Valley of Embers (The Landkist Saga Book 1) (17 page)

Silently, Linn and Jenk moved to flank him. Nathen was already up and moving, bow clutched in one hand. He moved in front of Linn, and the four of them peered out into the driving rain, Kaya still sleeping soundly behind them.

Jenk glanced at Linn and nodded toward the trees across the way, but she shook her head and then held up a hand. She thought she could see movement, but it was difficult to distinguish branch from limb in the drizzle.

“Larren?”

The four of them whirled, shocked to see Larren standing over a startled Kaya, his face illuminated as the last embers faded in the pit.

“Holspahr,” Jenk said sharply, and the Ember’s head swiveled toward him with a jerking motion that gave Linn the disturbing impression of an owl. She could not fully make out his eyes in the gloom, but she thought she caught a hint of ruby red in the black.

“Jenk?” Kaya said, scrabbling back in the grip of fear, her palms working in the mud, heat going up around her as she panicked.

Larren was working his fingers into fists, clenching and unclenching, his jaw working as he repeated something Linn could not make out.

“What’s he saying?” she asked in horrified fascination as Baas tensed.

“Run,” Nathen said.

And the night came alive behind them.

It was a wonder Linn was not killed immediately as the forest came in after them. If not for the shocking speed of Baas, she surely would have. He met the charge of the shadows with his great shield and greater chest, shattering one against the cavern wall and launching the other into the mud as he went.

Jenk’s sword ignited, throwing the whole scene into chaos as he advanced on Larren. Linn ducked under a slashing arm and came up next to Nathen, knife in hand. He launched a shaft point-blank into her attacker and she took the next to the ground in a tackle, stabbing in a fury, thunder crashing with renewed gusto as she spilled out of the wide cave mouth and into the storm.

But for the orange glow of Jenk’s sword, the only light came in the form of intermittent lightning and the flashing moon it made of Baas’s shield, which rose and fell, swept and punched as the Riverman forged out ahead of her under a tangle of black limbs. It was impossible to tell how many assailed them, and the only intelligible sound above the din was Jenk’s increasingly desperate voice as he tried to shout sense into Larren.

Linn realized her knife had done all the work it could—she was stabbing the mud now—so she stood on wavering legs and whirled toward the cave mouth. Larren loomed over Kaya, Everwood spear held aloft to set the whole chamber awash in the amber glow. His face was lost in shadow, but Linn thought she could see a wolf’s grin. He took a step forward and Jenk did likewise, lit blade angled while Nathen’s bow twanged as he tried to keep the beasts from flanking Baas.

The force of the Embers’ clash sent a shockwave of heat and flaming trails that had Linn and Nathen diving to the mud. When Linn got to her knees, she saw the thing that was no longer Larren forcing Jenk back with sweeping arcs, gouts of flame flashing every which way that had the younger Ember blinded. Larren forced Jenk to duck a vicious swipe, planted one heel in the mud and spun, planting the other square into Jenk’s chest and launching him out into the storm. Jenk came up spinning and slashing as the shadows fell on him.

“Back!” Kaya screamed, grasping wildly. She snatched the butt of her staff and dragged it toward her, its ignition stealing what was left of the air in the narrow confines and making it impossible for Linn to cross the threshold.

All the while Larren advanced, eyes glowing blood red and teeth bone-white.

“Ve’Ran!”

Linn spun to see Jenk being forced back under a surging press, his boots slipping in the slush. Dark forms lay smoldering at his feet, wounds still glowing. She brandished her knife and sped toward him, taking the first shadow in the neck, blood that seemed as black as the rest of it coursing out and making her hand slick. The second spun on her with a snarl and Jenk cut it down in a glowing streak that had her seeing stars.

A roar to her back drew Linn’s attention. Baas warred with a pack of them, each flailing form the Riverman threw replaced by another. One clung to his broad back, claws rending through leather like paper and scouring deep gouges. Baas sprinted toward the tree line and spun, hurling his back at an oak trunk with a crack that rivaled the storm’s latest retort.

