Scars of the Sundering
Book 3
Salvation
Hans Cummings
Chapter 1
Kale squinted from within the Citadel of Fire and Stone’s entrance and peered toward the giants’ village across the lake. The giants went about their business, seemingly ignorant of what transpired within. He supposed it was possible they were neither aware towering skeletal warriors attended their king, nor the draks, with the aid of their human friend, killed the king, destroyed the skeletons, and discovered the dead dragon.
He folded his wings and swam to the dock where his sister, his mate, and the human, Katka, along with the dragon egg they recovered from the lair, waited for his report. It was the lone valuable object that remained. Kale suspected whatever caused the ceiling to crush the dragon’s head was also responsible for the loss of the rest of the treasure. No legends told of dragons who took vows of poverty. If anything, they were all covetous.
“So, what’s going on out there?” His sister and his mate squatted, reaching to help him onto the dock.
“Nothing. It’s like they have no idea what happened.”
Katka cradled her broken arm. “Maybe they don’t. Rock is pretty good at blocking sound.”
Delilah shook her head. “Obviously, you’ve never lived underground. Sound travels through rock.”
“Through to the village and across the lake?"
Kale crouched by the dragon egg and ran his hands over its surface. Even to him, it felt warm when he touched it, offering him reassurance that the fetal dragon within was still alive. He tried to ignore the discussion between his sister and the human girl about the auditory transmission properties of rocks.
“So? What are we going to do? If they find out we killed their king, they’ll stomp us like bugs.” Kali stooped behind Kale, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head on his back between his wings. He allowed himself to relish the feeling of his mate’s touch before responding.
“We could try sneaking out at night.” He glanced at the sky. It would be dark soon. If they took care crossing the lake after most of the giants were asleep and kept close to the village’s perimeter, he believed they could pass unnoticed.
“That might work. I know an enchantment that will help us move more quietly.” Katka shifted her weight from one foot to the other and gazed over the lake. “I don’t fancy being smashed by angry giants. I’d hoped to make apprentice this year.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll get out of this.” Delilah touched Katka’s elbow and smiled. “Kale and I got through dozens of oroq invasions back home. Sneaking past a few giants will be easy.”
Delilah’s exaggerations aside, Kale agreed with his sister. Katka was the largest of them, and even she was small for a human. They were all diminutive compared to the villagers. Kale ushered them into the safety of the citadel. No point risking detection.
They spent the afternoon discussing strategies based on half-remembered details of the village. The plan was to swim along the cliff until they reached the near shore and then work their way through the forest until they met the road. Kale decided to explore nearby chambers, hoping to find a passage leading to an upper level. Gliding from the citadel across the lake carrying the egg would be easier than holding it while swimming. The citadel was built down and into the mountain, not up, and his search revealed only the remains of a campsite the previous visitors abandoned.
“The only way out looks to be across the lake; back the way we came.” Kale held up a broken stick. “I found this though. It looks like a wand.”
Delilah took the stick from him. A crooked and gnarled piece of weathered wood, it bore faded runes carved upon its length; telltale signs of arcane use. “I’ll bet this belonged to Manless. It probably broke in the fight against Pyraclannaseous, and he ditched it here.”
She tucked it into one of her pouches; more evidence to show the court. After the veil of night descended and the giants settled into their evening slumber, the three draks and the human slipped into the water. The drak twins supported the egg as they swam, keeping it nestled between them in Kale’s cloak. Kali pulled Katka with her in the water, helping the young human woman to keep up with the group. The utter lack of sound as they crossed unnerved Kale, but he was glad for Katka’s enchantment. He observed guards pacing, illuminated by the dim glow of flickering torches, but all seemed unaware of their crossing.
Songs of night birds serenaded the four as they climbed onto shore. Once they checked their gear, they crept from shadow to shadow, as crickets and buzzing insects droned in accompaniment. The giants’ dwellings extended along the line where the beach’s soft sand transitioned into firm ground-covering foliage at the edge of the old forest. Their homes dotted the valley lakeshore like stone-and-wood monuments to the god of hearth and home.
