Found in Night

by Ben Alderson

  Copyright © BEN ALDERSON 2018

  This edition published in 2018 by

  O F T O M E S P U B L I S H I N G

  U N I T E D K I N G D O M

  The right of BEN ALDERSON to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a retrieval system, in any form or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real people, alive or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Cover Art by Gwenn Danae

  Cover design by Eight Little Pages

  Interior book design by Eight Little Pages

  KIRSTY, FOR ALWAYS BEING MY ROCK.

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  THE CORPSE WAS caught in a silent scream.

  It was bent, arms and legs pinned awkwardly to the trunk of the giant tree before me. And it wasn’t the only body. I stood in the clearing of the forest, Nyah at my side, staring at the many dead nailed to the monstrous trees. I counted twelve. Twelve innocent lives stolen, their bodies hung up like decoration. My stomach twisted and turned. The forest, which only moments before had held me in grand awe, now filled my mind with horror.

  Golden blood dripped down the rusty brown bark. The same smeared blood covered each body; deliberate marks across their ashen skin.

  Whoever had killed the elves had to have been strong. Disturbed. It had taken time and effort. They were hanging statues, trapped in the pain of their final moments, mouths hanging wide with blood stained teeth. Nesta, the Alorian High Guard, had warned me of bandits and thugs waiting for wandering souls, but these murders were different.

  The sun shone upon the many Sigils etched into the forearms of each of the dead. Marks I had seen before.

  “Druid marks.” Nesta echoed what I was thinking, fiddling with the silver acorn that hung from the chain around her neck. “There exactly the same on the body of that missing Healer who turned up two days ago.”

  As Nesta mentioned the elfin woman, we all froze. Meryl was one of many missing elves to turn up covered in marks. Her fragile, broken body was found floating in the riverways below Kandilin, a sigil much like those before us etched into her bronze arm.

  "And the wound is fresh..." Nyah whispered, using the tip of her sharpened knife to move the dangling tunic which half-covered it. "Whoever did this made sure they had enough time to mark each of the bodies..."

  “You have sharp eyes.” Nesta walked towards the closest of the bodies and pulled a short, silver bone dagger from her belt. “I shall take this back to compare. It is clear this mark has importance, or why else would they craft them.”

  “Because the Druid knew we would find it. It’s a message,” Nyah said, low and urgent.

  Nesta ran the dagger down the arm. Her face contorted in discomfort as she sliced the skin surrounding the sigil, sinew and blood dripping as she pulled it away. I looked away and kept my gaze on Nyah, who was still watching. The sound almost made my morning’s food spill onto the forest bed.

  To distract myself, I connected to my air, feeling around the dark belly of the forest that imprisoned us. I reached past the four Alorian guards and Nesta, then Nyah who stood beside me. Spreading my reach as far as my power allowed, I searched for life. Each time I used my power, instinct took over. My awareness swam amongst the sea of trees. I brushed against every sun-kissed leaf, bark and twig. Lost to the group, I gave into my element. I was about to retract when I felt a slight shift in the wind. A warning.

  “We’re not alone,” I whispered, pulling back into my consciousness. The hairs on my arms stood on end, a sure sign my instincts were right.

  Nesta spared a glance at me then raised her hand in a signal. Within seconds, the guards were moving. They made no sound as they ran across the forest bed towards the trees closest. One by one they crawled like cats up the rough bark before them until they were concealed in the heavy, thick foliage above. I raised a hand and sent a volley of air across the forest bed. My action moved the leaves in a swirl until all footprints were covered beneath a fresh layer of debris.

  They left Nyah and me alone in the clearing of the forest just as we’d planned; although I had hoped this wouldn’t have been necessary. Since arriving in Kandilin, the Druid’s threat loomed over us. Everyday there was a possibility he would attack. The rush of my blood told me this was what was coming for us.

  "How many?” Nyah asked, already crouched with a hand on her sword. She, like Nesta and the guards, was dressed in the silvers and whites, her wild, red hair pinned from her face. The days in Kandilin had changed her appearance. The excess activity every day had carved out her cheekbones and pointed her jaw.

  "I couldn’t tell. Something didn’t feel right when—"

  Nyah raised a hand, silencing me. She closed her eyes, her ginger brows knotted. I’d seen this face of concentration back on the Island when she located Gallion and Hadrian during the Druid's ambush.

  “I don’t feel anyone’s emotion, but something is definitely not right.” Nyah kept her eyes closed as she relayed what she felt.

  “He is relying on us to find it.” My mind passed to Hadrian, as it did every day during our expeditions.

  “I know he is. And I want nothing more than to see Hadrian back to his normal, sarcastic self. But the moment I feel like you’re in danger, we are getting out of here. Plant or no plant,” she said firmly.