“Baas!”

Jenk was screaming, but the Riverman was in a rage and beyond listening.

“Ve’Ran, tell him to go to Kaya!”

Linn exhaled and charged into the driving rain. She came up in front of the panting Rockbled, who now stood alone, waiting for the next pack to detach itself from the forest. He noted her presence and focused on her, pupils dilated, blood flowing from wounds that went from brow to neck.

“Jenk will hold them here, Taldis. Kaya needs you. Now!”

Even as she spoke, the Ember dashed in front of them and met the charge of the newest shadows. One went down under his fiery attack and one of Nathen’s shafts took the other in the chest, Linn finishing it off as it writhed in the muck. Baas charged toward the cave mouth and Linn followed.

A high-pitched scream echoed into the night and a form hurtled past them. Nathen tumbled and rolled unceremoniously in the mud. Linn spared a backward glance as she ran and took heart that the hunter was already trying to gain his feet. When she turned back, she nearly ran headlong into the wall formed by Baas’s back.

Linn skittered to the side and froze. The cave was dimmer than it had been when the Embers clashed, but fires ate hungrily at the cavern walls. Larren stood in the center of the cave, the twisted form of Kaya Ferrahl beneath his boot. If he noted their presence, he made no move to show it, nor did he seem particularly distressed about the arrow sticking out of his shoulder, its feathers blackened and curled by the heat. His red eyes roved over the corpse of the young Ember at his feet like a lizard, her fair skin taking on a macabre glow.

Some part of Linn worked to reject the scene before her; it was the same part that had denied the death of her parents in those early dark days. But the rest of her, that which was fire-forged even if she lacked Ember blood let it all in and fanned the smoldering coals into a fresh blaze.

Kaya Ferrahl was dead. A demon had killed her, just as it had killed Larren Holspahr before her. And they had harbored it, wrapped it in covers and brought it warmth and trust, offering themselves up as lambs to the slaughter. The Sentinel before them wielded the heat of an Ember, but it was no less cold than the black ghouls at her back.

A similar sort of cold enveloped Linn now. It numbed her. It was the feeling of steel shining in starlight, of being perched on an arrowhead.

She was in a killing way.

“You must go.”

Baas, in the grips of rage just moments before, now spoke with an eerie calm. The hawk’s eyes of the corrupted Ember darted up and took them in, sized them up.

“Go,” he said again, more insistent this time. But Linn’s hands were closed into steely fists. She scanned the cave and noted Nathen’s bow close at hand, his spent arrows strewn in the mud.

She looked back, and her icy resolve shattered when the thing that bore Larren’s face smiled at her, white teeth shining like a ghost. She heard a low growl and traced it to the deepest parts of Baas’s chest. His boulder of a body tensed, blood flowing freely from his many wounds.

The Sentinel, seemingly amused, leaned its weight more fully onto Kaya’s lifeless form, sending up an audible crunch that resounded off of the close walls and low ceiling. Linn knew she would hear that sound in her dreams for the rest of her life, but the animal roar of Baas Taldis quickly rose to supplant it in the moment.

The Riverman charged, covering the distance between him and the Sentinel in a leaping stride as Linn dove for Nathen’s bow. Sure-handed, she snatched it in a roll and came up with a feathered shaft nocked. She cursed, heart pounding as she fought to train the missile onto Larren’s lean form as it grappled with Baas. Even possessed of whatever supernatural strength it was, the Sentinel was giving ground, white teeth gleaming as it fought for purchase, spear igniting and setting Baas’s shield to glow as the weapons came together in a shower of sparks.

Baas’s shield protected him from the worst of the flames, but Linn worried about that Everwood blade. The Rockbled were only impervious to weapons made of metal, one of the major reasons they had fallen in numbers against the Landkist among the Emberfolk generations before.

Suddenly, the Sentinel withdrew from the press and Baas stumbled forward as the flaming spear slashed low, cutting deep into one thigh and sending the Riverman stumbling. Linn saw her opportunity and seized it, bowstring humming. The Sentinel saw the shaft at the last moment and Linn was shot back out into the rain as the chamber erupted into an inferno.