Katka’s enchantment allowed them to pass beyond the great beasts the giants kept as steeds and slip unnoticed into the cover of the forest. Before the trees obscured his view, Kale noted the location of the road leading out of the village and carefully angled their course to intercept it.
By the time the King and Queen had risen high in the sky, barely visible through the thick canopy of the forest, Kale found the road. The light from the giants’ fires, now mere dots, flickered on the horizon. Even though the egg was lighter than it appeared, his arms and back ached from carrying it, and from her grumbles, he surmised Delilah’s patience with his groaning grew short.
Katka hummed to herself as they hiked, her enchantment of silence no longer in effect. Kali recognized the tune as a popular ditty sung by minstrels in taverns, and she joined in. Within minutes, they were singing the bawdy lyrics.
“Shh!” Delilah smacked Katka’s uninjured shoulder with her free hand. “They’ll hear you!”
“We must be a league away, maybe two.” Kali glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the village. “No one there is hearing us.”
A trumpeting roar from ahead sent them scrambling for the underbrush. Lights flared at the far end of the path, illuminating a row of enormous, grey-skinned beasts. Giant warriors sat atop them, each brandishing a spear.
“You have been seen. Hiding is pointless,” one of the giants called out as he dismounted, sliding to the ground with a thud. He planted the butt of his spear in the center of the road and stood spanning its width with his legs.
“You steal away in the cover of darkness like thieves. Face us. Should death be your fate, I promise your honesty and bravery will be rewarded with a swift end.”
Delilah bumped into her brother. “That’s no comfort.”
Kale suppressed a shiver at the thought of what the giants would do to them. How did they beat us here? How did they even know we left?
The giant called to them again. Kale’s sister tried to pull him deeper into the underbrush, but he shook his head and pushed her away.
“I have an idea, Deli.”
Kale gambled the sigil on his chest would protect him. He stepped into the road, ignoring the gasps and protests from his friends. If they worshipped her, I might have a chance…
He carried the egg carefully, spreading his wings for additional balance. One of the warriors behind the speaking giant threw his spear into the ground before Kale, blocking his path. The head of the spear was as big as the drak’s own head.
“Pyraclannaseous is dead, killed by an earthquake.” Kale heard his sister hissing and swearing from within the bushes.
The remaining giants brandished their spears. The one on foot raised his hand to stay their ire. “You are responsible for this? And the theft of her child? Why?”
Kale set down the egg and motioned
for Delilah, Kali, and Katka to stay put. “She had been dead for some time when we arrived. There was a great rift in her cavern, terrible heat, and the stink of death.”
One of the mounted warriors whispered to the giant alongside him. Kale couldn’t understand what he said. The lead giant lowered his hand and nodded.
“I’m taking the egg to her brother, Terrakaptis. He’ll know what to do. I am draevyehfehdin. It is his will.” Even as he said it, the words sounded silly to Kale’s ears. The giant seemed to take them seriously, however.
The warrior picked up his spear and used the butt of it to slide Kale’s bandoleer away from the marking on his chest. Delilah rushed out, staff glowing, but stopped at a quick head shake from Kale. Next, Katka emerged from the underbrush. Kali followed her, weapon ready.
“When your archmage last visited, he entered the Citadel of Fire and Stone.” The giant stepped away from Kale. “The ground shook with rage as he fled. He took to the sky on a column of twisting air. After, our king demanded the bones of our dead and forbade us from entering the citadel. He told us we had displeased him and were to remain in the valley, never to enter the citadel again.”
The mounted warriors shook their spears and shouted, pointing at the human and three draks. Kale guessed their intentions. The lone warrior who stood spun on them and slammed the butt of his spear into the ground, shouting a response that quieted the rest.
