Priamos glanced at his uncles Brutus and Reth. When they gave him encouraging looks, he straightened his shoulders and said, “I can do it.”
“No, you can’t. I won’t have the death of a child on my conscience.”
“I’ll watch out for him. He’s my student.” Orion put a hand on Priamos’s shoulder.
The lad crinkled his nose at his teacher, but didn’t argue with him. Great, a mentor who’s overprotective and a pair of uncles with excessive egos.
“Fine. He’s your responsibility. I won’t so much as take a scratch for the kid,” Cassidy relented.
Burrin idled in the group.
“Didn’t I tell you to get out of here?”
“I’ve lived a full life—I’d gladly give my last moments for Illithium,” he said.
Cassidy rubbed his face. He hated the self-sacrificing ploy.
“You aren’t going to go away, are you?” Cassidy asked, peeking through the crack of his fingers at the men.
“No.”
Cassidy dropped his hand to his side. “I suppose you have a horse, or somethin’. I’m not slowing down—for any of you.”
“Not exactly a horse,” Jarodiic grinned.
The man put two fingers in his mouth and whistled. A sudden wind picked up. Leaves, dirt, and branches soared through the air, and the debris swirled from the ground upward, producing twelve elemental stags. Soil partials, leaves and loosely twined branches lined muscular legs and well-defined bodies, while braided twig antlers topped regal heads. Small black stones stared at the road before them. Cassidy kept his amazement off his face. These men would have to do more than that to win his approval.
Cassidy rode hard for half the day with the men on their stags, racing alongside him. As the day fell into evening, he sensed his followers dropping behind. Just in time, too. His leg was throbbing. He refused to slow down earlier, otherwise the mage and his entourage might think this journey would be easy. If he could, he hoped to deter them early, it would be better to return home with only their pride broken.
Dusty slowed from a full sprint into a brisk trot, allowing the men to catch their breath. Deep shadows crawled across the earth. The group had successfully traveled over thirty miles.
“We’ll camp here and continue in the morning,” Cassidy said, dismounting Dusty. He cringed as he swung his bad leg to the ground.
“Jarrod,” Cassidy said.
“Jarodiic,” The man corrected.
Cassidy waved dismissively. “Can you build us some cover?”
“I’d be happy to as long as I’m not getting in your way,” he smirked.
Cassidy scowled at the mage as he lifted his hand in the air. Within seconds, he had encompassed the camp in thick trees and brush. Cassidy hated it, but Jarodiic was proving useful.
Cassidy made quick work of setting up his bedroll—ready for the night in minutes. He turned and waited as the guardsmen cleared a place for their bedrolls. They were slow. They weren’t raised for this lifestyle, he reminded himself as he built a fire pit in the dirt.
13
V allerie sighed as she rode away from her husband. Her stomach knotted. She prayed they would return from this goodbye with a hello. Her heart drummed harder as she thought about his injured leg. She trusted Warren, but was there really no alternative that allowed Cassidy to rest? She remembered the battles she had fought while injured. In this war, there was no rest for the wounded.
She drifted listlessly through the halls of her memories. Very few didn’t involve Cassidy. They had been married for eight years now, and they’d stood by one another for the better part of two decades.
Vallerie smiled as she recalled their wedding. The flurry of excitement, the aroma of her white alstroemeria bouquet, the taste of Cassidy’s kiss. She bit her lip. Their first night as husband and wife flashed to mind.
Fiery blood flooded her body as she thought of the passion that night had brought. Even now, she loved the savor of his kiss and his shaggy hair between her fingers. Though she preferred his face clean shaven, but considering his near death, she didn’t even resent his scruffy cheeks.
Half the day had passed, and Vallerie relaxed into the saddle as she rode through the spotted afternoon sun. Navigating the swamp only required a small amount of thought. Most of the time, Echo redirected herself if she didn’t like where she was about to step.
