal’s own blade, but still dangerous wielded by a man taller and stronger than he was.

  “You little bastard,” said Seventeen. “That was a dumb thing to do.”

  Hal felt a grin spreading across his face.

  “I don’t think it was,” he said. “Groups like yours spoil the fun for everyone else. Just doing my part to even the odds a little bit.”

  A part of him loved the violence and the adrenaline rush. A part of him felt like throwing up. Hal relied on the instincts of the former part as he circled around Seventeen. The tattooed slave looked like he knew how to fight, and more importantly, he looked like he enjoyed it even more than Hal did.

  Hal feinted with his free hand. Seventeen stepped forward instead of flinching back, stabbing with his dagger. Hal dodged to the side, swinging his knife low at one of Seventeen’s ankles. Seventeen hopped over the slash, throwing his shoulder into Hal as his feet touched back down.

  Hal fell backward, rolling with his momentum as he hit the grass to keep himself out of Seventeen’s striking range. The curly haired girl was moving, trying to creep up behind Seventeen. The tattooed slave already knew where she was, from his posture, but the girl couldn’t tell that he knew.

  The smoke from the wreckage of the burning house was thick in the air. Between the way it blotted out the sky and Hal’s own diminished hearing, he almost didn’t notice as a massive, winged monster descended onto the scene of the fight. The ground shook as it landed, drawing the attention of everyone present.

  Dragongrounds… Of course. It wouldn’t be named that by happenstance.

  The dragon looked like it was smiling as it approached them. Hal recognized the expression from his time playing with Karnas, the lower jaw hanging open, eyes wide and wild. It was smiling, and it was about to kill all of them.

  Hal pulled the curly haired girl along with him as he bolted for the jungle. He didn’t look back to see what Seventeen planned on doing, and for good reason. The dragon’s firebreath blasted toward them, drawing short from their backs by only a few feet. The heat of the rushing air current was still enough to make Hal’s skin hurt.

  He pushed the girl ahead of him into the jungle, and then grabbed her wrist with his free hand as he sprinted through the trees and foliage at breakneck speed. He’d done this before, and knew that the trees would offer them some cover, assuming they could stay low to the ground if the dragon decided to try to burn them out.

  Hal could hear the beating of the dragon’s wings, and knew that it was circling in the air overhead. He wasn’t sure if it had decided to follow after them, or gone after Seventeen, instead. He pulled the girl along with him as he blindly hurried through the jungle, adrenaline and fear taking precedence over all other thoughts.

  He saw the dragon for an instant as they passed through a spot where the canopy of vines and branches thinned. It was circling inward, heading toward the center of the island. For obvious reasons, Hal opted to redirect their path toward the island’s ed
ge.

  They reached the cliffs overlooking the beach after ten minutes of silent jogging. Hal took stock of their situation, scanning the sand below and the jungle nearby to ensure that there was nobody else around. Then, he climbed down the cliff and dropped onto the sand, collapsing with his back against the wall of rock and letting out his breath.

  The girl followed him. It was only then that Hal stopped to consider why he’d brought her along in the first place. Saving her from Seventeen’s savagery was one thing, given that it had also presented him with a chance to attack the group and do his future self a favor. But, given the rules of the Dragongrounds, it seemed pointless to let her get attached or lead her on any further than necessary.

  Either I’m going to kill her, or someone else is. Why delay the inevitable?

  It was hard to tell from the expression on the girl’s face whether she was thinking similar thoughts. She was pretty, with freckles and the curly red hair Hal had recognized her by originally. Her breasts were small, but she still had a petite cuteness to her.

  “You can go,” said Hal. “I won’t attack you. You’re free to leave and do as you please.”

  The girl nodded. She stayed standing where she was. After a few seconds, she sat down on the sand across from him.

  “Did you hear me?” asked Hal. “You can go now.”

  “I heard you,” said the girl.

  There was another stretch of silence that made Hal feel annoyed, and a little awkward. The girl was unarmed, while he still carried his knife. He didn’t think that she was plotting to attack him, but it was impossible to know for sure.

  “There’s a cave just up the beach from here,” said the girl. “It’s hidden in between two rock outcroppings. Might be a nice place for us to rest for a while.”

  “Us?” Hal shook his head. “You understand how this game works, obviously. There is no us.”