Kara put her hands behind her back to undo her gown. “You sound fascinating, my lord. I like brave men.”
He grimaced. “Leave your clothes on.”
She caught hold of the gown before it slid off. “Sorry, I thought...”
“I have things I must tell you. I’m not here to pleasure myself on you.”
Kara did up her gown, then reached for him. “That’s fine. Some men are happy to pay to talk to a woman.”
He gave her a disapproving look and gently pushed her back. “I’m not one of those men.”
“I’m a courtesan, my lord. You gave me a silver. That’s more than any man has given me.” She gave him another one of her smiles. “I’ll repay you for your generosity however you like, as long as you don’t hurt me.”
She’d slept with men far uglier, older and unkind than Wrynric and they’d not given her any silvers. She would do anything he asked in the hopes he’d give her another.
“What you are is not important to me. I’m here because I need to show you something that belongs to you.”
She lost the smile as he pulled something from his pocket and held up a strange white item attached to a thick silver chain. The item looked like a playing card, but thicker and with writing on it. At its center was a square indent that appeared to be made of copper and on one end, a red bulb twice the size of a man’s thumbnail that seemed to be as dead as the sacred light up the street.
“What is it, my lord?”
“It’s an ancient artifact discovered in a ruin far from here.”
“I’ve never seen it before, so how can it belong to me?”
What was he on about? Was it some sort of test? This had never happened before. Wrynric was strange, and it was hard to know what to make of him.
“It does belong to you, even if you don’t know it yet.” He stared into the candle’s flame. “This was never meant to happen. You’re a half-blood and his one mistake.”
Kara frowned. “What are you talking about, my lord?”
He turned back to her, his eyes wet with tears. “Stop calling me lord. My name is Wrynric. I came from Sunholm, a hidden town deep in the Nether.”
She backed away a step. “You come from the Great Dark beyond the sacred lights?”
“Yes, but don’t hold it against me, girl. Not everyone who dwells out there is a heretic or criminal.”
“I saw someone who lived beyond the sacred lights once. He was pale and shrunken and vile looking.”
“Indeed, there are people who live in the Nether that look as you describe—we call them husks. It seems the sacred lights of Ibilirith do more than light your path; they are also vital to one’s health. My people regularly came to Stelemia to trade, so we escaped the worst of the ravages of living too long in the dark.”
She continued to keep her distance, interested in what he had to say but not wanting to get too close to someone who lived beyond the sacred lights. Everything she’d heard about people who lived in the Great Dark had portrayed them as sub-human curs.
Yet Wrynric did not seem so bad. Strange, but not evil.
He leaned forward in his chair. “Now stay silent girl, for there’s much I need to tell you and it will be hard for you to understand.”
Not knowing what else to do, she sat on the bed and let him tell his story. After all, if she listened to it, he might give her more coin.
“The story is about your father and the Metal Man behind the door. I told you I heard him and I was not making jest.” Wrynric closed his eyes and spoke in a low, husky voice. “Your father’s name was Arden. He was a great man and was the one who sent me here.”
“My mother never told me who my father was. And I never wanted to know, for he broke her heart when he told her he wouldn’t take us with him. Are you sure this man Arden is my father?”
Wrynric looked uncomfortable. “I’m sure. I met your mother, Kristia, several times over the years. She was a great woman.”
Kara narrowed her eyes. “I don’t recall seeing you before. How come my madam doesn’t know you?”
“It’s been several years since I’ve been here and I never introduced myself to her. The last time I visited was when Arden came to say... goodbye to your mother. I was sorry to hear Kristia passed away soon after we left.”
Kara nodded, feeling old anger billowing up. She pictured her mother lying on her deathbed, bathed in sweat while Kara—her only child—prayed over her. “I didn’t know he came to see her. Many believe Mother’s broken heart was what killed her.”
Wrynric winced. “I’m sorry Arden had to do what he did. But know, he had no choice.”
