Legends of the Ancients

by Candy Crum

  Asher shook his head. "Word has spread about the desert king rising. It’s obviously reached the queen, or they wouldn’t have come looking for you. Your plan has worked so far. You have everyone right where you want them, an army ready to do whatever you want. The more people you ‘save,’ the more loyal they grow. Others who are indifferent are on their own because they know the monsters attack larger groups. They’re the tricky ones. Why the hell would they want to join a growing army if that would make them a target?"

  Zuri smiled. "Because we still have a lot of distance between us and the monsters—for now. That will change if the most recent attack is any indication. As for the rest, they might be hesitant, but it's not set in stone. They just need a damn good reason."

  "What's that supposed to mean? Do you have a grand plan you'd like to share with the rest of the class?"

  "Of course!" Zuri snapped his fingers.

  A young woman rushed over with a cup and pitcher. She poured him a cup of ale and bowed her head slightly before turning away.

  He took several gulps before sighing heavily. "What if we found one of those monsters? Caught it?"

  Asher's eyes widened. "Are you fucking insane? Weren't you just saying how safe we were because of our distance? Why the hell would you want to go find one?"

  "Think about it. We catch one and put it in one of those big-game cages. We use it as bait. These villages have spread out—no more than a hundred people in a settlement now. Most are no more than fifty. If we take the horses out there with one of those bastards on a wagon and poke it, I bet it'll scream. We'll be way too far away from the other demons for them to hear and come to the rescue, but the people in the villages will hear."

  "So, you're planning to scare the shit out of them?" Asher asked. "All due respect, friend, but I think your grief is clouding your judgment."

  Zuri nodded. " I think you're wrong about that. It has to be more than scaring them. See, they'll send their patrol out to check out the situation. When they come, we’ll make it look realistic. Kill 'em, gut 'em like a wild animal would, and leave the parts for the villagers to find. They'll be so sure the monsters have come for them that they'll be begging to join us."

  "That's pretty fucking cold even for you, man," Asher said. "You think it'll work? I mean, think about it. Catching one of those things…" He shook his head. "That sounds like a death sentence."

  "We only have to pull this off once. If we do, word will spread of an attack this far north of the portal, and the villagers, farmers, and everyone in between will seek us out."

  Asher huffed a sarcastic laugh. "Yeah, and so will the queen! You remember her? The bitch who figured us out?"

  Zuri shrugged. "Won't matter. By then, we'll have the army we need. We'll be ready. Not to mention, if we keep that thing alive, we could let it loose on them. I've always wanted to take that damned city, not that I ever thought I'd get a chance. Now, I have no choice. I will have revenge for what they did to my boy."

  Asher took a deep breath and sighed heavily. "I'm gonna take a wild guess and say you can't be talked out of this, right?"

  "Exactly. I'm positive this will work. The plans may vary a bit, depending on the situation. Shit changes in the field, everyone knows that. You just have to trust me."

  After several moments of hesitation, Asher groaned and rolled his eyes. "Fine, but this better not get us killed. You might be the one in charge, but you made me your right hand for a reason. I'm the person who helps you not end up dead."

  Zuri smiled. "Good. Glad to have you on board."

  Chapter Fourteen

  Arryn and her group spent a total of four days at Amon's establishment. Each day, they gave slow-acting healings to the young boy who had been afflicted with something the druids identified as a severe form of degenerative muscular disease. Cathillian healed him in the morning, Arryn healed him after lunch, and Corrine, the best healer among them, gave him a heavy healing in the evening right before bed.

  Over the course of several days, his muscles filled back out and he was able to stand, though he would need physical therapy to learn how to walk properly again. Arryn knew it was only a temporary fix, just like any chronic illness with no cure was. Without their help, he would have lived no more than between thirteen and sixteen years, but they'd given him another five years at least.

