by Ember Lane
Barakdor
Book 1
The Legacy Builder -The Chronicles Of Lincoln Hart
Featuring Lincoln Hart
Book 2
Alexa Drey - The Veils Of Lamerell
Featuring Alexa Drey
Book 3
Alexa Drey - Hero Hunting
Featuring Alexa Drey. Guest Star Lincoln Hart
Book 4
The Secrets Of Starellion - The Court Of Lincoln Hart
Featuring Lincoln Hart
Book 5
Alexa Grey - The Prince Of A Cheated House
Featuring Alexa Drey. Cameo by Lincoln Hart
Book 6
Random - The Chaos Of Lincoln Hart
Featuring Lincoln Hart
Book 7
The Gates of Striker Bay
Featuring Alexa Drey
Book 8
The Queen of Harts
Featuring all.
The Gates of Striker Bay
Barakdor 7
Ember Lane
Copyright © 2019 by Ian Thompson
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
ISBN: 9781706779049
Created with Vellum
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
About Barakdor
Chapter One
Star’s Legacy
The sky was the color of my heart, rolling clouds of bruised mauve and black. I gazed over the ship’s side, staring through the steel sea as it vanished into the towering maelstrom of the mists. This close, you could see its chaos, like a million twisters all plaited together, the sea itself sucked into it, helpless in the face of its power. We were pinched between it and the ends of Irydia’s peninsula—Quislaine being the closest shelter in the event of a storm.
Before us lay the Ethmiall Carafore Sea and my meet with Sutech Charm to discharge my fourth veil, probably the easiest to date, definitely the hardest. I needed to ready myself. Petreyer had stripped me of my faith in Barakdor, and that was something I was desperately searching for.
But its love evaded me.
Just when Mandrake needed unity, so war had come—Irydian fought Irydian, rumors of cities aflame in Tharameer, Kobane stirring, armies marching, soldiers dying.
It made all my quests seem worthless.
But we had made strides. I had to cling to that. In a way we’d defeated Variant, killed Morlog’s crafter—Mezzerain’s childhood buddy, Jammer—and ended the mutant occupation. Now it was up to Canelo James, to Calisto Jack, and maybe even the self-serving Carter Green, to keep that land free.
But what hope did they have if Sutech Charm came knocking, or worse ShadowDancer? It was hard to see a grander plan fashioned by those who assumed authority, just the hammer of war smashing down on the anvil of the common man.
I was tasked with delivering Star’s legacy, with meeting the warlord Sutech Charm, and delivering my dire news: his daughter, our friend, had died.
Our ship dipped, plowing through the swell, forging on, regardless of my musing. Pog sat at its front—the bow, or forecastle—a name this grand ship demanded. Pushing myself up, I decided to go see him. He had a way of cheering me up, never looking for direction, always eagerly waiting for it to come to him. So when he stiffened, and at the same time my notifications began to go crazy, I knew something was afoot.
All,
The time has come. Please follow my lead without question, and take the course discussed.
Marista Fenwalker.
Marista Fenwalker has resigned her leadership of Wards of the Old Ways.
Marista Fenwalker has left the guild, Wards of the Old Ways.
Grandma Lumin has left the guild, Wards of the Old Ways.
Melinka has left the guild, Wards of the Old Ways.
May Beth has left the guild, Wards of the Old Ways.
My heart missed a beat. What the hell was happening? Was everything truly falling apart?
“Pog, do you know what’s happening?”
He turned, his expression pure admonishment. “Don’t you read your notifications?”
“What?”
Pog has left the guild, Wards of the Old Ways.
“We leave and join Lincoln’s guild,” he urged, like I was dim.
I looked up my guild menu, finding the quit button and pressing it, telling it I was sure, and then floundering.
“What’s his guild called?”
Pog rolled his eyes. “The House of Mandrake.”
I looked it up, found it, and joined, and it was instantly right—it fit me like a glove. If I were honest, I’d never felt at home in the old guild, more an imposter, an ant among giants. Glenwyth had joined, Megan too, then Cutter’s acceptance flashed up, and that just left Mezzerain, but I guessed it wasn’t his land—the Valkyrian—so I wasn’t surprised when his name didn’t appear.
A shout from above, “Ho!” drew our attention away from guild affairs and back to our ship. Fargor Geraint leaned on the poop deck’s balustrade. “Tarps over them fire tubes,” he shouted, and his crew immediately covered its four secret cannons. It wouldn’t do to give away Sedge’s recent invention, who then drew beside me. “Ready?”
“Not in the slightest.”
“Know what you’re going to say?” Sedge asked.
I shook my head.
“Ho!”
