DARK FATE
Book of Sacha: Volume Three
by
Matt Howerter & Jon Reinke
Copyright © 2015 Idea Forge Publishing, LLC
All Rights Reserved
Cover art, design, map illustration and formatting by
Matt Howerter
Website
AUTHOR’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic or physical editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
Dedicated to Chris.
A wonderful player and friend.
Book of Sacha
The Dark Fate Chronicles
A princess has been murdered.
Another must take her place.
A kingdom on the verge of being over run.
Being betrothed to the crown prince is every girl’s dream, unless that girl happens to be Sacha Moridin.
Having watched the heinous act of violence that took her sister’s life, Sacha mourns her murdered twin. Even though the grief is fresh in her heart, she must secretly take on her dead sister’s role as the new bride of Prince Alexander, heir apparent to the kingdom of Basinia.
As future Queen, Sacha will be forced to navigate the political waters of the kingdom, and deal with the invading Wildmen that flee from an even greater foe not far behind.
This would be enough for anyone, but the mystic forces of the Shamonrae must also be mastered if Sacha is to stand a chance of success in the trials to come. If she fails, the kingdom will surely fall and her young daughter, Rylan, will meet her death at the hands of her captor, the monstrous Vinnicus.
The Dark Fate Chronicles
USA
I. Dark Fate The Gathering
II. Book of Kinsey
UK
I. Dark Fate The Gathering
II. Book of Kinsey
Find out more about the authors and Idea Forge Publishing, LLC online at:
Facebook
Website
Sign up for our mailing list!
If you would like to know the instant we have a new book available, please sign up! We will only contact you when a new release has launched.
New Release Notification Sign Up
WORDLESS screams poured from Sacha just like the blood that poured from her sister’s throat.
Sloane dropped limply to the stone paving as the monster, Vinnicus, released her and staggered away. Sacha’s sister shuddered once then went still. Vinnicus came to a halt some distance from Sloane’s body. He remained there, motionless as the sentinel stones that surrounded the circular viewing platform of the Cliffs of Judgment. The monster had brought Teacher and Sacha here to the foot of the falls mere moments ago, it seemed. What should have been a joyous reunion with her sister had instead become the latest scene of a long nightmare.
Weeks ago, the caravan that had been escorting them to Waterfall Citadel for Sloane’s wedding had been attacked during their one-night stay at the quaint riverside town of Riverwood. Sloane had been rescued, but Sacha and Magistrate Brier Harristone from Basinia had been kidnapped by a man who named himself Jagger DeBoucher. The brigand, in turn, claimed to be acting on the orders of a patron who had never been named. Sacha had watched Brier die at their captor’s hands for reasons that were never made clear. Erik and Kinsey had come for her soon after, or so Erik had said. She never laid eyes on Kinsey that night, but she trusted the elf’s word that the half dwarf had come. Her and Erik’s flight from her captors had ended on the banks of the Tanglevine in the hands of monstrous spider-like creatures and her loss of consciousness. The next time she woke, it was in the caves below the very falls that thundered nearby. In a desperately short period of time, her mentor had been enslaved and her child, long thought safe, had been revealed as a hostage of the monstrous Vinnicus. With no help in sight and no strength of her own, Sacha had had no choice but to yield to Vinnicus’s demands. Now she sat at the foot of a waterfall, staring at her sister’s corpse.
Sacha struggled to her feet and staggered across the misted stone before falling once more to land heavily at Sloane’s side. “No,” Sacha sobbed as she cradled her sister’s head. “It’s not fair!”
Sloane’s body was limp, almost flaccid, but still warm through the odd leather outfit that garbed her from neck to toe. Her head lolled back, revealing two deep gashes that marred the skin of Sloane’s neck, but blood no longer flowed from the wounds. Sacha could tell that her sister had spent many hours outside in recent days. The skin of her face and neck had been touched by sun and wind, but the color was washed out, her palette diluted by death. The crystalline blue eyes that marked her as a Pelosian royal were wide and staring. The lifeless gaze held an accusing air for Sacha. “You’ve killed me, sister,” they seemed to say.
Sacha looked away, squeezing her eyes shut, trying to block away the image but only succeeding in etching it more firmly into her memory. She shook her head in despair. This was her fault. If she had been able to kill Vinnicus, none of this would have happened. If she had been more prepared, more powerful, her sister would still be alive, and her daughter would not be held captive by this wicked thing spawned from nightmares.
“Bliss,” mumbled Vinnicus suddenly. The tall, dark figure took a small, staggering step—swaying as if drunk on brandywine. His words were so slurred that she could barely make them out. “Must... must not devour the essence.”
“Mot take you!” Sacha howled at Vinnicus before bending back over her sister’s lifeless body. She was so tired. Since her capture, she had known few waking moments that were not beset by fear or frustration. All that was left to her, all that was left in her, was cradling Sloane’s head and sobbing.
Hands gently touched her shoulders, and she realized that someone had been speaking to her. “Come, my lady,” a familiar voice whispered urgently in her ear. “We must leave.”
