Forgotten Ages (The Complete Series)

by Lindsay Buroker

  “Tikaya, this way,” Agarik urged, not from behind but from ahead.

  She cursed. Had she just shot at him?

  By the time she lunged to her feet, her eyes adjusted enough to see the intersection. Bones lay on his belly, blood pooling beneath his head. Agarik waved for her to hurry.

  “What the—” Ottotark blurted, a hundred meters or more down the tunnel behind her.

  Tikaya sprinted for Agarik. His pistol, not her bow, had felled the doctor. He pulled her around the corner as another shot fired. The pistol ball clanged off the corner and ricochetted down the tunnel.

  “Traitor!” Ottotark screamed.

  “No time to reload,” Agarik said as they ran toward the intersection that could take them back to the cavern. “You’ll have to shoot if he catches up.”

  “Understood,” Tikaya said grimly.

  She glanced back to see if Ottotark had rounded the corner yet and missed the reason Agarik skidded to a stop, cursing. He flung his arm out to halt her as well.

  A cube hovered in the intersection ahead.

  She slammed a fist against her thigh. She should have known—the whole reason for turning the lighting back on had been to power one of the cubes. With the mess from the explosives, all of them would probably respond.

  “Maybe it’ll go on to the cavern,” she whispered.

  It rotated, and its crimson orifice came into view.

  “Back, back.” Agarik spun, taking her with him.

  Tikaya ran at his side. They would have to take their chances with Ottotark.

  “Zag,” she barked on a hunch.

  She pushed Agarik one way and ducked against the opposite wall. A red beam seared the air between them.

  As soon as it faded, they sprinted off again. Tikaya nocked the bow as she ran. Any second—

  Ottotark lunged around the corner, pistol pointed at them. She fired without slowing, and it threw off her aim. The arrow skimmed past his head, stirring his hair, but doing no damage.

  He must have seen the cube coming, for he looked between them and cursed before choosing a target. Tikaya.

  Agarik hurled a knife at Ottotark. It bought them a second as the sergeant dodged the projectile. She yanked another arrow from her quiver, but Ottotark recovered before she had it nocked.

  He fired. There was no room to dodge, no time to duck. Agarik leaped in front of her, grunting as the pistol ball slammed into him.

  “No!” Tikaya cried.

  She jumped around him, took the split second to aim, and shot. The arrow spun into Ottotark’s eye.

  She dropped the bow and whirled back to Agarik, catching him as he slumped. His hand gripped his chest, and pain ravaged his face. The cube continued its inexorable advance, but she tried to pull him down the aisle.

  “Leave me.” Blood spilled from his lips. “Help Rias.”

  “It’ll get you,” she choked, refusing to accept the inevitable.

  “Yes,” Agarik rasped. “Give you…time.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw it: that cursed glow intensified. She stumbled away as the beam fired. It burned into Agarik and started its deadly work.

  “Go,” he gasped.

  Tears blurring her vision again, Tikaya grabbed the bow and sped away. She leaped over Bones’s body and kicked Ottotark on the way past. She should have lit that bastard on fire when she had the chance. Agarik’s death was her fault.

  She found the corridor Ottotark had used to circle around behind her and cut over toward the cavern. It would take time for the cube to clear away all three bodies, but she recalled the multiple units in that cavern closet and knew others would be about.

  Tikaya slowed at the cavern entrance and tried to peer out without revealing herself. No shadows remained, though, and the assassin was already looking down at her when she spotted him. He crouched on the ledge, his shirt off and tied about his nose and mouth. His back was to the closed door. None of the symbols had been moved. He dropped his head to focus on the floor at his feet—or something on it. Paper and pencil, she guessed from his movements. He was trying to solve the new Skiltar Square.

  But where was Rias? Smoke still wafted from the noxious globe, but it had thinned, and she would have seen him on the cliff if he remained there. His rucksack lay on the floor where he had left it. Dread crept into her as she continued to search the area without spotting him. If he had fallen, the beams could have incinerated him before he reached the ground.

