The Lost Sun Series Box Set 1: Books 1 and 2 (Lost Sun Box Set)

by Riley Morrison

  Kara’s insides twisted themselves into knots at the very idea of going back.

  Her guts made the decision for her. Speaking to an Inquisitor was out of the question. If she showed them what she carried, they might condemn her as a heretic. Better to go to Deep Cave, wait for Wrynric and demand answers from him.

  She noticed the driver and some of the other men in the caravan watching her. When her eyes fell on them, they quickly looked away. Kara touched the artifact and cursed Malaris for bringing attention to her when she had been doing her best to avoid it. Now everyone would watch her to make sure she didn’t show signs of being a heretic.

  Once out of the village, they drove along the highway until twenty-third hour, pushing everyone to the edge of their endurance. Kara didn’t blame the traders for wanting to travel as far as they could before stopping. The further away they were from Malaris, the safer they would feel. The caravan made camp beside the last watchtower, which overlooked the edge of the cavern and the entrance to the Limestone Caves.

  The next leg of their journey.

  Kara hopped off the wagon and noticed some of the men staring at her again. Turning away, she said a silent prayer they would leave her alone. Mensig had protected her from harm, but now he was dead—along with everyone else she’d ever loved. She had to find a way to protect herself and get to Deep Cave; otherwise, their deaths would be for nothing.

  But she was tired and afraid. How could she go on when everyone seemed to be out to get her? The only allies she had were the two bankers, and what good would they be if the black-clad murderer found her?

  After dinner, Aemon motioned her over as he and Morgon sat against the side of the wagon. “You can sleep next to us if you like.”

  Morgon looked up at her with a toothy grin. Clearly, he wanted her to sleep beside him. She forced herself to smile so they wouldn’t see her reluctance.

  What should she do? She’d already decided Veladan was not an option, and enlisting the help of one of the other men in camp would be difficult now that Malaris had singled her out.

  The best bet would be to stay with the two bankers and sleep lightly. Both were too innocent to try anything on her. That almost made her chuckle. Who knew, she might be stronger than them anyway. They both looked pretty weak—not like the sort she normally dealt with. At any rate, she had her knife and was prepared to use it.

  When she sat between the two bankers, they started to fidget. She rolled her eyes. “Look, I’m not going to bite you, all right?” Their faces went bright red and Aemon mumbled something about being nervous around women. “Don’t be afraid of me. I’m a person, just like you.”

  Saying that seemed to make things worse, because both bankers went as rigid as stone. She burst out laughing. Oh, these poor fools. The only women they’ve probably known are their own mothers!

  With men as innocent as these, she could likely make them do anything she wanted, had she the mind for it. Lucky for them, she had no interest in using them like that.

  Eventually the two bankers joined in her laughter, but all three closed their mouths as Veladan approached. “What are you three laughing at, eh?”

  “Nothing, sir,” Aemon replied.

  Veladan glared at Kara. “So, girl, do you plan on spending the night with these two quill-pushing guppies, or do you fancy being with a real man?”

  She ran her tongue over her teeth, carefully considering how to respond. If she insulted Veladan, he may not come to her aid when needed. “I’m comfortable where I am, my lord. I mean sir. I wouldn’t want to keep you up all night. You have to protect us from the dark, so you need to stay at your best.”

  He snorted, then spat at her feet. “I’m always at me best. Now look, you need protection. These two weaklings aren’t going to be able to stop one of the scum around here coming to pleasure himself on you throughout the night. None of them will mess with me, though.” He reached down. “So come with me, and I’ll make sure no one lays a hand on you.”

  Aemon leapt to his feet. “I will protect her. If anyone tries to hurt her—they will have to get through me first.”

  Kara grimaced and waited for Veladan to explode. Morgon gulped loudly.

  Veladan picked at a wart on his nose and shrugged. “Suit yourselves, but don’t come crying to me if trouble finds you during the night. I’s paid to guard the gold—not you three.” He spun around and walked away, leaving them to stare after him.

