The Fire Salamander Chronicles Series: Books 1 - 3: The Fire Salamander Chronicles Series Boxset Book 1

by N M Thorn

  Angelique smiled and kissed him on his cheek. Then she ran her fingers over his prickly stubble. “Last night you were shaved.”

  “I probably was,” he replied, scratching his chin. He glanced at the wall clock and sighed. “I have to go now, Angie. I don’t want Kal and Mrak waiting for me. You know how Kal is… He doesn’t like to wait.”

  She slid off the bed and found her kimono, draping it over her shoulders. “Yes, of course. Go.”

  Gunz got off the bed and put his pants and shoes on. Angelique ran to the kitchen and brought his shirt. He kissed Angelique one more time, taking the shirt out of her hands, and opened his portal in the middle of her bedroom.

  “Be careful, Zane,” she said. “Remember, you’re the one who’s holding my perfect world. It doesn’t exist without you.”

  “Stay away from trouble. If something happens here, Jim is ready. Go to him. Akira and Jim will take care of everything. And as soon as it’s all over, I’ll find you, Angie,” he promised and walked through the portal, leaving her in the dark and empty bedroom.

  He walked out of the portal in the middle of the living room. Karma was sleeping, but he could hear the water running in the guest bathroom on the first floor. Voron was up and getting ready. He glanced at the watch, registering that he had about thirty minutes to take a quick shower and change.

  He ran upstairs, skipping steps. As soon as he closed the door to his bedroom, he yelled, “Mishka!”

  The wyvern materialized immediately, hopping up and down in front of his face.

  “I’m here, boss,” he reported, giving him a military-style salute with his wing.

  “Mishka, I need you to do something extremely important for me,” continued Gunz. “When I leave today, I want you to stay behind. You are not coming with me.”

  “But why, boss?” asked Mishka, horror making his red eyes glow brighter. “I’m bound to protect you. I’m bound by my true master, the Fire Elemental. I can’t disobey his orders.”

  “Mishka, you’re not going to be disobeying Kal,” said Gunz with a sigh. “You’re going to protect me. But instead of protecting my body, I trust you to protect my heart.”

  “I don’t understand,” mumbled Mishka, landing on his shoulder. He craned his long neck down, pressing his head to Gunz’s chest. “Hmm, your heart is still in your chest. I can hear it beating. How can I protect your heart by staying behind?”

  “Aw, Mishka, stop taking everything so literally,” said Gunz, shaking his head. “It was a figure of speech. I need you to stay behind to protect Angelique. Do you understand me?”

  “You want me abandon my duty to protect a little seer?” huffed Mishka.

  “I love her,” replied Gunz quietly, petting the wyvern’s golden wings. “I don’t know what I would do if something happened to her. I’d die…”

  “Eww!” Mishka flew up in the air and made a few circles around him, singing, “Boss got a girlfriend.”

  “Mishka!” yelled Gunz, throwing his hands in the air. “Did I make myself clear? You are going to stay with Angelique, and you are not going to leave her even for a moment. Wherever she goes, you follow her. Until I come back, you’re in charge of her safety.”

  “Fine,” muttered Mishka, finally landing on the bed. “But if someone kills your clumsy ass, and Kal will try to blame me for that, I’m going to tell him that it was all your fault and that he should punish you.”

  “That’s fine,” agreed Gunz, suppressing his laughter. “If I die, you can send Kal to punish me. I have no problem with that. Now, go to Angelique, my friend.”

  Mishka threw a scorching gaze at him and vanished from the room.

  Chapter 33

  ~ Zane Burns, a.k.a. Gunz ~

  The street of the village was empty. Too empty for this time of day. There were neither people nor animals outside. The houses stood dark and cold, unkept, with peeling paint, caved in roofs, and broken fences.

  The winds were hissing and whistling between the houses, banging with the window shutters and open gates. It seemed like the winds were blowing from every direction. Despite the season, it felt wintry.

  The forest that was rising just outside the village stood lifeless, free of foliage. Low dark clouds stretched over the land, threatening to turn into a freezing downpour at any moment. Gunz glanced up at the sky and shivered. He couldn’t feel the cold, but he wasn’t looking forward to the icy rain.

