The Chronicles of Lumineia: Book 02 - The Gathering

by Ben Hale

  Taryn’s eyebrows pulled together. “What’s a sneaky fox?”

  “You know the old saying 'the wolf is in the hen house'?” Jack asked, and when Taryn nodded he said, “While the wolf brings the farmer to the hen house, the fox takes the turkey off the table.”

  Taryn chuckled to himself. “I would ask who is the fox and who is the wolf, but we both know the answer to that question.” Jack spread his arms out wide, causing Taryn to grin and add, “Should I knock them out or lead them away?”

  “Knock them out fast if you can. If it takes you more than a minute, lead them away or the commotion will draw others here. If we get separated, meet me at the palace.”

  Taryn accepted the instructions with a nod. “Give me a minute.” Looking back at the courtyard he planned his route and then wrapped his cloak around him before stepping out of the darkness. Strolling towards the closest group, he waited until he stood right behind them before striking.

  In a blur of action he brought the knife edge of his hands into the thick necks of two of them. Even as they began to collapse he jumped towards the third and spun to stand behind him. Wrapping one arm under the orc’s head, he placed the other behind his bull neck, cutting off his air supply—and his cry of rage. Struggling to breathe, the orc tore at his arms in a vain attempt to break his iron grip. After a moment the orc lost consciousness and he lowered him to the ground. A quick check revealed that no one had noticed the brief interchange, and he hurried to position their forms. When he was finished, it looked like three orcs playing dice, albeit with more leaning.

  Moving to the next group he stole up behind two of them and bashed their heads together with a soft thud. The other two, clearly drunk, reached for their weapons but seemed unable to find them. Before they got the chance, Taryn kicked one in the stomach and spun to elbow the other in the head. Catching them as they fell, he knocked out the one he’d hit in the stomach and moved to place them into a circle.

  Once again he’d gotten lucky, and no one seemed to have noticed. Dodging to the back of the building and its long shadow, he worked his way around until the last two groups came into view. The largest group had seven orcs dressed as soldiers and looked to be gambling, while the other had two orcs nursing a bottle.

  Shadow jumping, Taryn approached the smaller group. Just as he came within striking distance, one of them looked in his direction, peering into his cloak as he tried to identify him. In a flash Taryn closed the distance and grabbed both of them by the throat. Slamming them back into a wall and out of sight, he lifted them off the ground by their throats. With eyes bulging, they fought to breathe as Taryn choked them until they passed out. As soon as he released his grip, they slumped to the ground and began to breathe again.

  Peering out of his hide, he looked at the last group until he figured out an effective approach. A glint of moonlight flashed off something on the ground. Curious, he crouched to pick up one of the bottles that the two orcs had been drinking from. Remembering how pretending to be drunk had worked at Keese, he stepped out of the darkness and stumbled his way towards the soldiers. Tripping over a stone he bumbled into the center of their game, scattering the dice. Rising to their feet, all the orcs cried out in anger and one of them tried to kick his tumbling form.

  He saw the large foot swinging towards him and rolled out of the way at the last second, causing the orc to lose his footing and collapse onto his knee. Some of the group started to laugh, while one of the other ones reached down and yanked Taryn to his feet. Pushing off the ground as he was pulled, he amplified the momentum and flew back into the orc, knocking him sprawling. Forgetting their anger, the remaining five burst into laughter and jeered at the two that had fallen.

  Taking advantage of the moment, Taryn swayed into the orc by his side and head butted him as he pretended to fall. The laughter increased as a third member of their party fell to the ground. Dropping the ruse, Taryn grabbed the next one in line and tossed him into the other three. All four tumbled to the dirt with Taryn close behind. On his way he knocked out the orc on his knees with a quick elbow to the head. Before the others could rise he threw sharp punches into each of them and stood to check that everyone had been incapacitated.

  A slight movement and a groan from the side brought him to the orc he'd knocked backward. From the lump, Taryn saw that the orcs head had rocked into the hammer on his back. As Taryn walked past he struck the back of his neck and he collapsed.