  Might the warrior be the one paying her a visit throughout the night? Kara touched the hilt of the knife hidden in her cloak.

  If he did, she had to be ready.

  Kara and the two bankers didn’t speak for some time after Veladan left, nor could they sleep. Kara’s thoughts turned to the road ahead. She didn’t know much of what lay between the capital and Deep Cave.

  “Do either of you know anything about the next step of our journey?”

  “I do not know much,” Morgon said. “I know it is dangerous, though. Somewhere in there—” He gestured toward the crevice marking the entrance to the Limestone Caves. “Is where the caravans are going missing. They enter and never come out.”

  Aemon knew a little more. “I’ve never been here in person but I know that the entrance to the Limestone Caves begins as a wide crevice and later narrows so only one wagon at a time can squeeze through. The caves are a labyrinth filled with bottomless shafts, unexplored chambers and countless tunnels, many of which lead into the Great Dark.”

  He picked at a bit of dirt on his cloak, seemingly delighted with himself that he knew so much.

  Kara asked, “So I imagine it’s easy to get lost in there?”

  “Not if you stick to the road. Historians claim that forgotten stonemasons in ages past leveled much of the limestone of the main thoroughfare so travelers would know if they were on the right path.”

  “How many ways through the caves are there?”

  Aemon shrugged. “Only one is known, though few dare venture far from the highway because it is easy to become lost. Some people tried to map the caves a few years back. They left the highway to explore the side passages—but were never seen again.”

  “Thanks for making me even more afraid of going in there,” Morgon groaned. “How long will it take us to get through?”

  “Around four days,” Aemon replied. “The distance through the caves is not great, but our pace will be slow because of the wagons and the limitations of torchlight.” He pointed to one of the other wagons. “Under that canvas are dozens of torches. If they follow trader protocol, each man will be given two of them—one to light, the other as a spare.”

  This was going to be worse than Kara had anticipated. It never occurred to her there’d be no sacred lights on the road. “Are there settlements or guard posts in there?”

  Aemon shook his head. “There is nothing until the guard post at the bridge over the Vadose Canyon, near the exit to Deep Cave.”

  Kara changed the subject. “I know this might not be the best thing to bring up before bed, but do you know anything about the missing caravans?”

  Aemon started chewing on his thumb nail, which muffled his voice. “They probably just got lost. I think we will be fine. We will be fine.”

  That wasn’t reassuring. Kara decided to lighten the conversation.

  “How do you know so much, anyway? You said you’ve never been out here before.”

  Morgon’s face split into a grin. “Like I told you before, he read it in a book.”

  “I wish I could read,” Kara said softly. “I knew an old woman that could once. She used to sit me on her lap and read me stories while my mother was busy working.”

  “What happened to her?” Aemon asked.

  The memory of Berda lying in a pool of blood made Kara’s stomach clench. “She died.”

  “I am sorry.”

  Kara sniffed and turned away, wishing to be alone with her thoughts.

  “When we get to Deep Cave, I am going to get drunk,” Morgon said.

&nbs
p; Aemon snorted. “But you never drink.”

  “After this, I think I will.”

  Unable to sleep, Kara got up and walked to the edge of Crystal Lake, making sure she stayed in sight of the bankers in case something happened. She fingered the artifact under her cloak absently, gazing out over the dark water and listening to the soft ripples on the shore.

  On the other side of the lake, the lights of the Five Jewels shone in the distance. Four of the Jewels were the major cities in the Stelemian Cavern. Berda had once told Kara their names. The largest Jewel was her home city, the capital, Stelemia. Then there were the other cities, Crystal Cove and Gravelbank Bridge, as well as the fortress of Dere-Zor with the imposing Gate of Lydan towering behind it. The red spires of the Bastian of Purity marked the fifth Jewel, the citadel of the Inquisitors built on an island about four miles from where Kara stood.

