The Elder Stones Saga Boxset: Books 1-3

by D. K. Holmberg

  “There’s nothing noble about the way you hurt others.”

  “We don’t hurt. We provide order. Stability. How many places have you visited where lawlessness is the rule? The Ai’thol aim to provide order.”

  “The Ai’thol only want to serve as the law.”

  “How else could we provide order if we didn’t?”

  The Forger stared at Haern for a moment, and then he jerked his foot free, standing back, watching Haern, a dark gleam in his eye. “And here I thought I would have to work harder to bring you here. Now that you’re here, you will find, much like your father, that there is no escaping from this place.”

  “I’m not going to escape.”

  “Oh?”

  “I’m not going to need to escape,” Haern said, getting to his feet and looking around him. There was nothing but stone, and it reminded him somewhat of Ilphaesn. The air stank, which was another clue. He needed to piece together everything he could, so that if the Forger didn’t tell him where he was, he could come up with it on his own when—and if—he managed to get out of here. “I’m not going to need to escape because you are going to take me back.”

  The Forger laughed darkly. “Lareth, you have not yet begun to understand. But you will. You will.”

  36

  Haern

  There was little warning of an attack.

  Haern felt a sense of movement behind him and realized a moment too late that it came from the sense of lorcith.

  Why should there be lorcith surging near him?

  He spun around, his gaze sweeping around him, and as he did, he realized that there were several others near him. Many of them had lorcith on them.

  As he turned, trying to understand what was taking place, he realized that the sense of lorcith wasn’t on them. Whatever lorcith he detected was in them.

  All were armed, and the weapons they carried weren’t lorcith blades. If they had been, he might have an advantage. There was nothing here that he thought he could use. He hesitated a moment, straining to reach lorcith, hoping that if nothing else, he could find perhaps a coin, a knife, a sword, but why would the Forgers make that mistake?

  He knew they wouldn’t.

  One of the Forgers Slid toward him, and Haern pushed out his hands, bracing himself, and the Forger went flying away when he emerged from the Slide.

  Strange.

  Maybe there was someone else here.

  How could someone else be here? How could someone else fight alongside him?

  They couldn’t.

  Which meant that it had been him.

  He looked over at his hands. Now that his vision had cleared, the changes to his palms were clear. The metal went through, but there was no more blood, and it seemed almost as if the metal had smoothed over his palm. It hurt when he clenched his hands into fists, but not like he would have expected. Every so often, the electrical jolt still came through him, but now he was able to ignore it.

  When another of the Forgers Slid toward him, Haern pushed again.

  This time he did it intentionally.

  He focused on the lorcith he detected within the Forger, and with it, he sent a surge of his connection to the metal outward, and the Forger went tumbling head over feet, rolling across the room.

  The connection to lorcith was far greater than he had ever had before. Could the metal they had used on him have changed him?

  That was the only explanation. It was the same way Lucy had been changed, her own natural abilities augmented and perhaps even added to. Though he didn’t want to gain abilities in such a way, he couldn’t deny the usefulness.

  If he could continue to employ this, he might be able to—

  Something struck him from behind, and Haern went staggering. Catching himself, he turned around, swinging his arm, but he swung into nothingness.

  He was struck from the other side, and again he went staggering.

  They were Sliding into him from all sides.

  How many Forgers were here?

  Haern focused on what he could detect of them, and faintly, the awareness of several Forgers drifted to him. There were five—no, six—and they surrounded him. The longer he waited, the more Forgers appeared.

  A troubling idea came to him.

  What would happen if the main Forger appeared?

  Olandar Fahr.

  He’d heard the name but didn’t know anything about him other than that he was powerful. Then again, if he found him, he might be able to find his father.

  He needed to do something quickly. The only thing he thought he might be able to do would be to grab the Forger who had brought him here and force him to bring him back to the temple.

  Could he figure out which of the Forgers that was?

  He turned slowly, and as he did, he detected the lorcith within that Forger.

  It was faint, a trace amount, but as he detected it, he pulled on it.

  A muted cry was his reward.

  The Forger slammed into him, and Haern was ready, having braced for it, and he wrapped his arms around the Forger, grabbing the man.

  When the next attack struck him, a surge of lorcith that suddenly appeared, Haern spun around, letting the Forger take the brunt of it.

  “Call them off.”

  The Forger laughed again. “You don’t understand.”

  “Call them off,” he said.

  “And why would I do that? There is no way you will make it out of here. There are too many of us, and while you may have gained an understanding of lorcith in the time since you and I met, you aren’t strong enough. Rsiran Lareth isn’t strong enough.”

  At the mention of his father’s name, Haern squeezed, choking the Forger, silencing him. Rage and anger filled him, and he turned, spinning around at each of the Forgers as they tried to Slide toward him. He pushed, sending them away, and found it was simply easier to create a shielding around him, a bubble that he continually pushed against; the Forgers couldn’t Slide past it.