  A familiar chuckle came from nearby and he looked up to see Jack walking towards him with a small package in his hand. Behind him, two unconscious gnomes slumped against the wall, giving the only sign that he had been there.

  “You make an excellent wolf, Taryn,” Jack said and Taryn grinned.

  “And you make an excellent fox, Jack,” Taryn replied.

  Jack smirked and began moving towards the palace. “Let’s go before they wake up. Orcs can be so cranky when they get out of bed.”

  Stifling a laugh, Taryn turned to follow the thief as he began working his way towards the palace. They had a king to convince.

  Chapter 17: Ryazan

  Taryn and Jack reached the palace after finding the Ocleon and found a hiding spot on a roof across the street. Crouching in the darkness behind a double chimney, they waited for the rest of their group to find them a few minutes later. A flash of moonlight on fair skin gave them away and Taryn stood so they could spot him. Siarra and Liri jumped between the two buildings and knelt in the shadows with them.

  “Took you long enough,” Jack said at the same time as Taryn spoke.

  “You girls OK?”

  Siarra replied first to Jack’s comment. “We ran into a brawl and had to bypass it,” she said, her voice full of acid.

  Liri's eyes sparkled when she looked at Taryn. “We’re fine, thanks for asking.”

  Jack nudged Taryn and gave him a loaded look, reminding him of their conversation about Liri. He turned away as heat flooded his face. Before he could think about it further, Siarra pointed across the street at the palace.

  “That’s where the king lives?” she asked, her tone dubious.

  Taryn understood what she meant. The king’s home barely topped the outer wall and had five levels of windows in it. Built of brick overlayed with broken plaster, the palace looked in almost as much disrepair as the city, and it tilted to the left on the upper levels. Where four grand columns had been attempted in the front, only two remained, while the other two appeared to have fallen down at some point and been carted off. Despite its appearance, it still looked beautiful compared to the rest of Ryazan.

  “Where is the king’s quarters?” Liri asked Jack, but he shook his head.

  “I’ve only been in the place once. After they tried to execute me in the courtyard in front of those steps, I escaped into the palace to avoid the mob out front. I saw a bit of the first three floors until I went through a window on the south side.”

  “Let’s assume it’s on the top floor then. How do we get in?” Siarra said.

  Counting a score of armed orcs in sight, Taryn glanced at Jack with a sly look, “Another sneaky fox?”

  The thief grinned. “Unfortunately not. Those doors,” he pointed towards a pair of doorways at each corner, “have extra guards in case of an intruder—or an escapee. There are also locations nearby that contain hundreds ready if an alarm is raised.”

  Liri tilted her head towards the south side, shrouded in darkness. “How well guarded are the north and south sides?”

  “If they haven’t changed, there should be at least a score, too many for us to risk taking them down without setting off an alarm. Besides, there are no entrances on the sides,” Jack replied.

  Liri touched Taryn on the arm. “You could cut us a door.”

  “Too risky,” Siarra said. “If anyone found it they would know someone is inside, but she cocked her head to the side and looked at Taryn and Jack. “How far can either of you jump?”

  Taryn shrugged and looked at Jack, who said, �
��Twenty or thirty feet— if I can get a running start, but there aren’t any windows on the sides low enough to jump to.”

  Siarra nodded in satisfaction. “Then we will need a ladder.”

  Fifteen minutes later they stood on a roof forty feet from the side of the palace. Siarra concentrated for a moment and bricks began grinding out of the wall to form a ladder leading to a window on the third floor. She muttered to herself about reshaping the mortar so the handholds would be sound, and then opened her eyes.

  Jack looked doubtfully at the expanse and jerked his head. “Not possible, it’s too far,” he whispered.

  Liri glanced at Taryn who raised his hands. “I don’t know. If it were a little less maybe—or if I had help.”

  Jack spun to face him. Bending his knees he cupped his hands together and straightened his arms. “How about a boost?” he asked.