  Kal noticed his discomfort and chuckled. “Relax, Gunz,” he said, his deep voice carried through the empty street by the next gust of the wind. “We’re almost there. Don’t forget, we have a Master of Power with us. If need be, he can control the weather.”

  “Aw, don’t worry, sugar. I’m not going to let you melt,” sang Karma, pushing her hand through the crook of Gunz’s arm. “I’ll protect you from the mean rain. I can always conjure an umbrella for you.”

  Gunz took her leather-clothed hand, shaking it off his arm. He had to admit that today Karma looked badass. No more fluffy slippers and bedazzled pink jeans. She was wearing a black leather jacket and trousers; her outfit complete with combat boots and leather gloves. With a military-style tactical sling-bag on her back and throwing knives in holders attached to her legs, she looked all business. He was sure that inside her jacket, she was also packing some kind of gun or two, but it wasn’t visible on the outside and he didn’t bother asking.

  Mrak Delar pointed to the last house that was sitting right on the border with the forest. “The last house,” he said. “Almost there. But let’s not tempt fate. We have two Fire Salamanders here. A cold rain may present a problem.”

  He channeled the elemental power from nature and his eyes flooded with the darkness of power. Muttering something, he extended his arm up. The wind picked up, driving the rain clouds off the sky. By the time they reached the last house, the sky was clear and airy, but somehow retained its original gray shade.

  Mrak Delar walked through the half-demolished fence and knocked on the door of the last house. No one answered. Mrak knocked again. After a few seconds, they heard slow steps. Someone was shuffling toward the door, hardly moving their feet. The door cracked open and an old lady stepped through the threshold. Her face was covered in a web of deep wrinkles. Her snowy hair was pulled in a tight bun on the back of her head. She looked no less than ninety-years old, but her blue eyes were bright and clear like that of a twenty-year-old girl.

  “My lady,” said Mrak Delar bowing to her.

  She shuffled closer to him, craning her neck to look up at him. “Oh my God,” she whispered, her trembling hand reaching to his face. “Master Mrak Delar. I can’t believe my eyes… You didn’t change at all. Just as handsome and charming as you were in 1812. All these years later. Gwyn ap Nudd said that I’ll see you today, but I didn’t expect to see a young man.”

  “I’m still a Master of Power, Countess Demidova,” replied Mrak Delar, taking her hand and bringing it up to his lips. “Even though I got the title ‘ancient’ attached to my name now, I don’t age at the same pace as humans.”

  “Countess Demidova?” echoed Gunz, flabbergasted. “But you should be dead. Your own daughter killed you years ago. How is it possible?”

  “Oh, she killed me all right.” The old lady chuckled, a smile igniting a bright twinkle in her youthful eyes. She petted Gunz on his cheek with a motherly gesture and waved at the door. “Why are we standing outside? Please come in. October is cold in Arkhangelsk. After all, it is the north of Russia.”

  Gunz walked inside the house and the heat enveloped him. He rolled his shoulders, relaxing, enjoying the warmth and the close presence of his element. The house was light and spacious. On the left, there was a large table with two benches on either side. The table was covered with a white tablecloth. On his right, there was a large fireplace. Bright flames were dancing inside it. He headed to it and squatted, putting his hands into the fire.

  “The young one is a Child of Fire, is he not?” asked the Countess.

  “Ye
s. He’s my child,” replied Kal, sounding like a proud father.

  Gunz felt Kal’s hand on his shoulder and got up. Mrak Delar and Karma were already sitting at the table. They joined them. The Countess sat down next to him and smiled.

  “Gwyn ap Nudd said that you all need my help,” she said. “He convinced Death to bring me back for two days to assist the Guardians and you all. So, what am I doing back in Arkhangelsk and what can I do to help you?”

  “Do you remember that night in Moscow, September 1812?” asked Mrak Delar.

  She chuckled, shaking her head. “You mean that night when you burnt the ancient city to the ground, Master?”

  “Yes, my lady,” replied Mrak Delar calmly, but a dark shadow flashed across his handsome face. “That night I entrusted you with a powerful magical artifact.”

  “I’m dead, Master, but I assure you, my memories are intact,” said the Countess dryly. “I guarded that artifact as long as I deemed it safe. When I felt that there was no one I could trust with it, I summoned Chernobog. He has it now.”