“No choice?” Kara raised her voice. “Mother loved him and he abandoned her.”
“And Arden loved her too, with all his heart, but as I said—” Wrynric stopped and swallowed, his face a mask of pain. “It doesn’t matter now. We can talk of this later. I’m sorry I brought it up.”
“It’s alright,” Kara said after taking a moment to suppress the bitterness that threatened to spill over. “Just tell me this is going somewhere.”
He let out a relieved breath. “It is. Now listen. You also had a sister called Liana, but I don’t have the time to discuss her now.” He licked his lips. “The first thing you should know is that Arden and Liana were special and shared something called visiondreams. In these dreams, they caught glimpses of the future.”
“Were they fortune-tellers, like at the Great Market?”
He smiled faintly. “No, they weren’t fortune-tellers. In one of their dreams they saw the artifact on the silver chain. After months of the same vision, they decided to go in search of it.
“I accompanied them on a journey deep into the Nether, following the path revealed to them in their visiondreams. After many days of travel through dangerous, unexplored caves we arrived at an underground city, long abandoned and deathly silent.”
Men had told Kara crazy things before—normally when they were drunk—but this tale of Wrynric’s was quickly becoming the most unhinged thing she’d ever heard.
“We walked the concrete passages of the Dead City for a few days and chanced upon a half-open, scorched metal door. We climbed under it and found ourselves in an ancient storage room. Buried under a collapsed part of the wall was the crushed remnant of what appeared to be metallic human bones. Little was left except a leg bone, part of a skull and a skeletal hand.”
“But you said you heard the Metal Man. How could he be dead?”
“I don’t know how to explain the bones. Other than the voice we heard, we saw no sign of anyone or anything in the Dead City. At any rate, gripped in the skeletal hand was the artifact I hold before you. Its location was near enough to where your father and sister had seen it in their visiondreams.”
How could an ancient relic found in some distant part of the world have any connection to Kara? She wound the end of her hair around her fingers. “So, what’s this got to do with me?”
He ignored her and continued, “We were about to head home to study the artifact when we heard something. We followed the sound and arrived at a heavily corroded metal door. A voice was coming from the other side but we couldn’t understand what it was saying.”
She let go of her hair. “Was it the Metal Man?”
“Yes, though we didn’t know it at the time. There seemed to be no way to open the door, so we hammered on it with a stone and the voice stopped talking. I called out and asked who he was and what he was doing there, but he didn’t answer me. Eventually, we gave up trying to communicate with him and returned home to Sunholm.”
Wrynric held up the artifact. “When we got there, we studied this thing in the belief that one of us would be able to activate it like Arden and Liana had seen in their visions. But no matter what we did, none of us got it to work.” He put the artifact down on the table. “We were frustrated and close to giving up when Arden had another dream.” He lowered his voice. “This time, it was of you.”
“Me?”
&nbs
p; Wrynric nodded solemnly. “This won’t be easy for you to understand. Your father was a scion. You are a scion.”
“What’s a scion?”
“All you need to know right now is the scions were the people I lived with in Sunholm who carried inside them an ancient legacy. You’re a half-blood, for Arden was a scion but your mother was not.”
“Alright, but how—”
“Hush, let me explain where you come in. In this new dream, Arden saw you with the artifact around your neck. It was no longer as it is now, for the bulb on it was lit.”
Wrynric paused, as if to gather himself for the final plunge into madness. It was madness. Almost none of what he said made sense.
“Your father said dark times are coming. He said you will be forced to undertake a dangerous journey into the Nether and that you will travel to the Dead City where we discovered the artifact. There, you will walk to the door we heard the voice coming from and open it.”
How could he say such insane things with a straight face? She’d never left the capital before, and there was no way she’d ever go into the Great Dark. She leaned forward. “I’m hanging off your every word. Did my father see what was inside?”
“The Metal Man.”
“Really?” Kara dug her nails into her leg, trying to stop herself from laughing.