  That meant every three to five years, his mother would have to travel to the Dark Forest or find healers who were closer that could do healings at that level. Arryn thought of the young Daoine boy she'd met. After he matured and learned how to control his healing abilities, he would be a good candidate, but she didn't think he'd be ready for several years after the ailing boy would need him. After all, he had no one to teach him.

  After finishing on their mid-day healing on the fourth day, they decided it was time to go. They'd upheld their end of the bargain, and they didn't want to take any more resources from Amon unpaid.

  To Arryn's surprise, as they loaded their gear onto the horses, and each of them climbed onto their respective mounts, Amon rounded the corner of his building with a two-horse wagon.

  Arryn smiled. "Where are you going?"

  He returned the smile. "I'm going with you to the capital. I think I can help you."

  "Help us?" Arryn asked. "What about your business? You're leaving everything behind?"

  Amon nodded. "Now that my friend's son is healed, she and the other girls will look out for business. I've left it in their hands for a few days before, and I haven’t been disappointed. Besides, I've never been to the capital, and you could use the extra hands. I assure you I'm a skilled fighter, and I know how to use my magic well."

  "He's not wrong," Cathillian said. "We could use the help. We can use anything we can get, and we've seen him drop a man with hardly any effort."

  "Aye, lassie. Little Zoe was quite the force ta be reckoned with, an' he's a lot bigger. We should let 'im come if 'e wants ta," Samuel added.

  She sighed and looked at Amon as Margit's words fluttered through her mind. The old woman had mentioned more would join her, and this made her wonder if the woman was more psychic than she let on.

  "Do you understand what we're going to do?" Arryn asked.

  Amon nodded. "I've heard the stories, and I've seen the images on the surface of your thoughts." Her brows rose as she looked at him with borderline anger. He smiled. "You project your thoughts when you're worried. Your barrier fails, and the images are right on the surface. I never peeked, but as a mental magic user, I couldn’t avoid them. Kind of like talking to someone within earshot but not in the conversation. They may not want to hear it, but they can't help what their ears pick up."

  That was a clear enough answer for her. She sensed no ill intentions from him, and even Margit had told Arryn how shitty her mental barriers were. She needed to work on them, and having Amon around would be an excellent way to practice.

  She nodded. "Okay. Well, if you've seen the images, then you know we're up against some terrifying monsters. I don't know what they are or where they came from, but it's our job to kick their asses and hopefully figure out how to close the portals."

  "I'm in." Without waiting for anyone to say anything else, he flicked the reins, urging his horses forward.

  "What's in the wagon?" Cleo asked as she rode next to him on her horse. "Too good to camp out on the ground?"

  Amon laughed. "Not hardly. This wagon is full of barrels of mystic's brew and some of the finest wine in the area."

  "Hey, hey, hey!" Samuel said, riding quickly to catch up to Amon on the other side of the wagon. "Did ye say ye have mystic's brew? How the hell did ye get any o' that?" He paused. "Wait! Why the hell didn't ye offer it?"

  "I had no idea any of you knew what it was, and I save it for myself, my employees, and those who pay the best."

  "Where the hell do ye think that shite came from, laddie? The Heights and Craigston! Where I come from!"

  "Easy there, Samuel. You're getting worked up over nothing," Cat
hillian said, smiling at the rearick.

  "I'm sorry," Amon said. "I had no idea. I've never seen your kind before, so I had no way of knowing. I apologize for not offering you some. Given all you'd done for my friend, I should have. I apologize for my rudeness."

  "It's no big deal," Arryn said. "He's just crabby because he misses home and we dragged him across the sea. If you've never met a rearick before, you should feel lucky he's the first."

  Amon smiled as he watched ahead of him. "Yeah? Why's that?"

  Arryn snorted. "Because that grumpy little ball of hair is the least bitter rearick I've ever met."

  Everyone laughed except Samuel. "Ooh, Matriarch take you all. Lass, here I thought we were friends. Shows what I know."