  “He doesn’t,” objected Mrak Delar. “This is why we’re here.”

  “What do you mean, he doesn’t?” hissed the Countess, slowly rising. She leaned toward Mrak Delar, planting her fists on the table. “How could he lose it?”

  “He didn’t lose it, ma’am,” explained Gunz. “It was stolen from him. I was there when it happened, and I still can’t figure out who did it and how.”

  “To make a long story short,” continued Mrak Delar, “your daughter has it now and she’s planning to raise the Lord of Chaos. Tomorrow.”

  “That little bitch,” hissed the old lady slamming her withered hand on the table. “Damned be the day when she clawed her way out of my body.”

  Gunz exchanged a quick look with Karma, catching a shocked expression on her face. The old Countess was swearing like a sailor. The Countess caught their exchange and smirked.

  “Oh, get over yourselves, you two,” she said, waving her hand at them. “You have no idea how hard it is to live a very long life, watching your only child turn into an evil abomination…” She sighed, shaking her head.

  “My lady,” said Mrak Delar, “you spent your life here, in this tiny village, living by Mount Karasova. Is there anything you can tell us that could help us stop your daughter tomorrow?”

  “Just the four of you? That’s all? None of you have any divine powers,” she said, staring at them with widened eyes. “It’s not a good time to be playing jokes on me.”

  “Svyatobor and Semargl will join us tomorrow,” replied Kal. “Do you think a Master of Power, two Great Fire Salamanders, two Slavic deities and a witch, skilled in combat, wouldn’t be enough to stop your daughter?”

  The old lady laughed, her cracked elderly laughter sending chills down Gunz’s spine.

  “Not enough, not even close,” she said coldly. “My daughter is not only a powerful dark mage. She’s clever and resourceful. You’re not going to know what hit you. And by the time you realize that you’ve been fooled, she’ll use the Axe of Perun and the Skiper-Zmey will rule this realm again. Besides, being so close to the Lord of Chaos, she’ll be channeling his dark energy and that would make her as powerful as any old god.

  “Last time it took the power of Perun himself and all the brothers Svarozhich to bind Zmey into the coffin, deep underground. And after that, Stribog, the god of Air and Wind, with his four sons brought sands from the four sides of the Yav and enchanted them, creating Mount Karasova. That’s a lot of divine-power, including major deities like Veles and Chernobog. What makes you think the six of you can do the same?”

  “Nothing,” replied Mrak Delar calmly. “But we have no choice in the matter. It has to be us. There is no one else. So, we’ll fight your daughter and her followers to the death and if we fail, Chernobog will make a stand in the Dark Nav.”

  “Chernobog alone?” asked Countess, looking mortified.

  “No, he is not going to be alone,” replied Mrak Delar. “His wife Morena and Veles are with him. Gwyn ap Nudd, Aodh mac Lir and Death will help them too.”

  “God help us all,” mumbled the old lady, shaking her head. “How did it come to this? Where is Perun?”

  “He doesn’t answer the summons,” answered Kal. “Svyatobor searched the Yav and the Prav, but he couldn’t find him.”

  “Without Perun, how are you planning to wield his Axe to force the Zmey back into his coffin? Only Perun or someone of his bloodline can use the Axe to its full potency. The Axe is the key to breaking the chains and freeing Zmey, so you don’t need the full might of Perun’s magical weapon. But to lock him back in, you’ll need the full power of the Axe.”

  Countess Demidova got up and walked to the window. She pulled the curtain aside and peered at the empty street.

  “You see this village? Every single person who lives here, devoted their lives to keeping the Lord of Chaos in his grave,” she said quietly, tears gathering in her eyes. “Including yours truly. Every single person here is a skilled wizard, witch or mage. We cast and sustained a powerful ‘turn-away’ spell that stops anyone—human or supernatural—from approaching Mount Karasova.

  “Our enchantment covers a huge territory—Mount Karasova and its surrounding area. It takes a lot of magical energy to sustain this spell. I don’t know if you noticed, but there are no photographs or paintings depicting the Mount. The place is known as evil and cursed, and no one in their right mind willingly would go there.