Wrynric frowned but continued. “He saw you enlist the Metal Man’s help and later stand at the head of a great host and lead them against an ancient enemy in the Final Battle to end humanity’s exile here in Stelemia.”
“Our exile? Exile from what?”
He sighed. “We didn’t always live underground. I’m a member of a group called the Covenant of the Lost Sun, and we believe humans came from a world watched over by our namesake—the Sun.”
That statement finally made Kara let loose her laughter. When she could speak, she said, “That was a great story my lord, one of the best I’ve ever heard. Thank you for the silver coin; I hope I’ve pleased you. I’m going to speak to my madam now, so you better leave.”
She tried to stand but he grabbed her and put a hand over her mouth. “I realize I must appear a crazy old fool, but your father saw the future. His visiondreams were real.” Wrynric made her face him. “The ancient enemy is coming and time is running out. I’m here to escort you to our Safehold in the Nether. The home of the scions, Sunholm, is gone, but at Safehold we’ll find a Librarian named Erinie who will help us get to the Dead City so you can speak to the Metal Man.”
Kara mumbled indignantly into his hand but he ignored her protest. “When we’re safely on the road, I’ll tell you everything. When I let you go, gather clothes, food and find a weapon, for we must leave as soon as possible.”
A scream came from somewhere in the tavern. Wrynric swung to face the door, pulling his hand away from her mouth. "Who was that?"
Kara used the opportunity to make a run for it, but he shoved her back on the bed. “You foolish girl,” he hissed. “There are people out there that would kill you for what you are. They attacked Sunholm and butchered your kindred and they may have followed me here.”
“Let me go, please.”
Someone let out a long, drawn-out wail that was cut off by the sound of breaking furniture. Wrynric grabbed the artifact from the table. “Put it around your neck and climb out the window. Head to the Shrine of Lydan in the city of Deep Cave and I or one of my brethren will find you there. Tell no one who you are and make sure you keep the artifact hidden.”
Kara’s heart pounded. “Let me go. I don’t want your stupid artifact—”
“Silence, girl. I know who is out there and he means to kill you. I’ll hold him off as long as I can. Now take the artifact and head to Deep Cave.”
She dug her nails into his arm, a pointless gesture as it was covered in mail armor. “I’m not going to Deep Cave.”
Before Kara could react, Wrynric put the artifact around her neck. As it fell between her breasts, the red bulb flickered to life. Then the world spun and she fell on the bed, unable to move.
Wrynric came to stand over her, his sword drawn. “Arden was right. You’ve woken the artifact.”
The strange paralysis began to ease. “What... What have you done to me?”
“I’m sorry, half-blood. I had to do it.”
She held the artifact up and studied it. The copper square looked like the insides of the machines the Order tended, but the rest, covered in writing, looked alien to her. A wave of nausea made her drop it and wretch on the bed. When the nausea passed, she ripped the artifact from her neck, but it only made the nausea return tenfold.
“It can’t be removed girl.” He forced it back around her neck, ending the nausea. “It’s bound to you now, and if you try to remove it, you will kill us all.”
“No... I don’t want it.” What am I going to do?
“Your father said you must leave it around your neck for his vision to come to pass. You are the one who’ll return us from exile, and save us from the Ancient Enemy.”
She caught her breath as boots thumped down the hallway toward the door.
There was a scuffle outside and Berda cried out in pain. Wrynric positioned himself between Kara and the door. “Open the window, half-blood, climb out and run as fast as you can. Keep low for a few days, then catch one of the trader caravans to Deep Cave.”
Kara’s blood went cold as the footsteps stopped outside her door. Wrynric shoved her toward the window. “Get going, girl. Now.”
The door burst in and a man garbed head-to-toe in black leather armor stepped into the room. He wore a black mask depicting an ugly human face, his cold, dark eyes visible through its narrow eye-slits. He held a short sword in each hand, both dripping blood. The man looked at Wrynric, but then his gaze fell on Kara and the glowing artifact hanging between her breasts.