  I looked back to one of the bodies closest to me. A cold sensation passed up my arms and down my legs, making me heavy beneath the dead’s wide stare. “You’re taking this ‘protector’ task serious—”

  Before I could finish, figures dressed in black shadow burst through the tree line. Without a sound, they ran forward. Nyah sprang into action.

  Their sudden screams lit the clearing, breaking its silence. A flock of birds burst from their tree in fear. Nyah’s lip curled, and a powerful growl seeped between her clenched jaw.

  My eyes moved quickly to catch up with the blurring bodies.

  I fumbled for my sword, pulling it free at the last moment as the attackers flew across the space and greeted us.

  A light whish sounded above us. Arrows tipped with white feathers rained down from the trees. Lightning fast, they sped towa
rds the attackers. They didn’t miss. A handful of the attackers stopped as wood and metal impaled their bodies.

  The impaled looked at the arrows piercing their shadowed bodies, and the screams that followed sent my blood alight. The hidden guards shot another volley of arrows from behind them. The arrows hit their mark. For a moment, the attackers halted before picking up their speed again, unfazed. Only one went down and didn’t get back up, an arrow pierced from the back of her head through the front of her lifeless face.

  Nesta flipped out of the foliage of a pine tree. Mid-spin, she released an arrow, which lodged itself into the neck of one of the attackers just before it reached me.

  “RAISE YOUR SWORD!” Nesta screamed, turning quickly as another shadowed figure thrust a rusted blade at her. It missed her by inches. She spun and pulled a dagger free from her belt, slicing it across her attacker’s arm.

  Paralyzed with fear, I relied on those around me to keep the attackers at bay, trying to get a glance at them while they clawed and screeched at the group. For days, I had fantasied about fighting. I had trained enough for it. But now, in the face of these strange creatures, I was as frozen as the dead that watched from their trees.

  Nyah screamed. As if her cry was cold water, I was thrust out of my state of fear. I threw my hands out. A slash of wind raced towards those surrounding her. My magick ripped them from the ground and smashed them into the surrounding pines, raining pine needles down around them.

  In every direction, swords sliced into flesh. Where blood should have sprayed, black shadow dripped out. And no one fell; the attackers kept coming.

  There was a shift in the wind beside me, and I snapped my head to the left. Time slowed as I caught my reflection in the silver of a blade. A low grumbling vibrated from the attacker’s throat, turning my attention to its face.

  Inky veins spread across his face, each filled with shadow. His eyes bulged, the whites now blue and red, and the hue of his skin was death. I faltered for a moment, trying to take in the truth right before me.

  The attacker grunted and lunged. Stars burst behind my eyes as something heavy collided with my face. I stumbled back, covering my nose. My fingers were wet, warm and red.

  “Argh,” I cried, fueled by anger. My body flooded with it.

  I dropped my hands, palms covered in my own blood. With a flick, my metal gloves clicked, and my claws came free. I dove forward, lunging away from the swing of the blade again, and drove my metal claws into the attacker’s stomach.

  He leaned forward, mouth slack, and screamed. I cringed as spit splashed onto me. The wretched stench of death battered my senses. Flickering shadow escaped from his throat and reached out of his mouth. Like living tentacles, they tried to touch me, but I pushed him back with all my might. His head cracked against the ground; music to my ears.

  “Zacriah, to your left!” Nyah snapped.

  My reactions were too slow, and something hit the back of my neck, dragging me down to the ground. I turned briefly and saw the flash of yellowed teeth. But as quickly as my attacker moved, he stopped, eyes rolling into the back of his head. Black shadow dispersing into the air around us. His head began to slip from his shoulders, a clean line separating it from the body. As the head tumbled to the ground, rolling to a stop before my feet, I caught Nyah standing behind him, sword extended.

  Nyah nodded, chest rising and falling deeply. Then she joined the fight.

  I spun, readying myself. I reached for the sword I dropped when a high-pitched laugh turned my blood to ice.

  It was a young girl. In the afternoon light, I could see her disheveled appearance; blood hair frayed around her plump face, the same look of death clinging to her skin and expression.

  She moved with great speed. Black smoke seeped from her body as she ducked and dived from my advances. Words mumbled from her cut lips as she brought the bone club down on my shin. The pain was unbearable. I dropped to my knee, bringing up my arms to block another one of her hits. For a small girl, she packed a punch, unearthly strength filling her animated body.

  I threw my hands up and sent my air into her body before she brought down another smash of her club. I burst into her lungs, trying to latch onto the air within, but there was none to find. No breath within her small body.

  Lashing a whip of air at her legs, she fell, giving me a moment to stumble away from her.

  She raised her head and looked up at me. “Master needs you.”

  Her voice was rough and strained.

  “Master needs you,” she repeated, rising from the ground.

  I knew who she spoke of.

  She ran again, but I was quicker this time.

  I pulled a short dagger from the leather holder on my belt and thrust the silver metal into her stomach.

