by Hooke, Isaac
BREAKER
MONSTER TAMER BOOK ONE
Isaac Hooke
For my Mother
My greatest, most devoted fan.
1938 - 2018
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
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Afterword
About the Author
Acknowledgments
In Closing
1
The Darkness was coming for Malem tonight. He could sense it.
He had been running from it his entire life. He didn’t know why it sought him, but if he ever stayed in one place too long, it always chased him away. Hell, it came for him even when he was on the move.
But he had definitely overstayed his welcome in Bracken, that was for sure. Grown too accustomed to the soft beds of the inn and the pleasures of the flesh. The innkeeper’s daughter had provided much of the latter; it was just as well that her father had kicked him out when he found out. The proprietor had called the guards on him, and they’d handily forced Malem out of town that very night.
In his mind’s eye he could still see those blonde locks that dangled so dreamily down her tanned shoulders, and below, the milky white bosom just waiting to be….
He pushed the memory aside and spurred Bounder to a quick trot through the dark path in the woods. The moonlight didn’t penetrate very well through the claw-like branches above, but his night vision made up for that. He had temporarily granted the ability to his iguanid mount. And Felipe, the little monkey clinging to his shoulder. He could also grant them strength and restore vigor, though it would cost him.
Felipe shifted nervously. The cap of hair on its head always reminded Malem of a monk’s cowl.
“Yes,” he told the capuchin. “It’s coming. You feel it?”
In answer, Felipe merely clung all the tighter to his jacket.
Malem reached out, searching for other animals. There were birds and squirrels hidden in their nests, most asleep, but those still awake were wary of his passage. There were skunks and raccoons, foxes and boars, and two larger entities he couldn’t quite place. Probably elk or deer. The presence of all these animals put him at ease, and reminded him that he was never truly alone in the woods, which always felt like home to him.
Except for tonight.
He felt a spike in fear from one of the larger entities, but that was probably due to them sensing his presence. The two quickly scampered away and his awareness of them faded until they vanished entirely.
He returned his attention to the road.
“Where are you?” Malem said softly, scanning the gnarled trunks around him.
Bounder jerked forward suddenly and Malem was nearly thrown from the seat.
The iguanid straightened, recovering from its misstep. Bounder had tripped on the exposed root of one of the pines that bordered the path.
“Pay attention,” Malem scolded the animal.
Bounder cooed softly in response. There was fright in that murmuring sound.
Malem caressed the upper flanks of the big lizard’s neck. “It’s going to be all right. We’ve been through worse.”
He felt the fear emanating from both of his friends.
Fear. It was infectious.
What if it wasn’t the Darkness they feared, but something more mundane, and closer at hand?
He reached out once more, keeping his eyes on the road ahead, because while he could sense animals, and even some monsters, he had no sense of human beings at all. If there were any highwaymen out here…
Malem drew his sword from its scabbard on his back.
He sensed a spike in fear from a raccoon somewhere overhead. The animal had been awake, and aware of his presence, so the sudden spike was uncharacteristic. No animal in such a high perch would be so afraid of his passage. Unless there was something else much closer at hand responsible.
Pain exploded in Malem’s shoulder as something hard slammed into him and tore him off the seat, and he fell to the forest floor.
Felipe, screeching but uninjured, landed beside him. The animal ran in panicked circles along the ground next to him, not knowing what to do. Winded, Malem mentally commanded the monkey to retreat into the trees and the animal scampered up the closest trunk. Meanwhile, he ordered Bounder, who had stopped in confusion, to retreat down the trail, and the iguanid promptly broke into a gallop.
“He’s got an iguanid mount!” a male voice exclaimed from somewhere overhead. “Catch it!”
“Too late now,” a woman’s voice retorted.
The thrumming of Bounder’s huge feet receded. Malem half-expected arrows to fly at the animal in pursuit, but none came.
“That would have brought in enough drachmae to last for months!” the first man exclaimed.
“We’ll hunt it down later.” Another voice, also male. “It won’t go far, not without its master.”
That meant there were at least three. Probably more. Bandits usually travelled in groups of five or more—there was safety in numbers, especially in these woods.
Malem shifted. His upper arm throbbed agonizingly. He glanced at the fletching protruding from his shoulder.
An ordinary arrow wouldn’t have thrown Malem from his mount like that. It had to be a Knockback, a magically enhanced variant.
The kind brigands favored.
Four dark figures dropped from the trees and landed around him.
Wincing, Malem reached for his sword, which had dropped to the ground beside him, but a thick boot stepped on the blade.
“Oh, no you don’t,” came a deep male voice.