  Two cubes worked in the cavern, eating away the piles of rubble. They reminded her of the one in the tunnels behind her. As soon as it finished with the bodies—she forced herself not to dwell on Agarik, not now—it would head this way.

  Tikaya eased out of the tunnel and kept her back to the wall. Sicarius kept track of her as he figured. Her hand ached where she gripped the bow. If Sicarius had killed Rias, he was not getting off the cliff. Agile or not, he could not dodge arrows while he climbed down past those lasers. She removed an arrow and nocked it with steady hands. Cold controlled anger made her movements sure, free of fear. Even if he had not killed Rias, he was the Turgonian emperor’s assassin, someone who had tried to murder her president. The world would be better off with him dead.

  She drew the bow. No sense of alarm widened Sicarius’s eyes, but he stood. Balanced on the balls of his feet, arms relaxed, he appeared unconcerned by the weapon pointed at him. Even on that small ledge, he could probably dodge an arrow. But if she bumped one of the numbers, and he could not solve the problem on time, he would either have to climb down, where she could shoot him in the back, or he would be incinerated.

  Yes, then why hadn’t she fired yet?

  Killing Ottotark in self-defense was one thing; shooting someone in cold blood… Could she do it?

  Motion across the cavern saved her from having to answer the question. Rias burst from a tunnel, diving and rolling as a red beam lanced the air over him.

  “Rias!” she shouted.

  He scrambled to his feet and zigzagged toward the butte. He chopped a wave her direction, but lifted his head to shout a stream of numbers at the assassin.

  The solution to the door. Sicarius’s head tilted, and he gazed upward—calculating. Not trusting enough to enter them without checking for himself. And why should he be? Rias had no reason to help, to get the assassin inside with the weapons. What was he doing?

  “Is that…” She thrust her bow toward the cube chasing him.

  Rias dove over a fallen stalactite. A beam struck the rubble, and rock and dust flew. He came up, racing toward the camp this time, and a wild grin lit his face. He pressed a finger to his lips and mouthed something. Distract it?

  Sicarius was punching in the door code. Tikaya cut toward the cube from the side. As soon as she was closer to it than Rias, it rotated toward her. She ran toward a pile of rubble and ducked behind it without any of the grace Rias had managed. Her shoulder clunked against a boulder with a painful jar. She peeped around the edge.

  Rias reached his rucksack and tore open the lid. He dug out the cube, still inert, the lid still off. So the one following him—her now—was an extra.

  She circled the pile to avoid its approach. A beam bit into the rubble, and shards of stone rained upon her.

  Overhead, the door slid open. Rias thumbed something inside his cube. Sicarius entered the chamber. Rias hurled the cube toward the top of the butte.

  The one at ground-level was nearing Tikaya and she had to sprint to the next pile of debris. She glanced upward as she ran, fearing pieces would fly out of the open cube or the beams would incinerate it, but it reached the top unharmed. It caromed off the transparent wall, and Tikaya thought it would bounce away from the butte, but it righted itself. Hovering in the air, the cube approached the door.

  Inside, Sicarius whirled at the noise and dropped into a crouch.

  “Get out!” Rias called.

  He dug a familiar jar out of his rucksack and raced at the cube stalking Tikaya around the rubble pile. She let
it get dangerously close to keep it occupied.

  She risked another glance upward. If the modified cube started destroying rockets while the door was open, they would all be dead in seconds. But it focused on Sicarius first.

  A beam shot out. Tikaya held her breath. Sicarius ducked, and the beam splashed against the wall without hitting a rocket.

  Her own cube almost skewered her when her heel caught a rock, and she ripped her attention back to the closer danger. Rias scrambled over the pile from the side and splattered the air with his concoction. He and Tikaya split and raced away while the cube was deciding where to focus its beam.

  As they met on the other side of the pile, an earsplitting shriek echoed from all around. The weapons chamber door started to shut. Sicarius dove under the cube and rolled through the entrance. The door sealed. His momentum took him to the edge, and Tikaya thought he would fly over the side, but he twisted and caught the overhang.

  Smoke rose behind Tikaya. Their cube was out of action. She leaned forward, willing the one caught inside the chamber to do what they wanted.

