Lost Gods
Page 39
He bowed his head, too tired, then twitched awake. There was a muffled voice on the wind. Someone close by. He strained to lift himself, saw the flicker of light in the distance. Campfire. Maybe shelter. He leant on the reins and let her carry him on toward it until the voice grew louder, the firelight brighter. Moments later the voice was near, and then shouting. Then he was being dragged from his horse, his weight borne up and carried. He heard himself groan as his broken thigh was handled, his slashed hip, his cracked ribs pressed as he was brought to rest, wheezing, on his back, staring up into the night sky watching bolts of rain shoot down like tiny falling stars, each one glinting in the campfire as they dropped from the cold black emptiness above.
“Quickly, quickly… Bring the water.”
And so it came, running over his lips and down the sides of his mouth. He gawped like a fish, nearly a day since he’d drunk. He heard someone speaking but couldn’t make sense of the words. He felt so tired. Felt like sleeping.
“Salidor?” The voice hovered above, owner just out of view.
He blinked at the sound of his name, stared up from the ground to the voice that had spoken it. Two faces stared down at him through the downpour. One man. One boy. The man was familiar. He fumbled for a name. “Josef?”
“No… No, it is Daneel.”
Salidor looked up at him, wondered vaguely at what he was doing here, why he wasn’t in Hanesda. Then wondered who the boy was at his side.
“What happened to you, Salidor?”
Salidor blinked again, slowly, his thoughts sluggish;, his breaths felt heavy. He was so tired. “Jasinda is gone,” he said, weaker than a whisper. “It took her. It…” He winced at the memory, the words alone enough to bring it all back, her screaming, her blood, so much blood. “It is gone,” he said. “It is all gone… they are coming.”
Daneel knelt, examining Salidor’s swollen face. The flesh was broken, half-torn away on one side. Gore hung from his jaw and neck. He’d lost an eye. Daneel could see shards of cheekbone prodding through the red seeping viscera. There was another deep gash in Salidor’s shoulder, opened threads of sinew showing down to the bone.
“Salidor. Who did this to you?”
But the man’s remaining eye had closed. His breaths were slowing. Daneel stretched out an arm to ward Noah back, keep him from crowding the broken man on the ground. The boy obeyed quickly and stepped away to watch from the campfire, one part curious, two parts afraid. They’d journeyed this way from the Swift after leaving Josef, going north through the Salt Lands to avoid whatever pursuit might come. No point returning the boy to Dumea and what remained of his kin. The Brotherhood would be waiting for them there, likely squatting in the city’s watchtower with a longbow. Josef had always been good with the longbow.
And so Daneel came north instead, planned to go up to the Ivory Pass by the Calapaari Sea, maybe find a boatman to take them across and beyond the Sovereignty, out of reach of the Brotherhood, if that could ever be so. But that was before staring down into the ripped, battered face of the man before him; wounds unlike any he’d ever heard of or seen before.
“You must tell me who did this to you, Salidor.”
“They are coming…”
“Who? Who are coming?”
“Gone,” Salidor said, his words barely more than a faint breath. “The city is gone… all dead… they are coming.”
“Who, Salidor? Tell me.”
The man blinked, his mouth gaped as though trying to imbibe the air.
“Beasts,” he said finally. “Strange beasts… Dark beasts.” And then he closed his remaining eye, and said nothing more at all.
About the Author
Micah Yongo is a UK-based journalist, writer and videographer. When he’s not writing articles he can be found lamenting the often rainy weather in his beloved hometown of Manchester, working on his true passion – fiction writing – or blogging about the varied things that make the world tick, and those who live in it. Lost Gods is his debut novel.
micahyongo.com • twitter.com/micahyongo
Acknowledgments
“Writing is not a career for those who are easily discouraged.” So said someone famous and wise whose name now escapes me…
But for my part, to have gone from the tiniest kernel of an idea to writing a novel and eventually seeing it published has been both a surreal experience and a long, often bruising journey. One I couldn’t have made alone. Which means I have a few people to whom I owe both what remains of my sanity, and a debt of gratitude.
So, to Elizabeth. Your encouragement was in many ways a catalyst to my beginning this journey. Thank you for always being excited to read my writing. I’ll always celebrate and appreciate the part you played in this story. Always.
I am so thankful too for the love and beauty of my family. My mother, Shimeer, whose strength, courage and dignity I will never be able to fathom or measure. My brother, and hero, Daniel. My sisters: Iveren, Iember and Hannah; whose personalities and colour continue to shape and build me – thank you for being the beautiful and dynamic women that you are. And special thanks to Iveren in particular for your reading of those earlier drafts – your care, patience and encouragement were invaluable. Each of you are, and always will be, a profound treasure.
Burt Ronald… Dude, I’m so thankful for your friendship these last couple of years in particular - your insight, your empathy, and of course the banter. Love you, brother.
To Rachael Kearney, for seeing both this journey and its destination, and cheering me on toward it. You are a precious gift. Thank you.
Thanks to Chris Dabbs and the rest of the Unlimited Potential gang for teaching me to take my passion and dreams seriously.
To my brothers from other mothers: Eniola Foloranmi, Michael Nnadede, Mikey and Ian Fennell, Adrian Ekechukwu, Michael Carolan, Lance and Damien Salmon, Leigh O’Neill and the rest, for being what you are and keeping me company on this crazy ride called life. All love.
Special thanks to John Wordsworth for your diligence, enthusiasm and guidance and for being the literary equivalent of Jerry Maguire. And to my agent, Robert Dinsdale, for your keen insight as a reader, and for the belief and, quite frankly, inhuman levels of perseverance and passion you showed in helping to bring this project to fruition. I am unspeakably grateful.
Thanks too to the editing savant otherwise known as Phil Jourdan. You have a dark and mysterious gift my friend. Marc Gascoigne, for being an all round publishing don and a dude seemingly incapable of anything less than deeply fascinating conversation. And last, but the opposite of least, my deepest thanks to God for all of the above, you make each day that much more fun and beautiful.
Coming Soon…
P a l e K i n g s
Join the Robot Legion
Adventure’s Never End
ANGRY ROBOT
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Who would be king
An Angry Robot paperback original 2018
Copyright © Micah Yongo 2018
Micah Yongo asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
UK ISBN 978 0 85766 737 3
US ISBN 978 0 85766 737 3
Ebook ISBN 978 0 85766 738 0
Cover by Larry Rostant.
Set by Argh! Nottingham.
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than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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ISBN: 978-0-85766-738-0
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Epigraph
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Thirty-Four
Thirty-Five
Thirty-Six
Thirty-Seven
Thirty-Eight
Thirty-Nine
Forty
Forty-One
Forty-Two
Forty-Three
Forty-Four
Forty-Five
Forty-Six
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Join the Robot Legion
Legals
Guide
Cover
Epigraph
Dedication
Text
Acknowledgements
Title Page
Copyright page