Nathen pulled her up and she peered into the cave, seeing the Sentinel and its spear silhouetted in the blaze. Her arrow had found its mark, but the missile had already burned up, the wound on Larren’s chest now a smoldering scab. Those red eyes flashed her way and her hands worked of their own accord as she fell to one knee. Arrows lanced into the cave, most batted aside from the whirling wall of flame put out by the Everwood spear, but several found their marks, and Linn saw Baas’s shield glowing white hot as the Riverman charged in from the back of the chamber.

Baas was a roaring comet. He collided with the Sentinel shield-first and slammed it into the wall, stone breaking off on the impact. The Sentinel snarled and turned the flames on him, but the Riverman would not be cowed.

“Go!” Baas screamed as he brought the rim of his shield up to shatter the Sentinel’s nose. They battled in a pocket of hell, and just when Linn thought Baas was caught dead to rights, he punched the wall of the cave itself and the earth responded, sending a crumbling spur to pin Larren’s foot in place. Now it was forced to stand and fight, and the spear sent a torrent of fire at the glowing shield, Baas growling behind it.

“Go!”

Nathen snatched her by the wrist and they ran, the animal hisses of the shadow men mixing with the steady patter of rain. The brilliant light of Jenk’s blade stood out in the woods. He had been forced away from them and Linn saw the fire’s dance slow, the yellow trails growing sluggish.

They broke into the clearing and Nathen was forced to fall to his back as Jenk’s blade found new life, shooting toward him with deadly intent.

“We need to go!” Linn shouted over the storm as the branches clashed above them.

Jenk was panting. His face was pale, skin hissing and sending up steam that mixed with the smoke emanating from the burned bodies at his feet. More shadows raced through the trees, timbers cracking and bending as they approached.

The Ember nodded and ran in the opposite direction, Linn and Nathen following the bouncing glow of his blade as they lost the moon to the clouds and canopy. Jenk yelped as his blade was extinguished with a splash, but they could not slow, so Linn let out a shout of her own as they broke through the brush and crashed into the fast-flowing swamp.

They paddled and Linn lost sight and feel of the others. Her strength flagged, and that was when she realized how strong the pull was, dragging her unerringly forward. A great shelf of jagged stone loomed ahead, breaking from the canopy and standing vigil like a silent titan. She heard the screams ahead, and then the darkness took her in a rush as the mud beneath her boots gave way to open air.

T
he rain had relented, fading for the first time since they had set out. Occasional cracks of thunder still punctuated the sky to the north, but on the borders of Last Lake, all was quiet.

Shifa splashed into the stream, lapping at the cold water before crossing to the opposite bank, and Kole followed. He held his boots in one hand and closed his eyes as his bare feet hissed upon contact with the flowing water. He felt the steam rise, tickling the hair on his shins, enjoying the battle his body fought with the cold for equilibrium. It was a battle he knew the water would eventually win.

The hound barked and he waded across with a sigh. Taei and Fihn should be near. The fact that he could not hear them was only a testament to their uncanny woodlore. Normally, the forest would be teaming with game, with birds and beasts of every persuasion lending their voices to the canopy, but not now. Now it was as silent as it was during the deepest parts of the Dark Months.

Kole found a moss-covered boulder and climbed it, settling at the top. He patted the spot next to him and Shifa hopped up, her pack rattling as she did. Kole checked it, ensuring the pitched arrows were wrapped and secure before pulling the map out of a pocket in the leather. The twins claimed to know every inch of the Southern Valley. Kole did not doubt them, but Tu’Ren would not let them leave without the parchment, so he had taken it.

The guilt at having left the Lake still gnawed at him, but it was a distant thing when compared to the need that drove him on—the need to find Linn, and the need to reach the peaks. Kole knew the defenses would hold. Tu’Ren had assured him, but there was no telling how long. If Hearth was besieged to the degree Ninyeva said, then Last Lake would be next.