  The capital, twenty miles away, glowed like a candle in the dark. The distant light of the city blurred as tears filled her eyes. Would she ever again walk its carved streets, hear the hum of its sacred lights, feel the hustle and bustle of its markets or smell the beauty of the flowers in the Priest King’s gardens?

  Would it even feel like home, now that her friends were dead?

  “I miss you all. So much. Why did this have to happen?”

  Her only answer was the lap of ripples on the cold shore. Kara closed her eyes, squeezing out the last of her tears. When her mind was calm, she noticed how quiet it was away from the city.

  She was alone. All alone. For the first time in her life, no one was there for her.

  An hour later, Kara returned to the two sleeping bankers. Aemon held a book to his chest while Morgon sucked his thumb in his sleep. Curling up beside them, she stayed awake until most of the men in camp were asleep and no longer posed her any threat.

  Then she let herself slip off.

  IMOGEN... IMOGEN, OPEN your eyes and see what your children have wrought.

  Kara’s eyes fluttered open and she saw, as if for the first time. The light was blinding and unlike any she’d seen living in the caverns. Her eyes gradually adjusted and she found herself standing on a stone altar surrounded by a circle of perfectly carved granite megaliths.

  A twenty-foot-high statue of a woman towered over Kara from just beyond the circle of megaliths, hands raised in the air like those of a beggar. Her carved features projected ancient nobility, sharp and proud. The stone woman wore regal white armor with a sword sheathed at her waist, and on a chain around her neck hung something that looked much like the artifact around Kara’s.

  What looked like large flakes of white dust covered the ground around the altar, and the air was colder than any Kara had ever breathed.

  Look up, Imogen, and tell me what you see.

  Who was Imogen? The voice speaking to Kara was that of a woman, but she didn’t recognize it. Was it the statue?

  Look up, Imogen.

  Not knowing what else to do, Kara raised her eyes. Above her was a vast gray-blue expanse. A thousand twinkling specks of light slowly faded until she could no longer see them.

  What was above her? Some type of stone or decorated ceiling?

  What do you see, Imogen? Tell me what you see.

  “I don’t know what I see. Has the cavern roof been painted that color?”

  No, Imogen. The voice sounded displeased. It is called a sky and it has been hidden by your children for years beyond count.

  “What are the white flakes falling from it?”

  Snow, Imogen. The snow that froze the world.

  “Where am I? I’ve never seen anything like this place before.”

  Why are you pretending to not know, Imogen? This place represents the surface that is high above the darkness you now call home.

  “I’m not pretending anything. I have no idea where I am.” Kara shivered and brushed snow from her hair. “Why is it so cold here?”

  As you well know, the surface was not always this way. Your children did this, Imogen. The children you unleashed upon the world.

  “My children?”

  They are your ancient, soulless offspring who do not feel cold, hunger or pain. You made them that way. You must remember. The voice sounded accusatory, like it harbored great anger toward her.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. My name is—”

  Imogen, Mother of Steel Children and twin sister of Dressen.

  Kara spun around to see if she could find the woman speaking but the surface was a cold, desolate, empty place and there was no sign of any living thing.

  The horizon brightened and an orange disk started to rise above it. Kara’s mouth fell open and she almost backed off the altar. “What’s that?”

  The voice didn’t answer.

  She glanced around but saw nothing except the granite pillars, the statue, the snow, the orange disk and the thing called sky.

  The cold lingered as the disk rose higher, and the world grew so bright Kara had to shield her eyes—but it was not enough.

  The last thing she heard before her eyes burst into flames was laughter.

  KARA JOLTED AWAKE AND clutched her face, unable to breathe. “H... Help, it burns. My eyes.”

  “What is happening?” Morgon gasped. “Is it Veladan?”

  “My eyes—I’m blind.”

  Someone pried open her hands. Aemon stared at her. “Kara, can you see me?”

  “Yes... Yes, I can.”

  He blinked. “What happened? Were you dreaming?”

