SunRider: Book 1 (The SunRider Saga)

by Hohmann, Rafael

  They entered the rubble of Kazma and Mal’Bal led them to a tunnel made of fallen buildings where no light penetrated. They were swallowed by the dark and Wahala tread carefully, following the Lich-Lord for hundreds of yards. She caught glimpses of garden plants and crushed stalls. The tunnel had once been an open alley. At the end, a half-crushed wooden frame awaited them as entrance to a bank. Most of the building was flattened under meters of rock, but the central room remained. Dark cold tile reflected the few candles Mal’Bal kept lit. There was a consistent drip in the distance. All counters and desks had been broken or pushed to the side save for the central table where money once exchanged hands. Rancid bodies draped furniture and the smell of rot was strong enough to be a near-physical barrier. Wahala shoved her way into it, her skin shaking with lack of breathable air.

  Mal’Bal sat at the central table and the Golden Puppet scampered off to lay with the dead bodies as a child would with a toy. The Lich-Lord interwove his fingers and stared at her. “Behind me in a crate you will find food. Prepare me a plate, servant. When you’re done, soak a rag in alcohol so I may wash my body.”

  Wahala obeyed, every fiber of her being wanting to tackle the man and tear out his eyes. She found the crate and pulled out a plate which she set with fruits, vegetables, and a chunk of dried meat. She put the food in front of Mal’Bal and went back to search for a cup. In the crate was kitchenware and an abundance of preserved food that would’ve made the hungry cult outside rebel. She spotted a sharp cutting blade and froze. Mal’Bal was turned away from her. Could she do it? Could she move quickly enough? No. She knew it wouldn’t work. Someway, somehow, Mal’Bal would catch her. She gritted her teeth and her chin quivered as she fought herself. A million scenarios of assassination ran through her head. And what if she didn’t try now? What if this was her only opportunity? Her books came to mind: And when inducted head of the people, many words shall be learned. Forbidden it is to use the energy of others to activate these spells. Words of power and construction. Words of control and destruction. Words such as gasta: which is to melt—used by every Queen Priestess to soften gold for ritualization.

  To soften gold.

  Mal’Bal was gold; his entire body. She nearly spoke the word. It was upon the edge of her lips, tottering there. With Mal’Bal’s cup in her hand, she stopped herself, grabbed a bottle of wine, and brought him the items. Nearly—nearly had she brought herself to death. Remembering the times in which she’d seen the man fight, liquefying and re-solidifying his limbs, she knew her limited, inexperienced control over the necromantic language couldn’t stand up to the Lich-Lord’s might. She would have the chance to say one word. Then Mal’Bal would speak phrases, more than she could understand or control. She’d be obliterated, without anything left to identify her body. He would cut her segment by segment and allow the puppet to enjoy the rest. She shivered and waited as the powerful master of the cult ate in silence. Beyond him she could see a sleeping mat in the far back of the room. Near the pillow rested the All-Face mask. The time would come. The poison was safe. The poison would grant her rulership.

  Behind them, footsteps echoed out. Many sets. Mal’Bal wiped his mouth with a rag Wahala had set near him and stood. A small smile played on his lips. “I saw this.” he chanted. “Yes, I saw this.” His glazed look made Wahala shiver. The man was an otherworldly being.

  Out of the dark came a cult member leading a group of eight strangers. When Wahala noticed their wrists, she patted her body violently, trying to find the scythe that was no longer there. Star-Children—eight Star-Children. The cult member stepped to the side and the men and women walked forward, bracers gleaming. When only five paces from the table, they stopped. As one they fell to their knees and bowed their heads. Mal’Bal chuckled and the chuckle grew to a laugh.

  “Lord of the South. Lich. Star-Child.” one spoke, addressing Mal’Bal. “We were wild with the hurricanes of power but now you have brought the perfect storm. There is none that can match your glory. We’ve heard of your dealings with the Southern cities of Lenova and even now bear witness to Kazma’s ruin. Accept us into your fold, so we may drink of the blood of your enemies and receive Lordship under you—over the land.”

