Shadows Within the Flame (The Elder Stones Saga Book 2)

by D. K. Holmberg

  Shadows within the Flame

  The Elder Stones Saga Book 2

  D.K. Holmberg

  Copyright © 2019 by D.K. Holmberg

  Cover by Damonza.com

  All rights reserved.

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  Contents

  Prologue

  1. Daniel

  2. Daniel

  3. Lucy

  4. Haern

  5. Haern

  6. Ryn

  7. Lucy

  8. Daniel

  9. Daniel

  10. Lucy

  11. Haern

  12. Haern

  13. Daniel

  14. Lucy

  15. Daniel

  16. Daniel

  17. Ryn

  18. Haern

  19. Haern

  20. Haern

  21. Daniel

  22. Daniel

  23. Haern

  24. Haern

  25. Ryn

  26. Daniel

  27. Haern

  28. Haern

  29. Lucy

  30. Lucy

  31. Haern

  32. Haern

  33. Daniel

  34. Lucy

  35. Daniel

  36. Daniel

  37. Lucy

  38. Haern

  39. Daniel

  40. Lucy

  41. Lucy

  42. Daniel

  43. Ryn

  44. Haern

  45. Volan

  46. Haern

  47. Lucy

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Also by D.K. Holmberg

  Prologue

  Steam rose from the distant mountain, black and thick. It smeared across the sky, creating a fog that climbed ever higher, a beacon that called him back. Volan rubbed the scar along his cheek, feeling the ridge of metal buried beneath it, debating what he might say when he returned. He had failed.

  Failure wasn’t acceptable, not to the Ai’thol. Punishment would be severe. Volan had avoided punishment for so long by succeeding; now that he would return a failure, he feared what might befall him.

  He glanced at the others with him. Of the Chosen who had gone to make the exchange with the Architect, only these two remained.

  So much had been lost because of Lareth. He had tormented them for years, and they had thought they finally had a chance to capture him—and they had had him captured, only to lose him once again.

  It was a mistake that would not be repeated.

  “Why the hesitation, Volan?” Jans asked.

  “Don’t mistake my consideration for hesitation,” Volan said. He had to be careful now, especially after having failed with Lareth. Any sign of weakness would be leapt upon by the rest of the Chosen, especially those with him. They would be eager to cast blame, and while he wasn’t blameless, he would not accept responsibility for everything that had happened. It was not all upon him. The capture of Lareth was meant to be a shared duty.

  It was the Architect’s fault, but he wasn’t someone Volan could blame. The Great One himself had bestowed the Architect’s gifts upon him.

  “You fear standing before him,” Nandal said.

  Volan looked over, glaring at Nandal. “You should worry about yourself.”

  The other man studied Volan for a long moment. He rubbed his finger across his forearm, where his implant was located. It was much less powerful than the one Volan had around his face, but then, Nandal’s potential wasn’t nearly the same as what Volan had. Volan had sacrificed much to reach his position, and after everything he’d been through, he had been so close to finally reaching the payoff, only to see it ripped from him.

  “Someone has to take the blame for this,” Jans said.

  He was smaller, and though Volan couldn’t see it, he was fully aware of the implant beneath the man’s chest. It gave him strength, but it also gave him a certain vitality that Volan didn’t have. It was part of the reason Jans had been selected for this mission. The sort of indestructibility he had was valuable, and the only reason he had survived in the fight.

  “Someone will. Lareth.”

  Nandal grunted. “You give him too much credit. You always have.”

  “You know what he’s taken from us,” Volan said.

  “I know what he’s taken from you, but you blame him for everything when he is little more than an impediment to claiming the rest of the stones. Your focus remains misplaced, Volan.”

  “And yours remains shortsighted,” Volan said, glaring at him. He paused with his hand on his cheek, filling himself with the connection he had to the alloy. It made him strong, powerful, and with anyone else, it would allow him to know their thoughts, but Volan wasn’t able to connect with those currently with him, not the way he wished he could. “Do you really believe I am so fixated on Lareth that I overlook the rest of our responsibilities?”

  Let Nandal believe that his focus was not on Lareth. There were others who could take the blame, others who were equally responsible for what had happened to them, but neither Jans nor Nandal knew of the connection Rel had to Olandar Fahr. When he discovered Rel still lived, everything else would be overlooked. It was the benefit Volan counted on.

  “Who do you intend to lay this on?” Jans asked. He had been mostly silent on their return, having said very little in the time that they had Slid back here. The distance was great, far enough that they couldn’t safely make the journey in a single Slide. It was that distance that protected them.

  “We have many who were lost,” Volan said. “Any of those would be able to take the blame for what transpired.”

  “And by taking the blame, they will not receive the exaltation.”

  Volan grunted. It was a price they would have to pay for failing. All wanted to be Exalted following their demise, and had they not failed in this mission, any of them could have been.

