by C. Ellsworth
FALL OF ASHES
Copyright © 2017 by C. Ellsworth
Cover art copyright © 2017 by Kari Christensen
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.
For Connie Ellsworth, who’s unconditional support guided me through uncertainty, and who’s unwavering faith in me kept this dream alive.
For Lexanne Ellsworth, my love, my life, ever at my side through adventures unending.
CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Epilogue
Prologue
Jessa’s foot slipped on the rocky slope, sending debris raining down on the man behind her. A cloud of dust billowed up around them, carried high by a light breeze. The ones chasing them would see it clearly if they were looking this way. How close were they now? Her heart pounded beneath her ribs, and her breath came in gasps.
“Keep going, Jess!” Nathan’s voice was desperate, his breath heavy. “He can’t be far behind!”
Jess took a deep breath, tucked a strand of auburn hair behind her ear, and then launched herself forward. They were nearing the top of the slope, and it would be just a little farther from there before they finally escaped the crevice. Almost there!
She scrambled over the crest, and then turned and helped Nathan climb the last couple of feet. He winced as she pulled him up, his left arm pressed to his side where blood had pooled through his once-white shirt. There was so much blood. How was he still moving?
Below a mane of dark hair, his forehead bore an oozing gash that bled slowly into his left eye. He slouched heavily, feet dragging. Jess’s own legs quivered weakly, and her lungs burned with each breath. “We made it past the hard part, Nathan. We’re almost to the top now.” She sucked in a deep breath and coughed. The gray dust of this place was everywhere! “Just a little farther to the Tower now.”
Above them, dark, swarming clouds rumbled, as though the heavens mocked them. Jess scanned the area, watching for movement, watching for a hint of their pursuer. Gray. There was nothing but gray all around them, save for a large rock here or a twisted shrub there. It was a place of death, and just being here seemed to leach the life from her.
Nathan took a wavering step and then stopped, wobbling as he stood, hunched over with his arm still pressed to his side. His face—typically a shade of bronze like her own—was now ashen, and it wasn’t just from the dust.
A cry pierced the air.
Jess’s heart dropped into her stomach. Time had run out. Their pursuer had found the trail. “Hurry, Nathan!” That was meant to sound forceful and commanding, but—tired as she was—the words came out sounding more like a plea. It would be so easy to lie down and wait for the end. She wouldn’t give up now, though, not when they were this close.
She clenched her teeth and forced herself to move. I won’t let Nathan die in this place. We’re going to get through this. Together!
Jess dragged Nathan forward, drawing pained grunts from his lips. She pulled his free arm around her shoulder and gripped him tight. She could do this! She had to! She all but carried him as they stumbled up a small rise, rocks shifting under foot and nearly sending them tumbling. They kept moving one step after the other, and when they finally reached top, her jaw dropped, and the breath caught in her throat.
Standing before them, reaching perhaps three hundred feet into the sky, was a gleaming silver Tower. It was cylindrical, tapering to its highest point. The surface looked to be fashioned from a dull metal, untouched by rust or blemish of any kind. Rib-like formations encircled it, winding upward to the top like giant serpents strangling their prey. And then there was the Spirelight.
At its peak, a pulsing, orange beam shot from the Tower and into the sky, piercing through dark, grumbling clouds and beyond, until it faded from sight. The Spirelight was bright enough at this distance that, even at dusk, it would have appeared as midday. And with each pulse of the beam, a deep, vibrating hum emanated outward, shaking the ground lightly beneath them.
“I never imagined it would be so . . . beautiful,” Jess whispered. And terrifying.
Nathan’s words came faintly. “We made it.” His eyes drifted closed again.
Jess took him by the chin and turned his face to hers. “Yes, we made it, Nathan.” She had to sound calm and confident! “But now we have to get inside, and I’m not leaving you here alone, so let’s keep moving!”
Nathan nodded and allowed her to drag him onward once more, but after just twenty paces, his legs gave way, and the whole of his weight dragged them both to the ground. She scrambled to her knees and rolled him onto his back. His breath was ragged, his face twisted in pain. Lord, give him strength!
Jess pulled Nathan’s head into her lap and wiped at the blood that was seeping into his eye. Her throat grew tight. “Please, Nathan. It’s just a little farther. I know you’re tired and hurting, but I can’t—” Her voice stuck in her throat. Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I—I don’t have the strength to carry you now. I need your help!”
Nathan met her gaze, eyelids drooping. “Give me your knife.” His voice was a raspy whisper.
What? What could he possibly want with her knife? Surely, he wouldn’t be thinking of . . . No, he wouldn’t do that. Not Nathan. She pulled the knife from her belt and pressed it into his right hand. “What are you going to do?”
Nathan licked his parched lips. “I’ll keep an eye out. And if I see anything, I’ll give a shout.”
“But—”
“Jess.” His voice was urgent now, desperate. His hand rose up to touch her cheek before falling weakly to his chest. “You have to go on. Before it’s too late. Now go. Please.”