  Taryn grinned and crouched, but waited for Liri to give the all clear before taking the few steps in a rush. Just as he stepped into the cupped hands he leapt at same time that Jack launched him into the air. Flying outward, he watched the wall jump into sharp focus. As he began to descend, he caught one of the handholds. Before he could grab another the brick snapped and he began to fall. Dropping the piece, he reached out and grasped two with his hands and pulled his feet to the wall. For a moment he held his breath, hoping that no one had heard.

  Hearing no response he cautiously scaled the bumped out bricks, and found himself wondering if Liri had seen him. Of course she had seen him, what else would she be paying attention to? Regardless of his logic, he still felt the inexplicable urge to look back at her. The feeling was maddening, and made him wonder if he had lost his mind. And why was his heart pounding at the thought of her smiling up at him . . .? Growling in an attempt to return his focus, he slowed as he approached the opening.

  Reaching the window, he paused to peer into the darkened room. Scanning the space with his senses he heard nothing, so he rolled over the sill and stepped inside. With slow steps he searched the room, but found nothing except a broken bed covered with dust. Satisfied, he turned back to the window and signaled that he was ready.

  While he'd climbed, Jack must have ‘scavenged’ a rope. Now he uncoiled the cord and deftly tossed it up to Taryn. Snatching it out of the air, he secured it to a protruding brick. One by one, Siarra and Liri pulled themselves up the rope. Taryn breathed a sigh of relief when he helped Liri through the window. Looking back, he saw Jack untie the rope and swing to the wall. He glided up the handholds and slipped through the window.

  “Excellent,” Siarra whispered. “Now let’s go find the king.”

  Jack darted to the door with the rest of them mirroring his caution. As he eased the door open it squeaked in protest and he froze. Moving to the hinges he withdrew a rag from a pouch. As he worked, the scent of oil filled Taryn’s nostrils, but before he could ask the thief had already finished. Sliding back to the other side of the door, he slid it open again. Only a tiny squeak escaped the hinges as he opened it enough to see down the hall.

  “Two guards, orcs, one stationary thirty paces down, the other a rover moving towards us. Too late to close the door,” Jack whispered, his form melting into the darkness as lazy footfalls began to sound. With no place to hide, Taryn watched Liri and Siarra ghost their way to the wall behind where the door would open. Echoing their movements, Taryn joined them and inserted himself between Siarra and the door. He held his breath as he tracked the footsteps, getting louder with every stride. Twenty feet, ten feet, five feet, the sounds stopped right outside their room and a low grunt of confusion revealed he’d seen the opening.

  The guard shuffled two steps and swung the door wide, flooding the room with torchlight. A brief moment passed with only the dim sounds from the street trickling in the window. Taryn scanned the bare room, searching in vain for Jack’s hiding spot. Where is he? he thought. Then the guard stepped into the room, his heavy form causing the floorboards to creak. Still blocked from his line of sight by the door, Taryn slid one of his feet forward, readying himself to leap around the door if the guard moved any deeper.

  Without warning a dark shape dropped from above. Landing lightly Jack wrapped his arms around the orcs neck, cutting its cry of alarm to a gurgle. Taryn darted around the door to strike, but stopped short as he saw the full metal helm on the gray-skinned orc. Understanding now why Jack hadn’t struck him, he stepped forward and snatched the torch and the short sword from the guard’s grasp.

  Extinguishing the torch and plunging the room back into shadow, he watched and waited for the thief to finish. Jack flashed him a grateful smirk before focusing on his opponent. With his muscles bulging against his black tunic, the thief worked his headlock until the orc stopped squirming and slumped.

  “Where were you?” Taryn whispered as he helped catch the guard and slide him to the floor.

  Jack jerked his head towards the top of the door. “I stood on the lip,” he replied just as quietly, and Taryn spotted a thin piece of moulding over the door. Barely wide enough for a toe hold, the only way he could have stood there without falling was if there was a hand-hold. Looking up at the ceiling he saw a small hole in the plaster that revealed a section of rafter. Taryn shook his head, wondering how he’d gotten into the position without making a sound.

  “It’s what I do,” Jack whispered, fighting a smile as he read Taryn’s expression.