  Volan was determined to be Exalted, though it might not even matter. All that mattered was defeating Lareth. At this point, that was all he cared about.

  How much had he sacrificed in order to be given that opportunity?

  “Would you rather be blamed?” Volan asked.

  “You know I would not,” he said.

  “No, and neither would you,” Volan said, shifting his attention to Nandal. The other man simply stared at Volan, his eyes locked in a flat expression, though Volan didn’t need to know his mind to recognize the hatred burning from within him. He resented Volan and was jealous over his rapid ascension and command, but there were many among the Ai’thol who resented Volan for the same. He was determined to ignore that attention. It did nothing other than distract him.

  He looked at the distant mountain, staring at the smoke rising. It had been his home for the last fifteen years, ever since finding the Ai’thol. Though it terrified him, there was something about it that also soothed him. It was home, at least as much as anyplace was these days. The fires that burned within the forges there gave strength to the Ai’thol, power that few men ever experienced.

  He closed his eyes, focusing on the interior of the mountain, and when he opened them, he had traveled. The inside of the mountain was
warm, the heat from the forges filling the entirety of the mountain with a humid warmth. Moisture was a critical component of everything the Forgers did. Lareth mistakenly believed that the soldiers he had confronted were all Forgers, but they were the Chosen, soldiers who served on behalf of the Ai’thol, not the Forgers.

  They were celebrated. They were the source of the Ai’thol’s power. In time, most who served the Ai’thol dreamed of becoming Forgers. Not Volan. He was content remaining one of the Chosen. It was the way he had always longed to serve, and it was the reason he was gifted as he was. That was something the others did not understand. How could they, when they saw serving as one of the Chosen as a means of elevation and not the endpoint?

  The others appeared next to him, the soft shimmering of light that surrounded them when they emerged the only thing he noticed, other than the gentle pulling of the alloy on his senses. Even that was faint, subtle, though he had honed his ability to recognize it over the years. It was difficult even now, and there were few among the Chosen who had the ability to do so.

  Jans breathed out as they looked around. “We’ve been gone so long,” he said.

  “We have been gone as long as was asked of us,” Volan said.

  “You don’t mind?” Nandal asked. He spoke loudly, as if he thought those listening might care. Volan knew better, which was even more reason for him to continue to serve the Chosen.

  “Why should I mind? Every task we’ve been assigned serves the Ai’thol, and isn’t that our duty as the Chosen?”

  Nandal glared at him, and Volan ignored it. His attention was focused on the man at the far side of the room. Olandar Fahr was immense, imposing, radiating the kind of power that Volan longed for.

  He turned to them, his eyes narrowing. How much did he already know?

  It wouldn’t be altogether unsurprising for him to have already learned about their failure. Olandar Fahr was nothing if not incredibly well connected, and Volan didn’t know if that extended to an ability to detect what took place far beyond the borders of the Ai’thol. Then again, he suspected the Architect had already returned. He hadn’t been a part of the fighting.

  “Just the three of you have returned?” Olandar Fahr asked as he approached. He was dressed in a vest, exposing his muscular chest. Scars angled toward his abdomen, though they might be random scars rather than implants. Volan had never learned whether Fahr had implants the same as the rest of them.

  “Just the three of us,” Volan said, lowering his head. It didn’t do to stare at Olandar Fahr for too long. He would grow agitated, and when he was agitated, violence could often follow. Volan had learned that lesson after seeing far too many suffer for such ignorance.

  “What happened?”

  Could he not know?

  That seemed unlikely. It would be unusual for the Architect not to have returned by now. More likely was that he was testing them. It was the kind of test Volan would expect, but with the others? He could see Nandal denying his own failure—and his capture—though he doubted Jans would make a similar mistake.

  “We were ambushed,” Volan said.

  “Ambushed?” Olandar Fahr glanced from Volan to the others before his gaze settled back upon Volan. As the highest of the Chosen to have gone and returned, he was the one expected to report, and it was an obligation he took seriously. Even if he didn’t want to answer, what choice did he have but to speak as openly and honestly as he could?

  And it was entirely possible that Olandar Fahr knew his thoughts already. There were some who were powerful enough that they could peer beyond the implants, could look inside the Chosen’s minds and know what they were thinking. The most powerful of them was Olandar Fahr.

  “They were not alone.”

  “The agreement was a trade. We should have Lareth.”

  “That was the agreement, but we failed,” Volan said.

  He kept his eyes down, and Jans glanced over at him, the briefest of movements. Did Nandal do the same?

  “You brought nearly one hundred of the Chosen with you. Lareth was able to eliminate all of them?”