She looked deeply into his eyes, though the tears blurred her vision. “I won’t be long.” Then she bent low and pressed her lips to his, lingering briefly before drawing away. Please hang on, Nathan! Please!
He smiled weakly. “I’ll try not to wander off.”
Another pulse sounded, sending vibrations through the earth. Jess stood and gave Nathan a final glance, her stomach twisting into knots. Then she turned and broke into a run.
As she drew closer to the base of the Tower, an opening came into view. Someone or something could be lurking nearby, but there wasn’t time to be cautious. She ran as fast as her weary legs would take her.
The entryway opened to a long hallway, dimly lit by pale blue lights in vertical lines along the walls. Jess sped through the lengthy passage, eyes focused intently ahead. The blue lights passed by in a blur, the beat of her heart loud in her ears.
Then the hallway c
ame to an end, opening into a large, circular room that stood empty, save for one thing. She stopped just inside, eyes falling immediately to the dark shape ahead. In the center stood a waist-high square block made from a smooth, dark stone possibly.
The Affirmation Stone.
She took a deep breath. Her thoughts were a scramble, but she had rehearsed this many times. “My Lord . . . my people are ill and dying. Soon there will be no one left. Will you grant us your blessings? Will you help us?”
There was no answer.
She fixed her gaze on the Affirmation Stone and made her feet carry her forward. Her insides trembled. Her stomach churned. The whole town—and Nathan—were depending on her. She would see this through!
The Affirmation Stone now stood before her, and her gaze fell upon the image of a hand with fingers spread and glowing in the same pale light as the lights on the walls. It was not carved, and it didn’t seem to be fastened on in any way. It was as if the glowing shape was a part of the surface of the Affirmation Stone itself.
Her heart pounded in her chest.
She raised a trembling hand. How many had come before and stood upon this very spot? Thousands? Tens of thousands? What if nothing happens at all? Lives are depending on this, on me!
Jess placed her right hand upon the Affirmation Stone, spreading her fingers to fill the glowing shape. She held her breath. Nothing happened. Had she done something wrong? Had she said something wrong? Wait, there was . . . something. . . .
A tingling, crawling sensation creeped into the tips of her fingers. There was no pain, but it still put her stomach in a twist. It was like insects wriggling beneath her skin, and her hand itched to jerk away. It crept up to her wrist.
It wriggled up her arm.
Through her chest.
A cold enveloped her heart, and her mouth dropped open, releasing a shuttering sigh. Her entire body tingled. It felt like . . . something—the Tower itself, maybe—was touching the very essence of her being with curious, probing tendrils of . . . energy . . . seeking, searching.
Then it touched her mind.
Jess gasped, and her body tensed. She rose up on her toes, back arching. Lord of Light! An angry fire flared in her stomach. Her throat constricted in sorrow. Her heart clenched with fear. There was pain and bliss and more, all at the same time!
And then then it was gone.
Jess slumped to her knees, eyes closed, breath heavy. She sat for a long moment and . . . quiet. It was so quiet. She opened her eyes, the room spinning as her vision came into focus. She took a deep breath, heart sinking just a little. The tendrils no longer filled her. Only a faint tingle across her skin remained. Around her, everything was calm. There was no deep hum, no pulsing lights, nothing but silence. Was it over?
Forcing herself to her feet, she looked down upon the Affirmation Stone and blinked. The hand was no longer there, no glow, no outline, not even a hint that it had ever been. Should she touch it again? Would those sensations be there a second time? Her hand moved, half raised to try.
Nathan! How could she have forgotten him? Please be all right!
She turned from the Affirmation Stone and broke into a run. Her legs were no longer jelly beneath her; they were strong! It was as if she had slept an entire week! The daylight drew closer, the pale-blue lights passing by in a blur. The light ahead, from outside, was no longer tinted with the orange of the Tower’s beam. Had she done it?
She burst through the opening, the warmth and light of the sun washing over her. She squinted against the brightness and looked around. The dark clouds were gone, the thunder was gone, and the Spirelight now radiated upward in a calming blue hue. Yes, she had done it! The Affirmation was complete.
There was a flash of motion at the corner of her eye, and she spun. There, standing not five paces away, was a dark-clad man nearly seven feet tall. His massive form was dressed from head to toe in voluminous garments the color of the deepest night. No light reflected from that fabric; it was like staring into an abyss. His eyes—like fierce, pale sapphires—glared from a narrow slit in his midnight mask.
Jess pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle a shriek. Nathan lay motionless at the feet of the stranger, knife still clutched in bloody fingers. Oh, Lord! The stranger turned and plucked him from the ground with his left hand, his other brandishing a long, curved blade. Nathan hung limp, feet dangling above the ground.
Taking a step forward, Jess pressed her hands together before her. “Please! Don’t hurt him!”
The giant gave her a quick glance. And then he thrust his blade through Nathan’s middle.