Another shout came from the crow’s nest, the lookout pointing starboard. Fargor brought the ship into the wind and we slowed. He whistled, crooking his finger, beckoning me to him. The first spits of rain came as I sighed and prodded Sedge. “Come with me?”
We walked up together.
Fargor, as did all the crew, had shades of Flip about him, like the sailors of the Five Isles all strove to resemble their charismatic leader. He had the raggedy hair, the flamboyant clothes, and mannerisms to match. His hands grasped the balustrade’s wood banister, white knuckles betraying nerves.
“You still bent on meeting Charm?” he asked, nodding toward three black dots on the horizon.
“I have to. I am duty bound.”
“His colors fly, and he hasn’t come alone.”
“Then he’s no fool. Get me close, and your duty’s discharged.”
Fargor nodded east. “Don’t have me hanging around. Them mists throw out storms like an innkeeper tosses out drunks.”
“I can’t imagine we’ll be long; I don’t have the best news.”
Fargor pursed his lips. “That you don’t.” He looked up at the sky again. “Faster the better. I’ll get you closer but not too close, mind. He ain’t too far from a Forbane, half I heard, and half’s too much for me. They follow go
ds that should have been buried a long, long time ago—secret magic—magic you can’t see.” He drummed his fingers on the balustrade. “Gets in your brain; that’s what I heard. Best get ready. I’ll call for you.”
I knew I’d been dismissed. Folks had a habit of being brief with me now, like I was trouble to be around. Too long and I’d rub off on them. Sedge steered me away, back to Pog.
“Still sure it’s just the two of you?”
“Sure, and I know, Sedge. I know you have every right to come, that you loved her too, but I—”
Sedge put his hands up. “That’s not—”
“I know.”
Mezzerain hadn’t been too happy either. They both wanted to look after me even though I was probably more powerful than the two combined. “Me and Pog will do just fine. We deliver her legacy, and then we leave.”
“You do just that,” Sedge urged.
“What’s the worst that could happen?”
The rowboat’s lantern swung in the gusting breeze as we closed in on Charm’s boats. Rain drove down, in our eyes one minute, behind us the next. From one to the other, tall ships didn’t look so large, but rowboat to tall ship, well, that was a different matter. Mezzerain manned the oars; I hadn’t been able to dissuade him. He’d wanted to bring Glenwyth, wanted to keep all the stone bearers together, but I’d won out on that argument.
Glenwyth housed Enmity and struggled every day with her burden. To move her closer to darkness would place her in even more peril. I was sure Star’s father was darkness. I’d seen the Forbane—witnessed their fearless savagery.
Mezzerain dipped the oars. The sea swell grew, driven by the growing storm, pulled by the full moon, and confused by the chaotic mists, whose roar drowned out all.
“You got words?” he shouted.
“Some. How do you do it? How do you tell a simple man his daughter’s dead, let alone a warlord?”
“Tell him straight. Only way. I’ll be here in the boat, waiting.”
“Only way,” I cried back as Mezzerain grabbed the Jacob’s ladder.
“Right here,” Mezzerain told me.
Pog scampered up. “Come on!”
I took a breath, catching hold of the yawing rope ladder, pulling myself up and jumping over the gunwale. I was immediately grabbed, my hands forced behind my back and my mouth gagged. A blindfold was tied tightly around my eyes. Pushed and bundled forward, my head dipped low, tugged then shoved, tripping but caught, I was then pulled down some steps. The groan of the ship echoed and told me I was now below deck. I was forced into a seat, strapped to it, bonds both around my waist and feet.
A chair scraped next to me, Pog’s muffled voice fueling my growing anger. I didn’t know what I’d expected but a measure of courtesy at least.
“My name is Sutech Charm.” His voice was soft, deliberate. If I’d been back on Earth, I would have described it as educated. Here? Out of place. The clip of footsteps drew a line in front of me, then around, and behind. His breath brushing the nape of my neck. “I’ll let you in on a little secret.” His words spilled close. “I have no magic—Forbane or any other kind.” His heels sounded again. “So you’ll have to excuse my caution—it is no more than that. You are in no danger. Now, who is the less fearsome one? I suppose it all comes down to trust.” The scrape of chair legs on wood, the creak of someone sitting, and all around, the boat’s keel groaned. “Tell me. Can I trust you?”
He pulled the gag from my mouth and untied the blindfold from around my eyes.
“I’m not here to kill you,” I said, packing as much defiance as I could into those seven words.
Sutech Charm wasn’t how I imagined. His graying, black hair was closely cropped, his stark-white shirt pressed, open at the collar, contrasting with his tanned skin. It seemed impossible that he was Star’s father—her own complexion so pale, her hair so blonde.
“But you are here to kill me. You think I’d agree to this meet without knowing the reason?”