  “The Guardians were maintaining the spell for centuries. It becomes especially challenging when the Skiper-Zmey is about to wake up. It happens every three hundred and three years. And even though we are sustaining our spell, humans still notice that something is going on with the Mount. They swear that the Mount is moving and shifting as if there is a giant who is holding it on his shoulders. They say that the movement of the mountain is a bad omen, predicting something truly devastating.

  “But it’s not the giant that’s moving the mountain. In three hundred and three years, all the evil energy that is harbored by the Lord of Chaos is getting accumulated inside his coffin. When Zmey is ready to be awakened, the evil energy breaks through the enchanted sands, carrying death and destruction to the world of the living.

  “And it will happen tomorrow again. All Guardians are already stationed around the Mount, powering up the spell. Since we know of my daughter’s evil plans, it’s more important than ever to keep humans away from this place.

  “So, the Guardians won’t be able to assist you in your struggle, but they will keep the magical energy you’ll be wielding within the protective circle of their spell, hence protecting the world of magic from exposure and the world of the living from harm. I will go with you to the Mount and make sure that you can safely travel through the protective circle.”

  “Thank you, Countess,” said Mrak Delar for everyone. “We’ll be leaving tomorrow at around three in the afternoon. We want to take our time, observing the area before we jump in headfirst.”

  “My home is your home,” said the Countess, rising.

  Gunz also got up and headed toward the exit door. Kal gave him an arched look, and he stopped at the door. “Just want to get some air,” he said to Kal. “You know, clear my head.”

  Kal nodded and Gunz walked outside. The sky got lighter, but the air was still cold and crispy. He observed the empty street and slowly moved toward the forest, in the direction of Mount Karasova.

  A few minutes later, something hit him between the shoulder blades, and he spun around. Karma was standing just a few feet away, laughing. She quickly caught up with him and grabbed his elbow.

  “I thought I’d keep you company,” she said, lightheartedly. “Make sure that no one would pull on your tail, little lizard.”

  “Really?” asked Gunz with a crooked smirk. “You’re so worried about my safety. Why don’t I believe it?”

  Karma turned away for a moment, permeating discomfort around her. “You’re right.” She sighed. �
��I just don’t feel comfortable around Mrak Delar. He has this heavy stare and every time I catch his black eyes on me, I feel like he is trying to dissect me. And the way he looks. His beauty is eerie… He gives me the heebie-jeebies. Plus, I’ve heard that he’s evil to the bone. The only evil Master of Power in modern days.”

  “That’s priceless, coming from the assassin for hire,” cut Gunz sharply. Realizing that it came out too harsh, he sighed and turned to Karma. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”

  “Why are you apologizing, Zane?” She shrugged and forced a smile, but it was obvious that his words hurt her. “I am an assassin. A gun for hire. Pay me and I don’t really care what I have to do and whom I have to kill.”

  “I’m sorry,” repeated Gunz, gently touching her shoulder. “I don’t believe it to be the truth and I’m sorry my words hurt you. I’m a little on edge and what you said about Mrak pushed me over that edge, I guess.”

  “What? It’s not true?”

  “No, it’s not,” objected Gunz. “Mrak is not evil. He can be ruthless at times, and he’s willing to do whatever it takes to protect the people he loves or to carry on his duty as the Master of Power. But he is not evil. You don’t know him the way I do. He has a complicated past, but he is a knight of the old code.”

  “The noblest Roman of them all?” asked Karma without hiding her sarcasm.

  “Yes, he is. The bravest and the noblest,” replied Gunz seriously, ignoring her subtle comparison of Mrak to Brutus. “And he is madly in love with his wife. He went through hell and back to save her life and to be with her. He was stripped of his magic, enslaved, beaten and forced to his knees, but he still found his way back to her. Even Merlin himself admitted that Mrak is the strongest person he’d ever met.”

  “Merlin is real?” asked Karma, awestricken.

  Gunz chuckled. “And here I thought you knew it all.” Karma pursed her lips, punching him lightly on his shoulder. “Yeah, Merlin is real and there are a lot of other things that are real. Anyway, don’t feel uncomfortable around Mrak. He’s one of the best people I’m lucky to have in my life.”