  Mal’Bal walked around the table and touched each on the forehead with one finger. Wahala watched on, eyes wide in terror. She hadn’t expected this—no, not at all. The Lich-Lord held a huge open-toothed grin, eyes tiny smoldering coals. “Fight under me my Ventri—my power-thirsty. My Star-Children.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE:

  Challenger

  —Circa 5,616 E.E. (Economic Era-The 17th Era): Finn SunRider and Goblin of the Whey-Weavers meet Leeya SkyBorne and Altin, son of Dain. The moment is considered widely by many to be one of the most crucial tipping points in all the history of Lenova.—

  Finn and Leeya stepped out into the rain to greet Goblin, nearly running to his side in excitement. The gypsy boy, wearing soft thin clothes, looked changed. A little taller, a little wider around the chest. His arms were more defined and his eyes perhaps perceived more, but his standard goofy smile was the same.

  “You’re outside!” Finn exclaimed, punching his friend on the shoulder. It was tough, like punching a wall. Goblin had been training hard under Salt.

  “Good-to-see-you-too.” Goblin laughed, looking Finn up and down. “It-seems-Leeya’s-changed-you. You-no-longer-look-like-a-half-starved-shrew-with-a-flu.”

  “And you no longer look like a flattened cat sat on by the baker’s wife!” Finn retorted.

  “And-you-no-longer-look-like-a-dog-drowning-in-his-own-sick!”

  “And you no longer look like a greased mule rolling down a mountain!”

  The two of them laughed heartily while Leeya furrowed her brow. She looked to be confused by their greeting. “Do the two of you always insult each other like this?” she asked.

  “Well-we-wouldn’t-if-Finn-here-wasn’t-so-ugly!” Goblin cajoled.

  “Or if Goblin was smarter than a caved-in melon!” Finn fought back with a smile.

  Leeya shook her head, her emotionless face not showing how bemused she was. “At-least-we-hadn’t-attempted-to-insult-Salt.” Goblin stated. “Imagine-competing-against-him!”

  “He’d leave us spinning in place, floundering to make scene of the world!” Finn spoke, head nodding solemnly.

  They stopped and wiped the rain from their faces. The weather was letting up, now only a soft drizzle. “Will you finally tell us what’s going on?” Finn asked. “What of the shard?”

  Goblin opened his mouth and from the arena a horn sounded. The group paused. Goblin grinned and walked in the direction of the sound, indicating they should follow. “Come!”

  “But Goblin!” Finn protested. Already Leeya was jogging off after the boy and Finn had to hurry to catch up.

  They moved past the many cabins as other Star-Children left their dry shelters and followed the sound. Many were already gathering around the arena, staring at a form flanked by the two twins, Punishment and Justice. It was Salt, with his hands resting against his hips in a confident stance. The man’s pulled-back hair dripped in the rain and the water made him look more alive than ever. Did the Coalition leader miss sailing on the SeaLake? Finn and his friends drew near to listen in. To his far right, Altin gave Finn a glare.

  “Ye better stick yer ears out and hear my words, ye lard-gutted, jelly-legged trough-eaters!” Salt looked about. “I’m proud of ye all!”

  Finn snorted and a Star-Child looked at him with a disapproving stare. Salt’s way of giving out compliments was unique indeed.

  “Ye have picked a more difficult path of control and nobility! Ye have honed yer skills and gained dominance over yer bracers! Some nearly went mad from it…” Salt stared at a newer Star-Child, who last week had used his power for the first time. The man blushed. The bracer had overwhelmed him and he’d run around, waving his hands and magically gluing people’s limbs together. Someone finally knocked him out and Petreamus healed those injured. Tha
nkfully after First-Use the Star-Child could control himself.

  “As a graduation ceremony, I’ve decided to allow those of ye that choose to, to take turns going into the arena and challenging anyone of their choice to battle!”

  Finn saw Petreamus the healer put a hand to his face and groan. Finn sniggered. He assumed the man was tired of using his ability. Poor Petreamus spent most of his day out setting traps and collecting small wild animals. At least whomever took care of the Coalition’s food had a never-ending supply of meat to feed the Star-Children.

  Salt motioned to the pit. “Go ahead.”

  Immediately Antina stepped forward, her chin out and her lips turned up in confidence. “I am Antina of the Flash and I challenge the Kazman, Leeya!”