  Rias gripped her hand. He had lost the crazy grin and stared at the chamber, as if he could will the cube to work with the intensity of his gaze.

  Then the first beam shot out. Tikaya could not see the target from where they stood, but a green haze filled the air in the weapons chamber. A bone-shaking rumble emanated from the butte—the ventilation system firing up. Smoke whirled and rose, drawn into the ducts at the top.

  Sicarius hung on the cliff, his chin over the edge, staring at the display. A blue gas joined the green, mingling and merging as it too was sucked upward. Tikaya hoped some sort of filter existed, so everything in the mountains at the other end of that vent did not die.

  “It’s working.” Rias smiled and wrapped her in a hug.

  She could not bring herself to return the smile, not with Agarik’s death haunting her thoughts, but she did return the embrace. She smashed her face into his shoulder and hugged him with all her strength. And then released him. She would cry later, when they were safe.

  A pebble clattered down the cliff. Sicarius was climbing down.

  “We better get out of here,” she whispered.

  Rias nodded, grabbed his rucksack, and jogged to the camp. She followed him, but when he started gathering food and gear, she shifted from foot to foot.

  “Do we have time for that?” She jerked her head toward Sicarius. Even with the beams to navigate, his progress going down was faster than it had been climbing up. “He’s going to be irate.”

  “I know,” Rias said, but he continued his preparations, unhurried. Black powder tins and ammo pouches went into his rucksack. “It’s weeks to get across the mountains and back to civilization. We’ll need supplies to survive the trek.”

  “I need to find Parkonis and make sure he can get away from the Turgonians,” she said. “And, Rias? Agarik didn’t make it.”

  His jaw tightened, but he kept himself to a curt nod.

  “He saved my life,” Tikaya said, “so I could come back to help you.”

  Rias grabbed a second rucksack and started filling it for her. She glanced at Sicarius.

  “He’s almost down,” she murmured. “If we want to take him out, this may be our last chance.” That weeks-long trek would be arduous enough without an assassin hounding them. “If he comes after us…after you… We can’t waste the gift Agarik gave us.”

  Rias finished packing. “We won’t.”

  Sicarius jumped the last ten feet, landing lightly. Even in defeat, that same stony mask hid his thoughts, his feelings.

  Rias handed Tikaya her pack and a fresh quiver of arrows for her bow. He picked up a rifle but did not bother to load it.

  “Ready.” He pointed to a tunnel, a tunnel they would have to walk past the assassin to reach.

  Metal rang softly as Sicarius pulled a dagger from his belt and stepped into their path.

  Tikaya grabbed Rias’s elbow when he did not slow. “Are you mad?”

  Rias removed her hand gently and strode toward the tunnel. Tikaya nocked an arrow, but did not fully draw the bow. Rias had to know what he was doing. Didn’t he? Shaking her head, she followed him.

  Sicarius’s grip tightened around the dagger hilt. “You never intended to help. You had the chance to redeem yourself, but you betrayed the emperor again.”

  Rias stopped a few feet from him. “Yes.”

  Sweat dripped down the sides of Sicarius’s dust-streaked face and dampened his pale hair. For the first time, he seemed uncertain, frazzled. Young. “Why?”

  “I couldn’t let him have those weapons. There’s no honor in destroying one’s enemies like that. Nobody should have that kind of power.”

  “That wasn’t for you to decide.”

  “Yes, it was. Sometimes the only person capable of such a decision is someone who stands on the outside, someone who has nothing left to lose, nothing to gain, by the outcome.”

  “Nothing to gain?” Sicarius asked. “You could have had your life back, your lands.” The faintest hint of longing entered his voice. “You could have been a hero again.”

  Tikaya lowered the bow as it dawned on her that Sicarius had yet to point the dagger at Rias. Not here and not at any point since he had shown up.

  “That’s never been a goal of mine,” Rias said. “The definition of a hero changes depending on the needs of the person with the dictionary. And of late I’ve become more aware how much being a hero to the empire means being a war criminal to the rest of the world.” Rias smiled sadly at Tikaya before turning back to Sicarius. “For twenty years, I served Turgonia. I think it’s time now to see if I can serve the world.”