Sacha looked up to find the golden hair and green eyes of Chancellor Kesh Tomelen. His usual ingratiating smile was distinctly sick around the edges. Just moments ago, it had been revealed that this pompous man had accused her friends, Erik and Kinsey, of abducting her and holding her for ransom—the same men that had come to rescue her. Fury lent her strength enough to swat away his hands. “Do not lay hands on me, traitor,” she growled. “I will see you in the fires, sir.”
The chancellor recoiled from her venomous response but took no more than a single step away. His frown and raised brow spoke more of pity than guilt or even concern. Kesh appeared to be the only person moving other than Sacha herself. Vinnicus had done something to Teacher that took away her mentor’s ability to act or even perceive the dangers around him. The peaceful expression on his face belied the truth of the moment. Rouke, steadfast companion to Erik and Kinsey, also stood frozen in place, but the soldier appeared to be fighting Vinnicus’s influence somehow. His face was red and sweaty, and his eyes followed the motions of those around him. Kesh’s guards waited in the distance as patiently as cattle.
“As I have already said.” Vinnicus’s voice cut through Sacha’s scattered thoughts. The muttering instability from moments before gone as if it had ne
ver been, and his tone brooked no dispute. “The chancellor shall not be harmed. We are allied now. Together, as family.”
Sacha stared at the creature, aghast. “Never. Never, as a thousand eons pass, will I be your family!” She choked on the last word as she looked down at Sloane. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You’ve taken my family.”
“You are mistaken.” Vinnicus’s long, spider-like fingers touched his chest as if feeling for a heartbeat. “But I must move quickly before my will fails me.”
“Liar!”
“You must leave,” Vinnicus continued, coming closer. There was strain evident on his face. “It is time for you to take your sister’s place as princess and wife.”
“What?! No!” Sacha cried.
“I will help you, my lady. My princess,” Kesh interjected, once again drawing near, his eyes alight. “The task shall not be difficult, I assure you. With my assistance, you will truly be the future queen of Basinia.”
“Ridiculous,” Sacha mumbled, shaking her head. She was so tired. None of this made sense. She couldn’t possibly take Sloane’s place. “This can’t happen. It’s just ridiculous.”
Chancellor Kesh reached out. “I will help—”
“Enough, Chancellor,” Vinnicus interrupted. “I have another task for you.” The pale creature again turned his gaze to Sacha. “There is another here that will see the princess to her appointed place.”
Rouke stumbled into motion as the geis that had held him fast lifted. He wore a close-fitting leather outfit that was a twin to Sloane’s. His steps were accompanied by the tinkling rattle of buckles and clasps that dangled in profusion. His hand instinctively slipped to the empty scabbard at his side. When his fingers slapped the leather, he halted in mid-step. His eyes drifted from Kesh’s motionless entourage and the vacantly smiling Teacher to the pair of women on the ground and finally to the path on which Erik and the dwarves had made their exit. “You’re meanin’ me, I suppose,” the soldier said.
“Yes,” Vinnicus replied.
Rouke stood lost in thought, the muscles in his jaw working as he battled with some decision. After a moment’s evaluation, he stepped over to the sisters. The multiple buckles and straps in his odd outfit clinked together as he moved. He knelt beside Sacha. “I don’t think I can kill this thing,” he said softly but not in an effort to be unheard. “But I’ll try if you say so.” His eyes, grass green and touched with flecks of yellow, were honest and unafraid.
Sacha stared blankly at Rouke for a long moment. Even though she had never come to know this man during their travels, she knew that Erik trusted him. In spite of everything that had transpired, she found that simple fact was enough. Enough to know that Rouke was a friend. She slowly shook her head. “I’ve seen too much death today. I’ll not sentence you to yours.”
Rouke gave a single nod. His strong hands lifted Sloane’s body from Sacha’s lap and laid her gently on the stones. “Forgive me,” he said, setting fingers to the buckles and clasps of the leather suit on Sloane’s body. “She left wearing this. You’ll need to come back in it.” He cast an appraising eye at Sacha. “The suit was made for her, but I think it should fit.” His hands moved deftly and respectfully as he began to slip Sloane’s body out of the coverings. “I’m sorry there’s no one to help you but me,” he said as he worked on the multitude of buckles.
Sacha leaned over and tugged at the buckles along one of Sloane’s long legs. “It’s okay,” she managed. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Together they were able to extract Sloane’s body from the bizarre costume and then slip Sacha into it. The leather fit closely, but the weeks of stress she had endured left the ensemble slightly looser than it had been on her sister. Not one off-color comment came from the soldier as she wriggled and tugged, nor did his hands wander as he helped her fit into the curves and lines of soft and supple leather. His eyes were intent on the task at hand.
Tears filled Sacha’s eyes as she and Rouke began to clothe Sloane’s body in the rags Sacha had been wearing, but once again Rouke’s steady hands and calm voice saw her through the task. She bent to kiss the top of her sister’s head and murmur one last apology before Rouke drew her to her feet.