But then, without warning, Echo panicked. Vallerie struggled to control the horse, her heart pounding, but whatever lurked beyond kept the horse anxious. She spun around, searching for the threat, but all she saw were dying trees and fog. Vallerie gritted her teeth. The swamp grew quiet.
A sloshing sound directed her attention forward. Fifty feet in front of her was a shambling kellnox escorted by five drevics. Vallerie cursed under her breath and steered Echo to the right. Without hesitation, the mare bolted. Beads of marsh water splashed Vallerie’s face.
A shadow bolt crashed into the bog a foot to the side of Echo. Vallerie growled, leaning lower in the saddle. She had to get away. She guided her horse to a stretch of land before her, hoping that traveling on dry ground would allow Echo to run faster.
A shriek from behind warned Vallerie of an impending attack. She clung to her horse’s neck as something collided with her spine. The collision jerked her sideways in her saddle, and whatever attacked her, thudded to the ground. Screaming, with effort, she yanked herself upright and checked her course. Being thrown to the side had knocked Echo to the left. Vallerie turned Echo back to the right as more howls shrieked behind her. Please make it, Vallerie begged silently.
Another shadow bolt struck the earth in front of her. Echo reared with a panicked whinny. Vallerie fought for control but forced her horse forward just as a drevic got within striking distance. The beast leapt with its four arms outstretched. Vallerie twisted and kicked the drevic in the face.
Echo reached the patch of land and launched ahead of their assailants. The strip was only a quarter mile long but put enough distance between Vallerie and her attackers to lose them.
Every sound other than the snort of Echo’s breaths put Vallerie on edge. The wind chilled her wet skin, but she refused to slow down. She raced onward until the sun began to set and the dirt was almost solid again.
Slowing her horse to a trot, and she scanned the area for a place to camp. A tall tree on a flat bit of ground caught her attention. Alone, she wouldn’t be able to sleep on the ground and protect her horse, so the location was ideal for the unideal situation. She skewered the salted meat in her pack on a stick, cooking up a hearty meal. After feeding her horse, she settled into the branches of the tree above. Without Cassidy’s warmth, the night chill chattered her teeth. It would have been bitter with or without him. The fall had been exceptionally chilly this year. She hoped they were able to light the beacon and be home before it started snowing.
Cassidy loved the snow. He’d spend hours out in it, building fortresses and causing trouble, just to come inside, where she would be curled up by the fire, and force his way into her blankets. Vallerie smiled at the memory as she drifted off to sleep. Even the thought of his icy cuddles seemed to warm her.
A beastly screech woke her. Vallerie nearly fell from her branch as she scrambled to her feet. The moonlight illuminated a horrific scene below. Echo lay on the ground with a kellnox crouched over her.
“NO!” Vallerie screamed.
She lunged from the branch as the kellnox jerked upright. Her dagger tore through the monster’s face. Dirt shoved itself into her mouth as she collided with the earth. She pushed herself to her knees and spat out the soil.
Vallerie scrambled to Echo and examined the mare’s wounded neck. A jagged, foot-long rip gushed blood.
“Echo…” Vallerie pleaded.
The horse didn’t move. With trembling fingers, she petted Echo’s black mane. She’d trained Echo as a colt. The mount was every bit as much a warrior as anyone she had fought alongside.
Tears welled in Vallerie’s eyes.
This couldn’t be happening.
Vallerie stifled the wail building in her chest; monsters might come after her. But it hurt. Not crying hurt so much more than letting a howl tear through her lungs. She crumpled over her dead horse, trapping her sorrow, a poison festering in her soul. Silently, she let the tears fall as she said goodbye to another friend lost to this wretched war. Senkaar would be punished for his atrocities.
Vallerie wiped her eyes as she sat up. Black gore stained her hands. The swamp water smelled dirty, but kellnox smelled worse. Vallerie scrubbed the blood from her face. The foulness of death faded somewhat, though she still felt like she had algae and scum in her pores.