  “I see,” Sicarius said, and Tikaya had a hard time telling if he truly did or not.

  Rias unsheathed a dagger, flipped it in his hand, and held it hilt-first toward Sicarius. It was utterly black, one of the tools they had gathered for working on the cubes. The keen edge would probably never dull.

  Sicarius considered it for a long moment before accepting it. Peace offering, Tikaya guessed.

  “Are you returning with Bocrest and the others?” Rias asked.

  “Yes,” Sicarius said.

  “Parkonis is no threat to the empire. Will you see to it that he escapes when the ship docks in Port Sakrent?”

  Tikaya’s eyes widened, not in surprise that Rias would care enough to make the request, but that he was asking Sicarius for a favor. After they had defeated him.

  “If that is your wish,” Sicarius said, stunning Tikaya even more.

  The kid was going to be in trouble already for not completing his mission, for letting Rias go. Earlier, she had been thinking of shooting him, but now she found herself hoping the emperor had invested too much in his education to dispose of him over a failure.

  “Thank you,” Rias said. “And one last request: will you relay a message to the emperor for me?”

  Sicarius tilted his head.

  “Though I may never see them again, I have family and friends in Turgonia. It is not my intention to make trouble for the empire. But I want him to know that if he bothers them or—” Rias angled toward Tikaya, directing Sicarius’s eyes to her, “—if he sends anyone after her or her family, I will become trouble.”

  Tikaya thought she detected bleakness in the assassin’s usual mask. Yes, all Fleet Admiral Starcrest would have to do to make the emperor’s life unpleasant would be to show up on the Nurian Chief’s threshold, offering to help war against his former nation.

  “I will tell him,” Sicarius said.

  “Thank you,” Rias said again, and he put a hand on Sicarius’s shoulder. “You would have made a good officer.”

  “Not the road fate paved for me,” Sicarius said, but something in the soft exhale that followed his words made Tikaya wonder if he wished things were different.

  EPILOGUE

  As the light faded from the mountains, Rias placed the last block of snow on the top of the igloo. There was no wood
to make a fire, though a kerosene lantern provided a pool of light.

  He stepped back, brushed off his gloves, and quirked an eyebrow. “What do you think?”

  It had taken two days to find a “back door” out of the tunnels, and it had brought them out above the tree line with only a couple hours of daylight remaining. Icy wind gusted along the ridge, and the first stars glittered in the clear sky. The night would be long and cold, very cold. Though she had helped build it, Tikaya eyed the igloo dubiously.

  “You’re sure we won’t freeze to death?” she asked.

  They had enough gear, Rias assured her, to make it out of the mountains and to the nearest town. Still, the lack of firewood and the plummeting temperature made her nervous for this first night.

  Rias flattened his hand on his chest. “Are you questioning my engineering skills?”

  “No, I’m sure it’s structurally stable. I’m questioning the wisdom of sleeping inside a box of snow.”

  He chuckled, ambled over, and kissed her on the forehead. “Snow is insulating, my dear. Once our body heat warms up the igloo, you’ll be able to sleep naked if you want.”

  “Sleep naked, huh?”

  His eyes twinkled. “The sleeping part is optional.”

  A distant boom echoed through the mountains. The marines had apparently found a different way out and were following their orders to seal the tunnels. She hoped they were treating Parkonis well. Leaving him felt like a betrayal, but the reality was he would probably make it home sooner and less eventfully than she. And though Sicarius ranked at the top of her list of People She Never Wanted to Meet Again, Rias trusted him to keep his word, and she trusted Rias.

  She wished she had been able to keep her word to Agarik. Leaving him there to be incinerated by that machine… Another betrayal. She wondered what the marines would tell his family. If he even had family. It shamed her that a man had given his life to save hers and she knew so little about him.

  Rias shoved their weapons and gear through the igloo’s low entrance, then belly-crawled after. Tikaya grabbed the lantern and managed to get snow down her pants following him. She hissed in frustration as she dug it out in the tiny confines. She could not wait to walk again on a tropical beach.