  She looked at the dagger half buried in her then smiled so widely, it sent a shiver coursing through my spine.

  “Master forgives you.” She pushed herself closer, making the dagger slip deeper into her.

  I dropped my hold on the hilt and stumbled backwards. She showed no sign of pain as she began her prowl towards me.

  “He needs you. I need you.” Her voice deepened until it registered in my mind. I had heard it before.

  “THE HEAD.” I could hear Nyah shouting somewhere behind me. “SEVER THE HEAD!”

  “Won’t you come and ask for forgiveness? Sorry, sorry, sorry,” she sang, running a small finger across the dagger’s hilt.

  “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”

  With each apology she sang, I felt the bubbling change begin, as if she called it forward.

  I’d only connected to my Dragori form once before, and even then, the pain was nothing like it was now. When the coven of empaths successfully unlocked the block Gallion had placed within me all those years ago, it was equally freeing and terrifying.

  My body was a hurricane, roaring from the inside out. I felt my bones snap and skin rip, shredding to allow for my inner being to come through. The forest, the attack, the girl melted from my vision.

  Time didn’t matter during the shift. In my mind, it felt like hours had passed, whereas in truth it occurred within the blink of an eye.

  A new rush of power flooded over me, cleansing my mind of panic.

  The forest was a wash of new colors, smells and sounds. Everything heightened in my beastly form. I could hear the girl’s footsteps, smell the dried copper of blood in her mouth.

  My wings moved first. With a mind of their own, they thrust towards the girl and sliced at her neck. The claw on the tip of my wing caught flesh and pulled back with force. A chunk of skin and muscle came away, and the girl’s head tilted to its side. There was no blood, but the gash on her neck burst with shadow, snaking and dancing between the severed skin. Still, she smiled.

  “What are you…” I growled, wings readying for another slice.

  “Master’s fa—”

  I gasped as her head popped from her shoulders and tumbled to the ground. Nyah stood breathless behind her, black shadow clinging to her sword.

  “I said the head!” she spluttered, red-faced.

  The rest of the headless body just stood there, immobilized. Behind Nyah, two other bodies stood in the same positions; the rest were laid out on the floor, including one of our guards.

  The fight was over, but I felt like it had only just begun.

  “What in Volcras are they?” Smoke seeped from the necks of the headless bodies.

  I took cautious steps towards the young girl’s body.

  “I don’t know, but we’re not staying around any longer to find out.” Nyah reached out for my arm and pulled me away. Stepping around me, Nyah pushed the body, and it toppled under her touch. The moment it hit the ground, it burst in a cloud of smoke and stench. We reeled back, coughing.

  “The Druid,” I said, waving a cloud from my face. “We are standing in his web. He knew we were coming.”

  It was impossible to believe someone in Kandilin would sell out our plans, but it was the only explanation.<
br />
  “Apologies for the interruption, but I believe there are more sympathizers nearby. I suggest leaving immediately and returning to Kandilin,” Nesta said. She was a sharp looking elf, her long honey hair scraped off her face into a knot. There was a splatter of golden blood on her face, highlighting her sharp cheekbones and pointed chin. “I have never seen this before, the dead alive once again.”

  She must’ve caught me looking, as she pulled a laced cloth from beneath her breast plate and cleaned the splatter. “The Druid has his dark grasp on our people now.” She gestured to the bodies scattering the floor, a prang of sadness covering her striking eyes.

  “Are there records that could help us understand what power or dark magick the Druid has over the dead?” Nyah asked, plucking the cloth from Nesta’s hand and rubbing it across her damp forehead.

  “Since the Druids supposed defeat on his ship, news has spread of sympathizers—twisted Alorian elves who’ve idolized Druids since their fall many years ago. And it seems those rumors are true. I don’t know what this means, other than it is not wise that we stay a moment longer.”

  Throughout her speech, I noticed Nesta’s constant glance at me and the slight pinch of her brow. Nyah too couldn’t keep her eyes off me. For a moment, I’d forgotten about the wings and curled horns on my head, or the fact I stood inches taller than them both.

  Conscious under their stares, I called forth my elven form.

  The shiver started at my feet and pulsed across my body. I scrunched my eyes against the discomfort that still haunted my mind from the ritual. By the time I opened my eyes, I knew I was back to normal. My uniform was ripped and seems stretched from my Dragori form. The forest was dull once again, all sound and smells lost to me.

  “Well, that was… impressive,” Nyah muttered, shaking her head.

  “I’m still not used to it,” I replied, fiddling with my hands. Maybe the dead Alorian guard would still be alive if I had used my power straight away. I couldn’t help but add the weight of his death to my shoulders.

  Nesta placed two fingers into her mouth. The high-pitched whistle filled the forest around us. A piercing cry responded. We all looked up as three amber griffins passed overhead. Their silver armor reflected light across the forest bed. I raised a hand to block the bright glint of light.