The terror and battle-rush that had made her so alert moments ago withered, and her exhaustion from traveling returned. She found a new tree nearby. It was shorter than her earlier perch, but the distance from her dead horse and the kellnox made it worth the compromise.
She tried to comfort herself with thoughts of Cassidy as she settled into the branches, but it only made her heart ache more.
Sunlight woke Vallerie, though it didn’t warm her. She wished to roll over and sleep for a while longer, to let the pain from the night before vanish, but she had to keep moving. Without her horse, she would have to spend every minute traveling on foot. She should be able to get to the stronghold and return to the city in thirty days, but she would have to move fast. Vallerie stretched and dropped to the ground.
Her stomach grumbled. A heaviness settled within as she prepared to gather supplies from Echo’s body. She had to do this. If she failed, she and everyone on the team would die.
She approached the dapple-gray mound a few yards from the tree where she had spent the night. She held her breath as she passed the faceless kellnox. A part of her wanted to feel sympathetic for the person the creature used to be. But the part of her that mourned her horse cried out louder.
Vallerie couldn’t free the saddle from Echo’s body, preventing her from retrieving any of her maps. The adrax fortress maps would have been good to have on hand, but with so many variations, she would have had to figure out where to go as she went anyway. Her biggest concern was getting back to the city. Without that map, it would be easy to get lost. She’d have to deal with that when she came to it. There was a chance, albeit small, that the adrax would have a stolen map somewhere in their stronghold.
Her mood soured further as she gathered two meals from the saddlebag. Trying to carry more would slow her down too much. She’d have to use the resources in the forest.
Vallerie scanned her surroundings. Wilted shrubs and rotten grass dotted the dying ground. The worst part of the Darkness wasn’t its armies. It was the infection it spread across the land.
With food and water secured, she said a last goodbye to her noble mare and resumed her journey.
Once again, as night descended, Vallerie scaled one of the sturdier trees and settled near the top. She stared into the night, wondering when it would end. How could five people hope to save this realm? The team was strong, but they were facing an entire army that had crippled every realm. It didn’t seem possible. But then, maybe their few-in-number was the reason they survived. In a place as big as the world, spotting a five-man rebellion was hard. Maybe they wouldn’t need an army to reach the beacon. At least, that’s what Vallerie hoped.
14
“Who are you?” Warren squinted at the outline of a man behind a bright light.
“Why are you here?” a grizzled voice said.
“Why’s that any of your concern?”
A sudden wall of wind crashed into Warren, throwing him over the edge of the abyss. His stomach leapt into his throat, but he didn’t fall. Currents of air supported his weight as he hovered on the cusp of the cliff. What just happened?
“Why are you here?” the man repeated.
Warren scowled. The winds lurched downward.
“I’m looking for something.” Warren blurted.
The currents supported him again.
“What?”
Warren ground his teeth. “An ancient tome.”
The man stood silent for a moment.
“You’d be better off if I killed you now.”
Warren tried to fight his way back to safety, but he was suspended helplessly.
“Fine, but kill me after I get it,” Warren said.
“You’d offer your life so quickly?”
“People’s lives are counting on that book.”
The air behind Warren pushed him back onto the edge where he could stand on his own, then dissipated. The light dimmed, and Warren saw the man.
His gray hair brushed his shoulders and matched his wiry beard. His worn face accentuated the brown eyes that stared at Warren with wary distrust. While he appeared to be twice Warren’s age, he was not by any means weak. His arms folded over his barrel chest, rivaled Warren’s in size. However, Warren recognized every kingdom’s crest in the region, except this man’s. The chest plate bore the face of a lion, with shoulder armoring to match. It looked ancient—that style hadn’t been used in a century, at least.
“Who are you?” the man asked.
“General Northwright.”
“General?” the man scoffed. “You’re still a child.”
Warren bristled. Thirty-two was nowhere near young enough to be called a child. He exhaled, whomever he was speaking with had magical abilities, which put Warren at a tremendous disadvantage.
“You are?”