  A painful burning sensation began in the back of Volan’s mind. It had to be Olandar Fahr, but Volan didn’t dare attempt to resist. If he did, he would suffer. Just the fleeting thought of resisting left his mind burning even more, as if in punishment for the mere consideration of such a thing.

  There was little doubt that Olandar Fahr had a way of looking past his implant.

  Jans sank to the ground, landing on his knees and clutching his head.

  He was weak. And perhaps he had been foolish enough to attempt to resist. It was not a mistake that Volan would make.

  What of Nandal? He thought himself above Volan, thought himself powerful, but did he think he was so powerful as to escape Olandar Fahr’s ability to peer within their minds?

  There was no sign of Nandal dropping to his knees. A shame, really. Volan would have enjoyed watching him suffer, especially considering how difficult he made things for Volan.

  Olandar Fahr stepped closer to him, grabbing him by the chin and prying his face up. Volan met his eyes. They were nearly completely black. It seemed as if streaks of shadows swirled through them, reminding him of Rel and her power. For all Volan knew, they shared a similar ability.

  “What happened?”

  “Carthenne Rel organized an attack,” he said. The words had the desired effect. Olandar Fahr stiffened—slightly, but enough that Volan knew he had gotten his attention. At least he had guessed correctly. The others thought Lareth the prize, but Volan knew better. And what was more, he had discovered other connections that the others weren’t aware of, and perhaps wouldn’t—and couldn’t—know. “It wasn’t a complete disaster—”

  “How was it not a complete disaster losing nearly one hundred of our Chosen?”

  “If you are after Lareth and Rel, I have learned about those they care about.”

  “They care about many,” Olandar Fahr said.

  “This is different. Lareth has a son who has begun to follow him. He’s not nearly as powerful as his father.” Not nearly as powerful, but from what Volan had been able to determine, it was partly Lareth’s son who had thwarted their attempt at capturing Lareth and the stone. “And Rel has another, a woman she has trained.”

  “I know about this woman. There is no affection between them.”

  “That is what I thought as well, but during the attack, it became clear that Rel does care for this other. She was willing to sacrifice on her behalf.”

  Olandar Fahr released his grip on Volan’s chin, and he took an involuntary step back.

  Perhaps that was a mistake, but his cheek burned where he’d been gripped, and the implant underneath his skin tingled, throbbing.

  Could Olandar Fahr remove the implant without one of the Forgers?

  That was an ability Volan hadn’t considered, and if it were possible, then he needed to be even more careful. He didn’t want to lose that implant, not with everything he had sacrificed to receive it in the first place.

  “Let me redeem myself,” Volan said.

  Olandar Fahr glanced over at Jans. The man still knelt on the ground, hands gripping his head, and he rocked in place, moaning softly. How much of a fool had he been? Had he thought to attack? Or had it been something simpler—a foolish decision to try to refuse access to his mind? Volan hid only one thing from Olandar Fahr, and he kept it buried so deeply within him that even the great Olandar Fahr wouldn’t be able to reach it.

  Nandal clenched his jaw. Whatever he was experiencing wasn’t nearly as painful as what Jans suffered, but Volan suspected the other man still attempted to fight.

  That was another thing Volan had discovered. If he embraced the invasion, allowed it to happen, if he submitted, pain didn’t follow, not like it did for others. Most struggled with submission, especially here where they had reached a position of power.

  “What makes you think that redemption is possible?”

  “I can find them. And when
I do, I will subdue them.”

  “And you think that you can do so?”

  “I would start with Lareth’s son. He is the weaker of the two, and once we have him, we can acquire Lareth.”

  “Others have tried,” Olandar Fahr said.

  “Others have tried, but they haven’t had the appropriate bargaining chip.”

  “If he remains within Elaeavn, we cannot reach him.”

  “Could not reach him. That is the other success,” Volan said. “We managed to secure the Elder Trees.”

  “And yet not the stones.”

  “Not the stones, but we will get them in time,” Volan said.

  Olandar Fahr stared at him for a long moment. The burning flared within Volan’s mind again, lingering for a moment before fading.

  When it was done, he turned to Nandal. “What is your opinion?”

  Nandal glanced over to Volan, sneering at him. “He has failed you once, Great One. He should not be allowed to fail you a second time.”

  “Failure takes on many forms,” Olandar Fahr said. “And he has not failed nearly as much as you might suspect.”

  “He was captured,” Nandal said.

  Volan pressed his lips together. Learning that he had been captured might diminish him in the man’s eyes. And while he had been captured by Lareth’s son, subdued, he had also managed to escape. That should count for something.

  At the same time, Volan had done nothing to mask the fact that he had been captured. It was nothing he had tried to keep from Olandar Fahr, not intending to hide it when the other man climbed through his mind. There would’ve been no way for him to do so anyway. He lacked the ability to conceal that from the other man, especially as it lingered at the forefront of his mind.