Vinnicus stood waiting, his black eyes absorbing the scene and the dim light. Behind the dark form of their captor, Kesh stood with wide eyes, staring at Sacha. The distraction of the task and her overtaxed emotions had kept her from feeling the weight of his gaze earlier, but now she was certain the chancellor had watched the process hungrily.
“Go.” Vinnicus waved a dismissive hand. “We will discuss the details of what is required of you later.”
Rouke leaned closer to Sacha and whispered, “The prince’ll be puttin’ out an alarm soon if he hasn’t already. The Rohdaekhann have returned to the aviary, no doubt.” His gaze shifted to the pale monster responsible for Sloane’s death. “There’s nothin’ else to be done.” His eye twitched, and a scowl made its way across his face. “For now.”
Sacha surrendered to Rouke’s powerful grip and let herself be led away from her sister’s body. Sacha’s mind swiftly became numb as they made their way up the path to Waterfall Citadel. The rocks and trees of the surrounding sanctuary lost their color and definition in her clouded mind. As the climb progressed, she stopped looking from side to side or acknowledging Rouke’s comments on the things that she would need to know.
She lifted one foot to clear a rock in the climb, but her foot only swung forward listlessly. She felt herself begin to fall with a detachment akin to watching the action happening to someone else.
Rouke’s strong arms swept her up, and he continued climbing the steps without pause.
Her body shook with sobs, but no tears came. Her tongue was dry as leather, and she desperately wanted to sleep, but images of those she had lost tormented her. Rouke’s words of concern hit her ears, but it was the creature’s voice that whispered in her mind, You are to be Queen.
Sacha’s mind recoiled from the thought. Her sister’s accusing eyes shattered the last of her will, and the haunted darkness finally claimed her.
Renee’s fingers strummed the mandolin softly, his fingers touching the strings lightly and thumping the body in a counterpoint to the melody of his song. He bent his head low and poured himself into the old song and its lyrics of longing and love. It was harder to sing without sitting straight, but he knew the picture he wanted to paint tonight, and it required full commitment to the role.
The floor filled with couples eager to dance. Each pairing drifted smoothly across the wooden planks in rhythm with his song and each other. The dancers were bathed in enchanting light from the massive hearth fire to his right. The crackling of wood and the whispered shuffle of booted feet added depth to the scene he painted. Renee could tell that the mood was right and the waters had been well baited. Now he only needed to set the hook.
Renee raised his head as he reached a line that required more passion than his previous posture would allow. As he straightened, he let his eyes wander the crowd until his lazy gaze found the young beauty he had been courting this night.
Lisbeth, or “Liz” as she preferred, was sitting with two other girls and watching him raptly. In truth, all three were watching him with wide eyes and flushed faces, but who the other two were, family or friends, didn’t matter. Liz was the one.
Her emerald eyes were quite stunning, and they complemented the shining auburn hair that was even redder than usual in the bright firelight. Her attire was more revealing this evening than that of most of the young prudes who clapped in time with Renee’s drumming fingers. She wore close-fitting, if roughspun, skirts that hugged her frame, giving tantalizing hints of shapely hips. She had set aside a long, hooded cloak to reveal a blouse that left her shoulders bare and plunged deeply between her high, full breasts. Strong, lean arms shaped by hours of hard work on her father’s farm ended in not-yet-calloused hands. Another five or ten years of the rough lifestyle offered by this outback town would bend and twist
her just like the other hags he had seen during the day, but tonight she was perfect. Tonight was all that mattered.
He had seen her the first night he had staggered into Braes Hollow, blown in on the breath of a stormy evening that had soaked him to the bone. Her lovely, prancing form had been one of the main reasons he had seen fit to suspend his flight from Waterfall Citadel and the distasteful problems he had left there.
Initially, he had wanted to put as much distance between himself and the city of waterfalls as possible. He had even considered turning south to the dwarven lands. The short folk could be prickly, but they had a love of music and strong drink that could find him a warm welcome. But Liz’s tilted smile had made him believe that perhaps Braes Hollow was far enough—at least for now.
Renee had never imagined that taking on a contract to seduce Princess Sacha Moridin would end with him thinking that a backwater country town might be acceptable, but perhaps he had been overly optimistic. The details of why the princess was to be corralled and made with child were never given, but the promise of wealth for his service was enough to tempt Renee. Truth be told, most of the job had been to his liking. Even though he had received only a small sum up front and had been forced to flee before collecting the balance, Renee would not have changed the experience.
The plush accommodations afforded him as one of the royal entertainers had been choice. Sacha herself had been a rare treasure as well: heartbreakingly beautiful and just headstrong enough to believe what Renee wanted her to, simply because it defied the will of her father. When the princess’s pregnancy had been revealed, Renee and Sacha had been forced to run. Their flight had not lasted long. One of Sacha’s handmaidens betrayed the princess’s trust, and they had been swooped up by King Hathorn’s troops in mere days. Things had rapidly gone to pot after that. In the end, Renee had been forced to appear grateful for the sentence of being shipped to an active battlefield in favor of being summarily executed in King Hathorn’s court.
Book of Sacha: Dark Fate (The Dark Fate Chronicles 3) Page 1