“You don’t want to do this,” Malem said, struggling to sit up. “Not tonight.”
A boot slammed into him and he fell on his back once more.
Someone struck a torch. The sudden brightness momentarily blinded Malem’s night-adjusted eyes.
Rough hands folded his arms behind his back—causing the agony in his shoulder to flare again. A moment later those same hands bound his wrists with a thick rope.
“Up,” a man said. When Malem didn’t obey, the man yanked forcefully. “Up!”
Malem reluctantly stood. Stars danced across his vision like thrown salt and he felt a moment of lightheadedness. Callused hands gripped him above the elbows and forced him forward, and it was all Malem could do to keep his balance.
He staggered through the trees guided by those hands. Branches whipped at his face and neck. As his eyes adjusted to the brightness from the torches, he began to see a little bit. Enough to avoid tripping on the gnarled roots protruding from the ground, at least. Because of his position at the fro
nt of the group, he had no idea how many bandits there were.
He sensed four animals waiting ahead. Horses, probably.
He could also hear a buzzing inside his head now: the Darkness was almost here.
He reached a clearing, where the highwaymen had created a temporary camp. Tents surrounded a doused fire pit, and sure enough, four horses were secured to trees nearby. If the bandits rode those horses in pairs, that meant there were eight in total. If not...
Someone splashed some sort of liquid onto the charred logs in the fire pit, and Malem smelled lamp oil. The torch was tossed into the pit a moment later, igniting it. Malem was thrown to the ground in front of it.
He rolled to one side to get a look at his captors. There were only four after all: three men and one woman. The lower halves of their jaws were covered in scarves, which they lowered as they took a seat on a log near the fire.
The grimy-faced woman had taken the pouch from Malem’s waist, and she emptied the contents into her palm. She glanced at the biggest man in the group, obviously their ringleader, and likely her lover. “Some unguents. A few drachmae. That’s it.”
“A piss-poor catch,” the scrawny man beside her said. “His gear is shit. His sword is shit. The only thing of any value is that iguanid. We need to track it down.”
The ringleader nodded.
The woman returned the items to the pouch and secured it to her waist next to the other small bags that hung from her belt.
Malem caught a glimpse of a tiny head next to the log behind her, and he sat up to draw the attention of the bandits. When all eyes were on him, he repeated the warning he had given earlier. “You don’t want to do this.”
The ringleader grinned in the firelight, revealing several rotten and yellowed teeth. He got up, waltzed over, and then leaned over so his face was directly in front of Malem’s. That hot breath reeked of garlic, alcohol, and… dung. No wait, that latter odor was coming from the man’s body.
“Don’t want to do this?” Spittle sprayed Malem’s face as the man spoke. “Actually, we do, Runt.” He stepped back, stood up, and smiled once more. “Aren’t you wondering why we took off our masks?”
Malem didn’t answer. Instead, his eyes drifted to the woman. The pouch at her belt—his pouch—had disappeared. Along with a couple of her other bags.
“It’s because you’re never going to squeal on us,” the ringleader continued. “You want to know why?”
Malem returned his attention to the man, but still remained silent.
“Ain’t much for talking, is he?” the scrawny man behind him said.
The ringleader shrugged, keeping his attention on Malem. “I’ll tell you why. We’re cutting out your tongue before we let you go. What do you think of that?”
The buzzing increased to a fever pitch in Malem’s head.
His eyes drifted to the edge of the camp, where the light of the fire met the darkness. “Don’t you see them?”
“See what?” the scrawny man on the log behind the ringleader said, his voice tinged with fear.
The bandit beside him laughed. “He’s just trying to scare you, Charley! Relax!”
The horses began whinnying loudly and straining against their binds.
The bandit stopped laughing and gazed at the horses. It was obvious that he, too, was getting worried.
“He’s a Breaker,” the ringleader said. “That’s the only explanation. He’s doing this.” The bandit swung his arm and hit Malem in the face with a backhand.
Malem’s neck snapped to the side and he rocked in place. He felt the blood trickle down his lips.
“Stop it, Beast Breaker,” the ringleader said.
Malem gazed at the ringleader and smiled grimly. “I wish it was me.” He bobbed his head toward the darkness. “The shadows. Look at them. Where dark meets light. The shadows flicker faster than the flames that cast them. As if alive.”
“Shit,” Charley said. “He’s right!”
“No he’s not,” the ringleader said. “It’s your imagination.”
“No, look!” Charley said.
The ringleader scowled at the man, then turned around to look at the flickering shadows near the edge of camp.