“She fought—” My lips trembled, like I was freezing.
“She would,” he said. “She would fight to the end—if she believed what she was fighting for.”
Charm leaned forward, pulling Pog’s gag. “And who is this fearsome creature?” He released his blindfold.
“Pog,” said Pog, and he stood, dusting off his jacket and trousers. “You aren’t so good at tying people up.” Equipping his knife, he freed me too.
Charm crossed his legs, leaning back on his chair. “Do you know, most leaders don’t die on the battlefield—they are killed in rooms just like this by people they underestimate—just like you.”
“We’re not here to kill you,” I repeated. “I have a message from Star and a quest to deliver it.”
Charm arched his fingers. “Tell me, would you deliver it without the quest?”
“I think you know I would.”
“Then discharge your duty.”
I called for the stag. I called for the salamander. And I offered him both. “You know her wish.”
He took them, staring at them. “Unite the Lowlands, but she knows that is what I seek.”
“I think she meant more. I think you know that.”
He scoffed, “Tzia was an idealist, like her mother. Unity only comes through war.”
Congratulations! You have passed through the fourth Veil of Lamerell. The land awards you 3000 XP, 2000 gold. Your reward is ownership of Tzia Tzeng’s legacy bag. Inside you will discover the road to her true wish. You must share it in the presence of her father.
Congratulations! You have exceeded 85,000 XP. You have leveled up. You are now level 22. You have 6 unallocated attribute points.
I quickly allocated them to intelligence, staring at Sutech the whole time.
“I’ve discharged my quest. I can see her wish was futile.”
Sutech raised his hands. “Just what would you have me do? Give up my divine right to rule these lands? Our religion is older than all of their gods.”
A kerfuffle behind drew Charm’s attention away from me. Mezzerain bundled past me, shoving away the crewman trying to restrain him. He stood, his nostrils flared, breathing like a raging bull. “What’s going on?”
Sutech stood, facing up to the big man. “Courtesy, common courtesy. I take it you are Roland’s counter?”
“I am,” Mezzerain growled.
“Then had you been in contact with him, you would know that our customs demand any are offered food and wine—enemy or not.” He snapped his fingers and then retired to a table behind him, pouring from an open bottle of wine. “This new guild—the House of Mandrake—what can you tell me about it?”
I joined him at the table, Pog too, who answered, “It is a coming together, new armies and old, new powers and old.”
“Against me? To persecute the Lowlands as usual? Even the largely neutral Kobane has marched.”
“To counter your threat,” I said.
Sutech Charm raised his hands. “Muscat, Zybandian, this fellow Lincoln, the Kobane, against one? Perhaps you have an inflated opinion of my battle prowess.”
“You encourage that stain of the combinium; their towers pepper Tharameer.”
“It’s a religion—you have your gods; we have ours. Sometimes we have to tolerate intrusion to further our own aims.” Charm looked up. “Bread, wine? Let’s serve.”
I produced Star’s legacy bag, sitting it on my upturned palm, just wanting to get everything done. “I’m to share this with you.”
“What’s in it?”
“A gift from your daughter.”
He cocked his head. “These two symbols,” he said, holding up the salamander and the stag, “are these not her legacy?” He scoffed, “I doubt she trusted them to do more than pique my interest. So let’s see what she really wanted for me.” He leaned forward.
I hesitated, my hand hovering over the bag’s drawstring. Pushing it toward Sutech, I saw doubt ripple across his expression, and as our eyes met, I pulled the string.
Th
e bag’s neck opened and then sagged. I had no idea if I should call for something, if a menu should appear in my mind, or whether her legacy bag held anything more.
A small light came into being, brilliant, a phosphorescent glow that blinded. Shielding my eyes, I leaned away as it grew upward, like a laser. It paused when it reached around six inches high, and three prongs shot out like propeller blades, slowly rotating but soon speeding up to a blur. The cabin’s still air began to swirl.
“I’m not sure about this,” Mezzerain muttered, gripping the table, knuckles white.
Pog’s face glowed, the light spraying itself around, his grin splitting his cheeks.
I held Sutech’s stare as if the challenge was set. He grinned and moved closer. I mirrored his actions. The light expanded, its shaft thickening, growing, the blades atop now just a blur, a disk of luminescence. It jumped again. The whole table began to vibrate. The wind now gusted.
“This business should not be opened here!” Mezzerain growled. “Dry land.”
“Then leave, Valkyrian. My daughter knew exactly where I’d choose for the meet. I, for one, wish to see what she had in mind.”
In answer, Mezzerain gathered his long hair into a ponytail, tied it, and thumped his elbows onto the table. “Then we see together. Tell me, where is Roland Caine?”