“You may call me Paladin. Why is it you seek this tome?”
“I need the magical power within it to save lives.”
Paladin stared long and hard at Warren, who returned an equally hard stare.
“You shouldn’t be down here,” Paladin said.
“I’ve been getting told that a lot lately.” Warren exhaled.
“Whatever lives you’ll be saving, that book isn’t worth the trouble.”
“I’m not leaving without it. Either you tell me where it is, or I’ll find it on my own.”
Paladin hesitated. “You’re not like most men, are you?”
“Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not. What’s it matter?”
Paladin narrowed his eyes before finally yielding. “I’ll take you there on one condition.”
“What’s your condition?”
“You follow my lead and do exactly as I tell you.”
“Understood.”
Paladin led Warren through the darkness to another tunnel entrance. They twisted down paths and passed dozens of offshoots.
Paladin stopped at a dead end.
“Are we lost?” Warren’s brow furrowed.
“I didn’t tell you to speak,” Paladin said. He reached out and formed a ladder from the dust in the air, then climbed up.
Warren tested the rungs. They were as sturdy as steel. The situation churned his stomach, but it was his only chance at finding the book.
The dust ladder led to a small alcove housing a bedroll and a fire ring.
“Stay here and get some rest,” Paladin ordered. The old man sat with his back to the wall.
Warren narrowed his eyes at Paladin as he sat across from him.
“I wasn’t expecting to find a human here,” Warren said.
“I wasn’t expecting anyone would be daft enough to enter,” Paladin huffed.
Warren ignored the insult. “Why are you here?”
He caught a glimpse of pain on the man’s face before he spoke.
“It’s none of your concern.”
“Fine. What do you know about the book?”
“You wandered down here without knowing what you are looking for? Daft indeed.”
Warren’s fists clenched. He would lose if he fought the mage. Exhaling, he relaxed his hands.
“Enlighten me.”
Paladin raised a bushy eyebrow.
“It’s a conduit for the Magnus Realm. Why it was created is a mystery. I doubt an Ajoiner mage can wield it. This cave is the result of the last time an unready hand opened it.�
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Warren’s concern deepened. If the council didn’t know what they were doing, they could destroy their home and thousands of lives.
“You’re not a mage, so why do you seek it?” Paladin asked.
“It’s none of your concern.”
Paladin eyed him. “No, I guess not.”
Warren didn’t trust the man, but he didn’t seem like the type to kill him in his sleep. He leaned back and closed his eyes. Whatever the morning brought, he wanted to be ready for it.
“Wake up.”
Warren’s eyes snapped open. The fire was out, and Paladin stood near the drop off. Warren shook off his drowsiness and rose.
Paladin produced a chain from around his neck. An elegantly carved black phoenix dangled from the end.
“What’s that?”
“Caeleste avem.” Paladin exhaled over the charm.
The black feathers turned red and glowed brighter than their campfire.
For once, Warren understood what had happened. Ruben once explained to him that items could be imbued with magical abilities. He had a ring that enabled him to sense life around him. As a kid, that had that always frustrated Warren. So long as Ruben was around, his plots failed.
Equipped with his sword, Paladin conjured a new dust ladder.
“Climb down,” he ordered.
Warren nodded and climbed to the bottom.
Paladin led the way through the darkness to where the passageway branched, then started down the path on the right.
Within minutes, they came to another branch in the cavern. One trail led uphill. The other led deeper into the cave.
“Which way?” Warren asked.
“Left.” Paladin walked downhill.
“How do you know where you’re going?” Warren asked.
“I’ve memorized these tunnels. It’s time you explained yourself. Why’s this book so important to you?”
“It’s a long story,” Warren said.
“We have time.”
Warren hesitated, but explained his mission as vaguely as possible.
“And you’re sure about this ancient source of light? I’ve been around for a long time, but I’ve never heard anything regarding this...beacon,” Paladin said.
The Ajoiner Realm (Defenders of Radiance Book 1) Page 11