“Seems fine to me…” the ringleader said.
One of the bandits got up from the log and held a torch into the fire pit to ignite it. Then he stepped over the fallen tree and approached the edge of the camp.
The horses were rearing now, struggling wildly to break free.
“I said stop!” The ringleader hit Malem again, harder, and he dropped to the dirt. His face was throbbing.
The horses continued to rear, but no one payed attention: the eyes of everyone in the camp were fixed on the dark.
As the bandit neared the perimeter, the pool of light created by the torch suddenly ceased to penetrate the night beyond.
“Look!” Charley hissed. “See? That’s not natural!”
The bandit threw his torch into the darkness and the flames promptly went out. He retreated toward the main campfire in fright.
And then the dark came alive.
It twisted, writhing, and streaks of swirling blackness shot forward. The ringleader was caught in the grasp of that Darkness, and he screamed as it devoured him, yanking him backward into the night.
The woman was next in line, but Bounder burst through the trees then and snatched her up in its maw, narrowly carrying her away from the Dark.
The remaining highwaymen fled toward their struggling horses.
Bounder leaped over the campfire.
Felipe had been working on Malem’s binds since retrieving his pouch from the woman, and in that moment the monkey freed him. Felipe climbed onto his shoulder, and he scrambled to his feet in time to grab onto Bounder’s bridle as the iguanid cantered past.
The tentacled Darkness ignored the other highwaymen and made straight for Malem as he pulled himself into the saddle and spurred the giant lizard into an all-out gallop.
The bandit woman squirmed in Bounder’s jaws, flailing her legs and beating at his maw as the iguanid carried her. She yelled the whole time.
As the campfire retreated behind them, Malem activated his night vision and conferred the gift to his two animals—their own night vision would have been lost when exposed to the relative brightness of the camp.
The trees clawed at his body, as if trying to drag him out of the saddle; he glanced over his shoulder and spotted the ghostly hands forming near the outskirts of the pursuing mass, its long tendrils reaching for him. Any trees in its path were drained of all life as the Darkness passed through them, the branches and trunks splintering as the dead wood was no longer able to hold up its own weight, and the leaves withering and dropping away.
One of the woman’s screams particularly grated on his nerves then, because it was loud enough to hurt.
“Shut up, woman!” Malem said. “I’m trying to save your life!”
She only screamed louder.
With a sigh, Malem spurred Bounder on all the harder, physically and mentally. He supposed it couldn’t be all that comfortable for her down there, what with all that prickly undergrowth whipping at her as the thick-skinned iguanid tore through.
Finally, they found the main trail and continued west. The captive woman’s screams subsided, and she struggled less. Yes, the brambly foliage definitely hadn’t been pleasant for her.
Behind him, the Darkness burst through the trees and closed. In his night vision, it appeared as a dark, shapeless mass that was blacker than the surrounding night.
He held a hand to Bounder’s neck and imparted strength.
Malem collapsed in the saddle and leaned against the neck. Felipe scrambled out from underneath him before getting crushed, and rode on his back.
“Run straight and true,” he whispered to Bounder.
The iguanid ran faster. If Bounder tripped now, that would be the end of them…
Behind him, the Darkness slowly receded, unable to keep pace with the strength
-enhanced animal. It let out a quiet shriek of frustration, and then faded out, taking the buzzing in his head along with it. The Dark had lost this latest round, but always there was the promise of next time.
Malem let Bounder run at the same pace for a while longer, in case this was some trick on the part of the Darkness. The animal’s breath wheezed from the sides of its mouth, straining past the trapped woman. When the animal’s panting became too ragged, at last Malem let up. He would run the iguanid to its death if he didn’t stop.
He pulled the animal up short in a place where the trees were sparser and the light of the moon could penetrate more easily. It was a comfort, that light. A respite from the dark.
Without that buzzing in his head, and the thudding footfalls of his mount, and the wind induced by his passage, the forest around him seemed eerily quiet.
He paused, reaching out with his senses, gauging the alarm in nearby rodents and night birds. It was ebbing: the Darkness was gone, he was sure of it. That gave him a few weeks of relief, at least. The longest he had gone without seeing it was six months. The shortest, ten days. Lately, it averaged between one and three weeks. Sometimes he could tell when it was coming, sometimes not.
Tonight had been one of the lucky times that he could.
2
Malem led Bounder at a walk through the trees to make camp. The woman had ceased struggling entirely by then.
When he found a spot, he lowered himself to the dirt. Now that the Darkness was no longer there to distract him, the pain in his shoulder flared anew, and he flinched. He sat roughly against a tree.