  The crowd muttered among themselves and Salt raised an eyebrow in surprise at how quickly the first challenge had been issued. Leeya narrowed her eyes and stepped past Finn. “Weapons or no weapons?” she asked calmly. She looked neither excited nor worried. “Fists and bracers only.” Antina replied.

  They moved to the pit and Finn grabbed Leeya’s arm, hissing into her ear, “Watch out! She can summon water and lightning!” Finn pointed to the subsiding rain. “You must end the battle quickly!” She gave a quick nod and was gone, grabbing one of the ropes hanging over the pit. She dropped to the bottom, following Antina. Finn couldn’t help but remember the strange woman’s fight with Cion and how that’d ended. Goblin, not knowing anything about Antina, looked excited, anticipating an easy win for Leeya.

  Salt raised a hand and the two fighters separated to opposite ends of the pit. Finn, having trained with the girl and accustoming himself to her techniques, could tell by the way Leeya posed herself that she was prepared to run at full speed toward Antina. The crowd leaned in. The skies quieted and rain no longer fell. Finn drew his breath, heart hammering.

  “Begin!” Salt shouted.

  Leeya moved as a blur, rushing across the enclosed space. Her speed was far greater than what she’d used on Finn during their sparing sessions. Seeing her in action showed how much Finn still needed to progress to reach her level. Antina crouched, her bracer activating, creating armor on her arms. Her eyes were narrowed, tracking Leeya. Focus worked through her every limb. She leaned forward, bringing her arms back and to her side as if doing a dance move. She brought them up, pointing forward. A lance made entirely of water flew out from a puddle. Leeya tucked and rolled beneath the projectile, coming to her feet in front of the woman. The water lance burst against the pit wall, chipping stone before exploding into droplets. Antina jabbed at Leeya’s throat but the blow was dodged. They moved with a professional aggression that left the crowd—and Finn—gasping and open-mouthed. They were two ribbons spinning around each other, attempting to tangle but always pulling away to safety.

  Leeya twisted around Antina and threw an elbow, trying to catch the woman’s temple. Antina crouched, sucked moisture from the ground, and splashed Leeya in the eyes. Blinking rapidly, Leeya put one foot on Antina’s bent knee and pushed off, jumping up as if running on air and wrapping her legs around Antina’s head. The move was as quick as it was precise, boggling Finn’s mind. Never had he seen one human climb another in a fight. Leeya leaned forward and grabbed Antina’s stretched arm, pivoting her body. Both crashed down, rolling on the mud and separating. When they sprang back to their feet, Antina was smiling. It was as if the woman had been searching all her life for an equal and had finally found one.

  They wasted no time and skipped forward, arms coming in from all sides, feet keeping their bodies moving so as to not get caught in one place. The first blow went to Antina, who hit Leeya on the mouth, but the following two—in rapid succession—went the other way, striking Antina in the armpit. Antina’s left arm sagged, the muscles no longer working. Finn had seen what Leeya had done: she’d allowed Antina to attack so as to open Antina’s defenses. The injury that Leeya sustained was a worthy exchange for what she’d done to her opponent. The fact that Leeya still hadn’t activated her bracer only proved to point that she was being tactful, waiting to use her ability when she truly needed it.

  Antina pushed away, trying to get clear but Leeya pressed the attack. No matter how quickly Antina moved, she couldn’t recuperate from the first blows. Leeya had seized the opening, growing more aggressive and not leaving any room for Antina to breathe. Finn watched on in awe. Leeya not only had a natural talent for combat, but a talent for strategy. Desperation showed in Antina’s eyes as her back touched the pit wall. Finn knew she hadn’t expected to be bested in a fight.

  Leeya had never looked so beautiful as she did then and there. Her features were striking, like a goddess made of perfect lines. Her lips were slightly parted, as if she was about to smile yet held herself in check. She was so alive. Finn—and many other men in the crowd as well—were loose-jawed.