  Snow picked up speed to walk next to Samuel's horse. Arryn smiled at him. "You know you're family. Don't doubt it for a second."

  The scowling rearick hid a smile. "Shut yer trap, woman."

  Laughing, she said, "I love you, too."

  "If you've never met a rearick, how do you get mystic's brew?" Cathillian asked Amon.

  "When I was in my early teens, mystic missionaries traveled to my hometown and stayed for weeks. I had already discovered my use of mental magic, but I was the only one around who used that school. Everyone was mildly afraid of me, but I never understood why. Looking back, I understand, but I didn't then. It wasn’t until those mystics came through and taught me some control and showed the town how fun it could be that everyone started to see me a bit different.

  "Over the weeks, I trained day and night with them, and they taught me their brand of storytelling. Since they couldn't bring enough of the mystic's brew with them on their travels, they made a few barrels in each town they went to and shared it with the locals during storytime. We'd all gather in a bar or in the square, and they'd tell these grand stories about their travels, with beautiful images of places we'd never seen. Before they left, they taught me how to make the drink. They said I was one of them and I should know how, even if it wasn't strictly allowed."

  "That's incredible," Arryn said. "Did you travel when you were old enough? That seems like the mystics’ way of life. Everyone goes on some kind of journey."

  He nodded. "I did. I traveled east and met some of the most incredible people. The farther east you go, the bigger the cultural differences are. I'm originally from a southern part of the continent, but when I arrived in Kemet, it was just home. I loved it here, so I stayed. I've been here for over a decade."

  "And you never went to the capital?" Bast asked. "If you enjoy finding and learning about new cultures so much, why didn't you visit? It's rich there."

  He shrugged. "I always planned to, but I started my business and got busy with that and never got a chance. All the traveling I've done since has been to acquire supplies or food for the inn. This is a new experience, and I assume we will meet the queen if we're going to the capital with plans to save it. I wanted to come bearing gifts."

  "The alcohol is for m—"

  "It's for the queen?" Cleo said, interrupting her sister.

  "It is!" Amon said with excitement. "I've never met royalty. I was always taught that if you show up to another's home, especially without an invite, you offer a gift. I have nothing valuable a queen would want, but I do have a talent for making the brew and a large stock of aged wines."

  Bast snorted, and Arryn saw Cleo shoot her a look of warning. Arryn was curious about the twins' strange behavior, but she let it go. She rode in silence, listening to the group ask Amon question after question about his many travels.

  Kemet was far different than she’d imagined. After moving through the desert for a while, they traveled next to patches of fertile land that were close enough to the great river to flourish. There were many towns and villages, and everything amazed her. While the earth had healed, it was obvious to her that the landscape used to be much different.

  After several hours of travel, they reached a bigger town, and she could see the evidence of old roads, buildings, and more. Off in the distance were larger, more rundown buildings, some of them giant, but those closer to the town were smaller. They had been partially restored and repurposed for stables and other things.

  "What is all that?" Arryn asked. "I've never seen anything like it."

  "We are nearing the remnants of an ancient city. Well, it was built by the new ancients," Bast said. "The closer to our home we get, the larger the buildings are. Some were hundreds of feet tall long ago, but time and war devastated the area. Over the centuries, Kemetians have torn down or repurposed some of those buildings. The steel that wasn't too damaged was used for weapons, or in some cases, was able to be turned into outbuildings like barns or stables."

  "Buildings hundreds of feet tall, huh?" Arryn asked.

  Cleo looked at her and smiled. "Just wait. You haven't seen anything yet."

  Arryn smiled back, full of excitement. As afraid as she'd been, she was now full of wonder. Kemet was much more than she'd imagined, and every mile they traveled showed her something new and beautiful.

  "I can't wait to see it!" she exclaimed.

  Cleo nodded. "Most of the towns you see were built among cities that existed a few hundred years ago. We don't know much, but we know there were a lot more people back then. Imagine Arcadia but thousands of times bigger. There must have been millions of people, or at the very least, hundreds of thousands. Those buildings were built right next to each other, each one with hundreds of rooms."