  Taryn grinned and used his chin to point down the hall as he helped Liri bind and gag the guard. “What about the other one?” he said, but Jack inclined his head and swept his hand out. Taryn’s grin widened at the invitation as he stood and slid towards the door. Just before he could peek down the corridor, Siarra caught his arm. Coming to a halt he looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

  “This isn’t a game, boys,” she whispered, her tone laced with disapproval. “We can’t afford to mess this up.” Although her comment seemed to be directed at Jack, her gaze flicked to Taryn.

  Taryn shrugged and allowed his sister to pull him out of the way. Joining Jack and Liri, he peeked down the hallway. Siarra stood with her back to the open door and leaned out. Straightening, she closed her eyes and her breathing slowed. At first nothing happened, but then the guard gasped and dropped to his knees as his gloved hand clutched his chest. Wheezing, he fought for breath before he collapsed to the floor.

  Taryn looked at Siarra in amazement and she allowed a small smile. “I slowed his heart down so he couldn’t get enough air. He’ll wake up and be irritated that he passed out.” Her eyes flicked to Jack, and the challenge in her faint smile was unmistakable. Confused by the interplay, Taryn looked to Liri in bewilderment. His puzzlement heightened as he saw Liri with an amused expression. Once again Jack’s words about reading women came back to him and he frowned to himself.

  How much have I missed?

  Gazing at Liri's profile, he wished he could talk to her about it, but felt a reluctance to do so. He'd felt an openness with Liri his whole life, but since he'd realized his affection for her, this topic felt untouchable. But if not her, who else? Mae was too closed, Siarra didn't like discussing emotional things, and Trin would probably just laugh. That left only Jack, which meant sarcasm and innuendoes he didn't understand. Was there no one he could talk to?

  He sighed and shoved the irritating thought aside before falling into step behind Liri. Creeping forward, the four of them penetrated the halls of the gnome palace in search of the king. Finding stairs, they climbed to the next floor.

  The few rambling orcs they passed were easily avoided, and a short time later they found a guarded room on the top floor. After Siarra took the guards breath away, they opened the door to find a lavish sitting room lit by a large fire and a few torches. Dressed in a robe, a single gnome sat on the couch in front of the fire with a book in his hands. At the sound of the door he looked up and rose to his feet.

  “Who are you and what are you doing here?” the gnome king demanded in an oddly cultured accent.

&nb
sp; Siarra stepped forward while Taryn and Jack dragged the two guards inside and closed the door. “I am the Oracle, honorable king Talfar, and have come to speak to you on a matter that is vital to your nation's survival.”

  The small yellow-skinned king stared at Siarra before saying, “Prove it.”

  Taryn bit his lip not to smile and caught Liri doing the same thing. Unabashed, Jack laughed as Siarra took the challenge and stepped forward. “Allow me to show you what is coming, Talfar,” she said.

  The king, taken aback by her easy acceptance of his challenge, hesitated before nodding. Siarra approached him and placed her hand on the side of his angular head. When he winced at her touch she said, “Relax, I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Then she transferred her prophetic images into his mind, causing him to go rigid. Taryn watched the gnome king as he envisioned his entire people being wiped out. He’d seen Siarra show this to other leaders and had talked about it a great deal with her. At first he’d felt overwhelmed, but that had given way to disbelief. Now, for the first time since she'd told the shocked high council of the elves, he felt he was beginning to accept it. The gathering had begun, but, for all their heroics, would likely end in the annihilation of every living person in Lumineia.

  Unless he succeeded.

  His uncle had said that every life was precious and important in the battle to do what was right. Now he understood. As he looked back at the people he had met—Braon, Newhawk, and now the king of the gnomes—he realized that each had had their role. Watching the gnome king struggle to draw breath, Taryn’s mind was drawn to the small glass orb in his pocket. Perhaps it was time for him to admit to himself the weight of his destiny. With difficulty, he acknowledged the responsibility that was his birthright . . . and made the decision to activate the prophetic magic—when the time was right.

  The spindly king collapsed to his knees when Siarra severed the connection and he gasped, “What was that?”