He returned his attention to Kale. “They say we should kill you. We should roast you and break our fast when the dawn comes. But… I cannot deny the truth I hear in your words.”
“If we don’t get back to Muncifer soon, the archmage will send more wizards looking for us.” Delilah stepped forward, placing a clawed hand on the egg. Kale placed his hand on her shoulder, pursing his lips and shaking his head as he pushed her toward Kali and Katka.
The giant appeared unmoved, his face like a stone. “Annah Brighteyes will decide your fate. You will return to the village with us”—he and the mounted warriors raised their spears—“or you will die here.”
***
Pancras staggered across the main deck of the Maiden of the High Seas as a wave crashed into her side, sending a spray of salt water across the deck and soaking his robes. He cursed as he wiped the water from his eyes. Every time he ventured topside, he returned as wet as if he had stood in a downpour.
Sailors manning the rigging paused in their tasks to laugh at the minotaur stumbling across the deck toward the railing. Pancras’s sides ached as he once again returned his morning meal to the sea. Since coming aboard the ship, he’d managed to keep down only about a third of his sustenance. A flash of black and red in the periphery of his vision caught his attention.
The fiendling, Qaliah, skipped over to his side. She grabbed his arm as a heave of the deck threw him forward, driving the rail into his gut. He retched again.
“Never figured you for such a weak-stomached landlubber, Pancras. I figured you getting dead would’ve cured you of such ills.”
The minotaur wished returning from death brought with it such benefits. As far as he could tell, the only benefit he received from his resurrections was literally not being dead. He spat into the sea, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.
“Where’s Blondie?” Qaliah scanned the deck, eyes searching for their other companion, Gisella. She grinned, waving to one of the sailors who stared at her.
“She doesn’t like you calling her that.” Pancras swallowed, wishing his throat burned less from the bile he struggled to keep at bay.
“She’s not around, so she doesn’t get a say. Below decks? We’re supposed to be sparring.” Qaliah jerked her sword from its sheath and danced around Pancras, poking him in the rump with the tip. “She’s going to teach me to fight, you know.”
“Start by killing me.” Pancras leaned against the rail and closed his eyes. “Maybe I’ll return to life when we’ve reached Vlorey.”
“Ha! Maybe you’d come back all half-rotted this time, craving flesh and blood.” The fiendling sheathed her sword and spun before taking Pancras’s arm. She laid her head on his chest and lowered her voice. “Sailors don’t like such talk, so you probably shouldn’t mention any of that too often. We’ve a long way to go, yet.”
“You’re doing it wrong, Minotaur.” The voice of Eingvar Salt-Wind, captain of the Maiden, was that of a man who chewed on stones for supper and gargled with acid.
“What? Standing?” Pancras shut his eyes again and concentrated on not retching.
“You’ll never get your sea legs with your eyes closed. Gotta find a fixed point far away and focus on that.” The Watchman slapped Pancras on the side. Despite his size, the human stood more than a head shorter than the minotaur. Pancras cracked an eye and regarded the man. His blond hair whipped around his head in the fierce coastal wind.
“There!” The captain pointed to a spot on the coast. “That rock formation. Focus on something like that while you’re topside, and move with the ship.”
“He’s a minotaur, Captain.” Qaliah extracted herself from Pancras’s arm. “Might as well be a dwarf when it comes to ships and water.”
“Nonsense.” Captain Eingvar put his hands on his hips and stared across the ocean at the coast. “Some of the best mariners I’ve known were minotaurs. Dwarves’ll sink, it’s true, but minotaurs can sail with the best of them. You just need practice, Bonelord.”
The captain left Qaliah and Pancras alone. The minotaur’s insides churned with each heave of the deck. Staring across the sea at the rock formation on the coast brought him no relief, but he took solace in the fact that he tended to vomit less on an empty stomach.
***
“Are you crazy?” Delilah tugged at her brother’s cloak and hissed. “This is exactly what we’re trying to avoid.” The draks and Katka followed behind the lead warrior’s mount as the giants marched them back to their village.