  Bast took advantage of her sister’s brief pause to chime in. "Our grandfather said his grandfather helped demo some of them, and they pulled out the strangest furniture. Things were done a lot different back then. Many of the historical objects are housed in the capital today."

  "As neat as all that is," Cleo said, a proud smile stretching across her face, "it's nothing compared to what lies beyond. Not even the new ancients dared to desecrate the sacred grounds by building on them."

  Arryn's eyes widened, and Corrine seemed just as enthralled. She'd encouraged Dante to move faster so she could listen to the history lesson.

  "What do you mean?" Corrine asked with the same wonder in her eyes that Arryn had in her own. "Sacred grounds?"

  Cleo adjusted herself on her horse before continuing. "Our ancestors, as in our ancestors from thousands of years ago, built pyramids where the great pharaohs—or kings—of that time lived. My grandfather said magic didn't exist back then, so no one is sure how they were built. Each stone weighs more than a ton, but no human could have lifted them, even with help. It was a mystery then, and honestly, knowing what we know about how heavy stones are at that size, it's a mystery now.

  "Our people didn't like the way the new ancients built their structures, though we appreciated the architecture. That's why we went back to building the way the old ancients did. There are several sites around Kemet we haven't touched. There is a city across the great river that was once the capital of Kemet, but for the most part, it hasn't been resettled. The center still holds all those tall buildings, though they are in ruins. The buildings along the outskirts of Jadid were smaller, so those were torn down and the usable resources taken for other things. The land in those places has healed and is now fertile again. Maybe we can take you there sometime. It's incredible to see all those giant buildings."

  Arryn thought her head might explode. Arcadia was rich with history, but it only went back sixty-plus years. The Founder and three people he trusted had helped to create that city, but the history began there. No one knew a lot from before then.

  Bast and Cleo had both known and had a relationship with their late grandfather, who in turn had known and had a relationship with his. That was well over a hundred years of history the twins had access to, just because they had a family who'd stayed in the area.

  She thought of her father, and she wondered what he might have to teach her. He was a child when he'd come to Arcadia, so did he have any knowledge of where he'd come from? Had his parents shared any of their history
with him that he could share with her? Corrine was in the same boat. Listening to the twins and the rich history Kemet had made her realize how little she'd used the greatest resource she had: the Chieftain.

  Arryn continued to ride in silence as she listened to Bast and Cleo talk about their country. The more she heard, the more she silently prayed to the Matriarch she would be able to save it.

  Three days had passed since Amara's parents were murdered in front of her eyes, and she hadn't come any closer to figuring out a plan to take revenge. Over and over, her mind replayed everything in gruesome detail. She hadn't been big enough or strong enough. There had been too many of them, and she couldn't help them. She'd failed.

  She refused to fail again.

  Revenge might not be a possibility in her current predicament, but planning an escape sure as hell was. She'd waited for three days, staying silent, keeping her eyes down, and pretending to be afraid. Doing so had made them trust her, trust that they had total control over her. In truth, the only thing she feared was dying before she got to kill that bastard who murdered her parents. Past that, she didn't care about much.

  Several of the men, including Zuri, had left on a mission to trap one of those monsters, which gave her the perfect window. Part of her hoped Zuri failed and died in the process. In fact, for the greater good, she wanted that. She'd overheard the plans. She knew they wanted to bring it back and use it to kill others. Still, there was a desperate, greedy part of her that hoped he survived so she could be the one to do it. Looking into his eyes as the life faded from them was what she wanted most in the world.

  A week ago, she'd been busy planting crops with her father, something she was incredible at and had a passion for. If someone had told her—Amara, the child who loved and respected everything about life—that in less than a week she'd be thinking horrible, murderous thoughts about someone she barely knew, she would have laughed and told them they were crazy.