  That would be useful, but only if he managed to survive.

  He dragged the Forger with him, pulling him across the ground as he made his way through the chamber. Again and again Forgers tried to reach him, but he was still able to hold out against them. Eventually, Haern suspected he would fade. The moment he did, he would suffer an attack he might not be able to resist, but for now he would get through here.

  More than ever, he was certain his father was here. If he could reach Rsiran, rescue him, then he wouldn’t need this Forger to bring him out. He could have his father bring him.

  Haern almost let go of the Forger but realized his father wouldn’t know how to find the temple.

  He was going to save those women.

  He reached the doorway. It was ornate, carvings and symbols along it incredibly decorative, and he paused, staring at it for a moment before hurrying through. If he could get through this, there might be time to look and understand those symbols later. For now, all he needed to do was get out of here. Once through the doorway, an orange light glowed in the distance. The tunnel continued forward, sweeping high overhead, much higher than was necessary. Was this only for decoration, or could there be another reason that they had carved it in such a way?

  The Forger started to moan, and Haern wrapped his arms around the man again, squeezing once more. There remained the temptation to do more than just choke him out, but he resisted. He needed this Forger, and until he got back to the temple, until he was able to help those he had promised to help, he wasn’t going to be the reason that they suffered. Not again.

  At the end of the wall, he paused. There was another doorway, this one arching quite a bit higher over his head, enough so that he had to crane his neck to see the peak. Once through, heat slammed into him.

  Lava.

  That was what he had seen from a distance, and that was the cause of the soft glowing, but how was it he hadn’t felt anything before now?

  He backed up through the doorway, and as he did, the air temperature dropped considera
bly.

  They must have used something to prevent heat from escaping. Impressive.

  Sound from behind him caught his attention, and Haern continued to push outward with his lorcith barrier, marveling briefly at the fact he was able to do something like that at all. He went back to the doorway. He had no idea if he was heading in the right direction or if there were other places within the Ai’thol hideout that he would find his father, but there hadn’t seemed to be anything else when he had been in that first chamber. This had been the only way.

  Unless there was another way by Sliding.

  Most of the Forgers had the ability to Slide, and they wouldn’t need halls or stairs or anything. If they could Slide through here, then they wouldn’t be limited in any way.

  Yet, he had a hard time believing all of the Forgers could Slide. What would they do if they were injured? He and his father had injured the Forgers often enough that there would have to be some other way for them to navigate their hideout.

  The walkway along the lava was probably twenty or thirty paces wide, wide enough that he could stay away from the edge of it, but curiosity called him forward. Why would the Ai’thol choose this place?

  It was a strange location, and even if he managed to escape, he wasn’t sure he would be able to figure out why they had made this their hideout. How many volcanoes existed? And this might not even be an open and active volcano. It was possible they used a place that was inactive. If this was deep beneath the earth, buried, he might never have found it on his own.

  The Forger moaned again, and Haern resisted the urge to choke him out. Let him come back around. With his newfound control over lorcith, he wondered if he could prevent the Forger from getting away from him. Maybe there was no way he could.

  He followed the path, winding along the lava, staying away from the edge. He wanted nothing to do with it. Heat continued to build, pushing on him, and after going for a while, he began to wonder if he would be able to withstand this. Or would the chamber be too much for him? Would the heat overwhelm him?

  Another opening loomed in front of him, as tall as the last. Haern paused at it, focusing on a sense of lorcith, but detected nothing.

  He continued onward, passing several other massive doorways much like the last, and at each of them he paused, focusing on the sense of lorcith, but he found nothing.

  Finally, he came to a smaller doorway.

  There was no sense of lorcith, but he was drawn along, hurrying forward, expecting he could find something here. There had to be something, didn’t there?

  Doors along the hall caught his attention. At the first one, he paused, leaning up against it. He tested the handle and found it locked. Haern considered forcing his way in but continued on. There were other doors much like it, all of them locked.

  When he had made his way halfway down the hall, he understood what it was.

  Cells.

  His heart hammered. Could this be where his father was?

  If so, could he rescue him?

  He didn’t know how much time he had left, and the longer he lingered, the more likely it was someone would reach him. If more and more of the Forgers appeared, he wasn’t sure how well his new control over lorcith would protect him. It was possible he would be forced away.

  There was nothing to do but start.

  Racing forward, he reached the first door, slamming himself against it. He hammered at it with his shoulder, ignoring pain that surged through him with each crash into the wood. When it finally splintered and popped open, he looked inside and saw an old man sitting in the center of the room. The man had a long beard, wrinkled skin, and hollowed eyes. He looked up at Haern before turning his attention back to the ground.

  Not his father.

  Haern made his way down the hall, reaching the next door, and when he did, he slammed into it much like he had the first. It took fewer blows this time before he managed to get it open, and when he did, he froze. An older woman sat in the middle of the room, much like the man in the other room had. She looked up, greasy hair falling in front of her face, obscuring her eyes.