“We can’t fight them all, Deli.”
The drak sorceress disagreed but kept her thoughts to herself now that they were within earshot of the giants. As much as she disliked the idea of seeing her master, the archmage, again, she disliked the idea of becoming food for giants even less. She doubted she could manage the same death-cheating stunt Pancras did in Almeria.
She heard a sniffle behind her and lagged behind for Katka to catch up. The human wiped her eyes when she noticed Delilah staring at her. “Sorry. I was fine until I started thinking of my parents. It’s one thing to be away from them in the city, but it’s different when you’re being marched to the dinner table.”
“Stop it!” Kali pushed her way between Delilah and Katka. “Kale knows what he’s doing.”
Delilah snorted. She cannot possibly be talking about my brother. The lights of the village grew more intense as they approached. Even from a distance, the drak ascertained the village was now roused. She worried about what the giants would do to them, and she was curious to learn how they not only managed to discover their escape, but also how they moved ahead of them so swiftly and without detection.
“I hope so. If we die here, my parents will never know what happened to me.” Katka kicked a rock and sighed. “The archmage will never tell them the truth.”
“No doubt about that.” Delilah took Katka’s arm. “We’ll figure this out. I promise.”
She wished she felt as confident as she tried to sound. Kale might be right about fighting them, but I would’ve taken a lot of them with me.
It was still dark when they reached the village. It appeared that every man, woman, and child turned out for the return of the draks and Katka. All except the smallest children wielded weapons and glared at the four with murderous eyes.
Katka squeezed Delilah’s arm as the drak sorceress scanned the crowd. Save for the babies too small to stand, their foes appeared to be deadly opponents. Even the children stood as tall as fully grown humans.
“We should have run for it, Kale.”
The warriors slid off their mounts, forming a half-circ
le behind the four companions as their leader called for the village shaman, muffling Delilah’s rebuke. A tall, lithe woman stepped forward, holding a baby on her hip. She was clad in crude armor composed of leather, furs, and bark. Sandy hair peeked out beneath a fur-and-feather headdress. Animal bones dangled from her ears and from a braided rope around her neck. Steel-grey eyes regarded each of the four diminutive companions in turn.
The lead warrior bowed before the shaman. He spoke to her in short, rapid sentences, casting backward glances at the four. Delilah’s grasp of the giants’ language was incomplete, and she understood only the woman’s name: Annah Brighteyes.
When the shaman finally spoke, it took a moment for Delilah to hear past her thick accent. “… vengeance. We must take care to direct our anger at those who have wronged us, and I am not convinced these small ones are they.”
She handed her baby to one of the males, taking care to coo at the child and kiss its head before fully relinquishing it. She then sat on the ground in front of the human and three draks, although she still towered over them.
“I recognize the mark of the Firstborne upon you.” She bowed her head to Kale. “As we are sworn to the children of Rannos Dragonsire, no harm shall be brought upon you.” Annah Brighteyes turned her gaze on Delilah, and then to Kali and Katka in turn. “The rest of you will speak in your defense.”
The shaman raised her arms toward the sky and threw back her head. “Kanfod kelwydda!” A blue halo of smoky light encircled her and streamed into her steel-grey eyes. When her gaze again met theirs, her eyes glowed the color of blooming periwinkles.
“Striped one, kin of the draevyehfehdin, speak to me your tale of woe.”
The drak sorceress felt no compulsion to speak truthfully, as was the case during her interrogation at the hands of the archduke. Ignorant of the magic the shaman used, Delilah decided honesty was the safest bet.
“The archduke wants peace. The archmage wants the dragon. I was sent by both to work against the other.” She licked her lips and swallowed, waiting for the shaman’s reaction. She heard Kali shuffle behind her, moving to stand beside her mate.
Salvation (Scars of the Sundering Book 3) Page 1