  Antina let out a screech and a rumble shook the ground. Behind her, the wall exploded in three various places, pillars of high-pressured water cascading out and smashing Leeya against the chest like stampeding animals. Leeya was thrown back across the pit, rolling and tumbling. Antina let out another shriek, her eyes wide and her skin pale with exertion. There was a white flash and Finn was grabbing at his eyes, rubbing at an afterimage of jagged lines. The sound of thunder shook out, rattling his eardrums. He grabbed at Goblin’s shoulder for support and slowly regained his vision. Was Leeya alright?

  Antina was on all-fours, gasping. Her bracer was no longer activated and her injured arm collapsed beneath her, unable to support her weight. Water no longer shot out from behind her. All that was left were three holes in the wall of the pit and trenched areas of mud on the ground. Antina was spent, all her energy used in the lightning attack.

  Finn spotted a form twitching in the mud. It was Leeya. She was laying belly-down, hair over her face, with one hand outstretched and protected by a floating plate of armor. A black star-shape discolored the metal. She’d tried to deflect the entirety of the lightning strike with her suit.

  “Bad move.” someone said. “Metal conducts electricity. I lived in the Grassplains of Faanda. Lots of storms there. We bury large metal rods in the ground to draw lighting away from the people. She did just that—became a conduct. Wouldn’t be surprised if her insides were cooked.”

  Finn nearly swallowed his tongue. Was Leeya dead? Was she horribly injured? To Finn’s shock, Leeya stood up. The crowd gasped. Even Antina, wavering in place, goggled. Leeya patted her clothes, examined herself and her hovering suit. The armor floated to her hand and slid along her skin, returning to her wrist. She looked to Finn.

  “It seems my shield is invulnerable to all attacks. At least it wasn’t touching me as it blocked the strike.”

  She spoke the words in monotone, as if already accepting the fact. Finn though, was amazed with the implications. Even if Leeya’s suit didn’t protect all her body, limited to the size of a plate, she could theoretically counter any form of attack, whether physical or elemental.

  Leeya walked over to Antina, stomping and squelching over the mud. Antina tried to rise but her body didn’t obey. She’d used all she had in a last desperate move. She could only lean back against the wall of the pit and wince, her chest heaving ozone-tasting air. Instead of punching her across the face or kicking her into unconsciousness, Leeya crouched and flicked the woman on the nose. Straight-faced she declared, “I win. Thank you for trying.”

  Finn and the other onlookers erupted into cheers. A few Star-Children went to help Antina climb up. When Leeya was out, Finn fought himself to not rush forward and give her a hug. Instead he grinned and winked. “Couldn’t help but show off?” Leeya granted Finn the smallest of smiles and a nod, then her face was stone once more. But it was enough for Finn, who felt as if he were floating on clouds.

  “Very good!” Salt was saying with a twinkle in his eyes. He nudged one of the twins who stood by his side. “She might even put you to shame, Justice!”

  Many of the Star-Children looked to Leey
a with a sense of respect, one even shouting for her to be named lieutenant of the Coalition. Finn though, noticed three that didn’t cheer: Altin and the two untamed Star-Children, Scarecrow and Mole-Face. Finn’s eyes locked onto Altin’s and the long-haired boy took a step forward, beginning to raise his hand. Was he about to challenge Finn? A voice spoke out—one familiar to his ears: Goblin. The crowd separated around him, giving the gypsy boy room. Everyone grew quiet, shocked at his words. Goblin cleared his throat and spoke again, repeating himself.

  “I-am-Goblin-last-survivor-of-the-tribe-of-Whey-Weavers. I-challenge-both-Salt-and-SunRider-to-a-three-way-battle.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX:

  Assassination

  —Many mysteries and histories of Lenova have been forgotten, lost, or destroyed. There are numerous cities whose origins remain unknown, various ruins and dungeons over a million years old, and riddles with answers left dead on the lips of skeletons long buried.—

  -postscript in Oddities of the Land, Oddities of the Mind, page 998

  I Zul’Ska, Seventy-Ninth Queen Priestess, upon the year of Festered Gold, do document my travels North. We’ve been four centuries confined to our temple ever since the blight, Teancus of the Meat, drew the swarms of husked corpses around our home. In his foolish attempt to breed our animals outside, he brought in the wandering dead from thousands of kilometers. Never had our people seen a swarm of such scale.