  A part of him wanted to go to her and help, but that wasn’t why he was here.

  Dragging the Forger with him, he continued onward, reaching the next door. He knew how much force was required to slam into it and threw himself against it, again and again. The door crashed open.

  There was another man in this room, his dark skin making age difficult to determine, and his head shorn. Wounds were healing on his face, and yellow bruises ran along both arms.

  Haern turned away. Door after door was the same. Each time he kicked one open, looking inside, he expected to come across his father, but each time he was disappointed. There was no sign of Rsiran, and each room had someone inside, making him wonder why the Forgers held so many people here. In several of the cells, people lay unmoving. Their bodies were wasted, and the stench within the rooms left him thinking that they were dead.

  Haern started to count how many people had already died by the time he opened the cell and gave up when he got to double digits. Nearly half of the cells.

  How could the Forgers leave them like this?

  The man he was dragging began to come around.

  Haern dropped him on the ground, propping him near one of the walls. He held on to the strange connection he now had to lorcith, pushing so he wouldn’t be able to Slide, and waited for the man to come around. When he did, Haern nudged him with a toe.

  “Still fighting, Lareth?” the man asked, his gaze lingering down the hallway before turning back to Haern. “You see you can’t succeed. You will join the rest.”

  “Where’s my father?”

  The Forger attempted to Slide, and when he did, he slammed into the barrier Haern now held.

  The Forger turned to him. He tried to Slide again, the translucent shimmering that came with each attempt drawing Haern’s attention. He pushed the Forger back, throwing him against the wall before pulling him once more toward him.

  “Did you intend to give me a gift?”

  “Ah, Lareth. If only you understood everything taking place, but all of this is so far beyond you.”

  “Where is my father?” The Forger attempted to Slide again, but once again, Haern held on to him, pushing him back. “You gave me this ability. I’m not going to let you succeed.”

  “How do you intend to escape?”

  “Where is he?”

  The Forger stood, far more casually than Haern would’ve expected, and he let his gaze drift along the hallway. “How many doors have you opened? How many more do you think you can open before others get here? How long do you think you can withstand our attack?”

  “As long as I need to.”

  He noticed Sliding coming from down the hall; there wouldn’t be much time remaining. The moment someone else Slid to him, the others would follow. Already it was likely they had discovered where he had gone.

  It was time for him to finish this, but he was not about to leave without his father.

  Haern pulled the Forger to him, and he shifted the focus of how he used his connection, continuing to push outward, holding him in place. The longer he worked with lorcith in this way, the easier it was.

  “You’re going to help,” Haern said.

  “Help? I don’t—”

  Haern pushed him, sending him into one of the nearest doors.

  It crashed open, and Haern pulled on the Forger, preventing him from falling on whoever was inside. He glanced past the Forger, realize that it wasn’t his father before moving on to another. It was easier to push on the Forger, to use his body weight to crash into the doors, and as he did, he managed to open one after another. All of the cells were occupied, something that didn’t surprise him at all. What surprised him was just how many cells were here.

  So far, none of them held his father.

  When he reached the end of the hall, he realized there were no more.

  Had he come all this way to fail?

  The F
orger looked at him, a sneer still twisting his mouth, and Haern had a sinking feeling he might not succeed. Where else could he go? He dragged the Forger with him as he made his way along the hallway, staggering forward.

  “You see how you will fail, Lareth. You see that your fate will be much like your father’s.”

  “He’s here. Tell me where he is.”

  “I’ve already told you where he is. He’s gone.”

  “He’s not gone. My father is too strong to be defeated by you.”

  “And who says he was defeated by me? I am not the one you need to fear. And I am not the one who destroyed your father.”

  Haern stopped in the middle of the row of cells, holding on to his connection to lorcith, and looked around him. Could his father be gone?

  He had planned on finding his father, thinking that all he needed to do was find the Forgers, to figure out where they would bring Rsiran, and then he could rescue his father, bring him back to Elaeavn and his mother. More than that, he needed his father to help get him out of here.

  Instead, he failed.

  The Forger laughed, the sound ripping at some part of Haern.

  He had been a fool. He should have known better, should have known that his father could not survive captivity that long. The Forgers wanted to destroy him. How could they not? His father had hunted them for years, tracking them, tormenting them, removing them as a threat.

  When they had an opportunity to return the favor, it was not at all surprising that they would do so.

  It had been a long time. Long enough no one could have survived in captivity.

  And he had seen what happened to others in these cells, the way the Forgers had been willing to leave them, to torment them until they died. So why should he think his father would be any different?

  It came from believing his father was incredibly powerful, but he was still only a man. There was no way anyone could survive captivity like this, not even his father.

  Perhaps that had been his mistake.

  Haern dragged the Forger with him. When he reached the end of the row of cells, he turned to the Forger. The faint shimmering of movement started to draw his attention, enough that there would be other Forgers appearing.