  “It—It felt so real. My eyes were on fire.”

  “Hey, Veladan’s coming,” Morgon whispered.

  Kara closed her eyes and focused on breathing—in, out, in, out... Once her nerves settled, she opened her eyes again as the warrior stopped in front of them.

  “What’s happening over here, eh?”

  “She was dreaming,” Aemon replied. “She must have had a nightmare.”

  Veladan sneered. “Keep your screaming to yourself next time, girl. We’re all on edge already.”

  Everyone in the camp was looking at her. Kara’s hand wouldn’t stop shaking so she put it into her cloak and gripped the artifact. “I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”

  With a final glare at Aemon, Veladan left. It took Kara a long time to drift off to sleep again. When she did, her dreams were of ancient, soulless enemies, snow and an orange disk that gazed down at her and wept tears of blood.

  When Aemon woke her hours later, it felt like she’d barely slept.

  Chapter 4

  AEMON

  Aemon shivered under his thick woolen jacket. The Limestone Caves were colder than the Stelemian Cavern, the air thicker with moisture. The walls closed in around them and sound became muffled. The wagons traveled single file, with some of the guards walking ahead of the column to do short scouting trips down side passages to search them for danger.

  The darkness became oppressive, the light from a dozen mushroom-stem torches scattered along the column barely enough to penetrate the gloom. The oxen were nervous and often had to be whipped to get them to move. Each man walked in tense silence, watching the shadows and side passages as if they expected something to leap out of one at any moment. The scouts met the column at every junction and chamber, having already scoured them for danger—but each time they reported seeing nothing.

  Kara had pulled her hood over her head and jumped at every unexpected sound. Morgon seemed to have lost all interest in her, the darkness around them occupying his attention.

  Aemon distracted himself from fear by reading a book using light from the torch fastened on a pole beside the driver. At other times, he studied the passing cave features and galleries, some so stunning they took his breath away. There were stalactites and stalagmites, flowstones, shawls, bell holes and the ever-present sound of dripping water. The only other sounds were the wagon wheels rolling over stone, hushed voices or the odd snort of an ox.

  Twice the road sloped sharply upwards. Guards climbed the water-slick
slope to turn the wheel at the top. The drivers attached the wagons to a metal chain, and the men manning the wheel winched them up. It was back-breaking work and the men had to be regularly replaced by others. On the second such slope, Aemon took a turn on the wheel beside Veladan and one of his mercenary companions. The two warriors did most of the work, their muscles bulging.

  When the wagon was up, Veladan slapped Aemon on the back. “I bet that’s the hardest thing you’ve ever done, banker boy. Lot tougher than counting coins and scribbling on parchment, eh?”

  “Not really,” Aemon replied, growing sick of Veladan and his attempts to belittle others. “You would be surprised at how heavy gold bars can be. One bar is worth more coin than you will earn in your entire life, and yet holding them is as mundane to me as you holding your sword.”

  Veladan puffed out his chest like a rooster and took a menacing step forward. Aemon held his ground, knowing the warrior could not kill him, because if he did, Rubin would ensure he and his two comrades died horrible deaths.

  “You better flee back to your mommy, boy,” Veladan snarled. He loomed over Aemon and shoved him backward with his armored chest.

  Aemon wanted to cry out for the other man to leave him alone, but a quote from the great pit-fighter—and a personal hero of Aemon’s—Rexus of Acid Lake, came to him from the back of his mind. Never show your enemy you’re afraid. It will embolden them—and they will come at you all the harder.

  Climbing to his feet, Aemon positioned himself so Veladan could not knock him down again.

  The warrior shoved him harder, but through force of will, Aemon kept his balance. The warrior’s armor jingled as he suddenly roared with laughter. He slapped his hand on Aemon’s shoulder. “You’ve got more backbone than I thought, little lord. I’d have thought you’d wet your pants and run screaming all the way back to the capital.”

  He pushed Aemon away. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood or I’d have smashed your face in.”