Kara’s heart skipped a beat as the man’s malevolent gaze lingered on her. When his eyes switched back to Wrynric, he raised his swords. “You gave her the item, you fool,” he said in a soft, almost mournful voice. “You should have died with the rest of your people back at Sunholm.”
“Leave her be, Dark Brother. Your fight is with me.”
“No, my fight is with her. I cut down her brethren in Sunholm for that device. She cannot be allowed to fulfill the prophecy.” He gestured at Kara with a sword. “If I had known of her existence sooner, she would have died long ago. Her death will be for the good of us all.”
Suddenly he lunged for Wrynric, and the old man barely managed to parry the blow. Kara screamed as the two men fought one another. If their fight carried them away from the door, she could run past them and flee the room.
As she waited for the chance to escape, her eyes fell on Berda, who lay on the floor in a pool of blood outside the door. Further along the hallway was another body draped in a brightly colored dress. Nyla.
Oh no, no...
“Get out the window, girl,” Wrynric yelled as he parried a thrust. “I’ll hold him off to give you time to escape. Go to where I said I would meet you and wait.”
She stared at him, her breath coming fast. Mensig. Where was he? “Help me, Mensig. I need help.”
Wrynric dodged a savage downward blow of the black-clad man’s swords. “He’s dead, girl. Get out of here. I can’t hold him off much longer.”
Blood ran down Wrynric's face and he looked like he was already tiring from the fight. His longsword was too big to use in such cramped quarters and Kara didn’t have to be an expert fighter to know the old man was doomed. Sparks flew as the swords rang together.
She had to escape before he was killed.
Kara pulled the window open and took one last look at Wrynric, then climbed outside and dropped to the stone street one story down. It was lit by sacred lights, but shadows were everywhere and anything could be hiding in them. The clang of weapons rang in her ears as she moved away from the Golden Keg.
Her home.
Some distance away, she paused and looked back. Fire had engulfed the
lower floor of the building, and smoke rose high in the air. Tears in her eyes, Kara bid her friends a silent farewell, then turned and ran.
Chapter 2
AEMON
The coin rolled across the desk and onto the floor before Aemon could scoop it up. He let out an irritated sigh and reached down to pick it up. He had been counting coins for the Royal Bank of Stelemia for hours and his eyes burned with fatigue.
“Two thousand three hundred and fifty-four,” he said under his breath, writing the number down on a slip of parchment. He looked at the pile he had counted and the pile yet to be counted. So many left. So many. Junior clerks always got the most boring, soul-crushing tasks and coin counting was among the worst of them.
He was tempted to go drown himself in Crystal Lake.
Aemon turned and found the banker at the desk next to his asleep. “Morgon, wake up. You know what will happen if Rubin catches you napping again.”
Morgon raised his face from its pillow of parchment and coins, still looking half asleep—but he always looked half asleep. Their hours were long and tedious and mostly spent in this small office counting silvers and coppers and filling out paperwork. Though Morgon was twenty-one like Aemon, he was already going bald.
“What time is it?” Morgon asked.
Aemon glanced at the mechanical clock on the wall above the fireplace and was surprised to see how late it was. “It is twenty-third hour.”
Morgon groaned and went back to counting.
Around first hour, Aemon stopped what he was doing. “Hey, do you hear that? It sounds like bells.”
Morgon looked up, his eyes only half open. “Go see what it is. You are ahead of me, so you can spare a moment.”
Aemon went to the window and looked out over the city of Stelemia. At first his eyes were drawn to the monolithic spire at the center of the city. His family was up there somewhere, in the noble quarters near the Halls of the Priest King. Did they still think of him—their fourth and youngest son they had sent to languish at the bank?
The Lost Sun Series Box Set 1: Books 1 and 2 (Lost Sun Box Set) Page 3