Jess screamed. The world spun around her. She dropped to her knees, heart aching with the pain of a thousand daggers. This wasn’t happening! This was a nightmare! Wake up! Please, wake up!
Nathan’s body dropped to the ground in a crumpled heap.
The dark figure stepped over him, little droplets of blood running down his impossibly-black garb like raindrops on a pane of glass. He came to stand before her with his blade in hand at his side.
Jess cried, shoulders shuddering. Nathan was there, just feet away, unmoving, silent. They were supposed to get married when they returned. They were supposed to have children, healthy children!
She tore her gaze from Nathan and raised her eyes to look upon his killer. Through the opening in his dark veil was an ugly scar that cut across the bridge of his nose. Her eyes narrowed. When he took her life, the last thing he would see was the fire in her eyes.
He stared back at her with no sign of remorse, no regret, no compassion. There was no emotion at all in those pale eyes. It was true, what they had said; he and his kind weren’t human. They were animals.
With a dark-gloved hand, he reached up and unhooked one side of his veil, letting it drop. His face was chiseled and pale. Pale like a corpse. Then his lips stretched into a wicked grin that sent icy chills down her spine.
Chapter 1
The midmorning air was cool as Addy walked the cobblestone road through town, her long woolen dress making swooshing sounds with each step. The air smelled faintly of damp earth and daisies. Spring had arrived, and the Planting would be in full swing soon.
In her right hand swung a bucket, filled near to top with water from the town’s well, the glassy surface occasionally reflecting the image of her long, dark hair and caramel skin. The walk to the square and back again was a long one, but getting out of the house each morning and seeing others was always nice, especially when winter was behind them.
To either side of the road stood houses, most single-story, with wood-shingled roofs and white-plastered exteriors. All were occupied, save for one or two. That one there had begun to lean, its angled roof sagging inward and its plaster now faded and dingy. Papa would be coming to tear it down soon to scavenge the wood.
A flicker drew her eye. A great light—the Spirelight—lanced high into the sky, showing a pale blue from the west. It was a solid and steady beam, so a bird must have flown across it at just the right moment. Eventually, the Light would turn orange again, though, and another Affirmation would follow.
Addy stepped off of the road and onto the short path leading to the front door to their home. The house was quaint, with that cozy, lived-in feel. The shutters of the two small windows stood open, and the brightly colored curtains stirred in a gentle breeze. Everything was well kept and in good condition, one of the benefits of Papa being a carpenter.
The front door creaked slightly as she pushed her way inside. “I’m home!” She closed the door behind her, blinking until her eyes grew accustomed to the dim interior.
The kitchen area was to her right, complete with sink and a small table and chairs. The sink’s faucet had run dry years ago, though, which is why Addy made the trip to the well each day. The living area—with a stone-mantled fireplace, a cushioned chair, and a high-backed rocker—was to her left.
Gevin looked up from the deep-cushioned rocking chair and gave a small smile. “Hey, Squeaky.” His voice sounded we
ak again this morning, and her heart sunk a little. His face was pale, eyes sunken, and his dark brown hair was disheveled. His small frame looked almost skeletal. At just eleven-years-old, he was too young for this kind of suffering. Too young! He made a short stroke with his knife against a block of wood that was beginning to resemble a cow.
Addy placed two squash and the bucket of water on the table beside a potted daisy. The flower looked a bit wilted this morning, much like Gevin. “Hey, Wiggly.” She put on her best smile. One day he would be well again, despite the Faege that riddled his body. She would find a way. “How are you feeling today?”
“I’m good.” He coughed. “Did you see Richert? He said he would stop by today so we could play marbles.”
“No, I didn’t, but I’m sure he’ll be over soon.” If he could, Richert would live with them. His parents were bitter people who had lost one too many children to the Faege.
Addy took the bucket from the table and carried it to the fireplace, where a large iron pot hung over a slow-burning fire. Gevin gave her a playful poke in the side that made her squeak, and she narrowed her eyes at him in a feigned scowl. “Is Papa in the shop?” She emptied the water into the pot, where it quickly steamed before calming down. Perhaps if she boiled the water a little longer this time, it might somehow make it cleaner, healthier.
Gevin made another stroke with his knife, sending a shaving of wood flying into his lap. “Yeah, he’s fixing Mrs. Pritcher’s spindling wheel.”
Addy grinned. “She broke it again?” She set the bucket beside the fireplace and knuckled her back.
“Yeah.”
“It seems to break once a month. I think she does it on purpose so she has a reason to visit Papa.”
Gevin quirked an eyebrow. “Why would she want to visit—oh . . . ew!” His mouth twisted in disgust.
“Oh, c’mon, Gevin.” Addy tousled his dark hair. “You know Papa could use a good woman in his life.”
Gevin sighed, his eyes downturned. Did he still believe that Mama had died because of him? The Faege wasn’t infectious, but the lump-head wouldn’t believe it. Papa never should have told him that she had gotten sick in the first place.
