Offspring (The Sword of the Dragon) (26 page)

BOOK: Offspring (The Sword of the Dragon)
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She recalled speaking with an astronomer on the coast—an astronomer who also wore a monk’s habit. He spent many evenings studying the heavens, and her father had once brought the man home for a visit to share his knowledge with Oganna. That night had been similar to this one—moonless and clear skies. A fireball had burst in the heavens, and she had gasped at the beautiful display.

But the monk frowned. “It is odd.”

She turned to gaze at his face. “What is?”

“Child,” he said, “if something as large as that apparently is exploded in the sky, you would expect to hear an explosion, even if it were only a faint one. Would you not?” He had shaken his head, still staring skyward. “It is as if something keeps the sound from reaching our ears. I wonder—I wonder if the Creator means for us to find out why.”

Oganna sighed at the recollection. The world was beautiful, life was good, and she was content. Beside her an invisible foot left an imprint in the ground, and she slid to the opposite end of the bench. The seat creaked as someone unseen sat down.

“I was impressed with your duel today. It is most incredible how quickly your powers are manifesting themselves.”

“No one is around,” she said at the empty seat. She pleaded with her eyes. “Can you simply talk with me face to face?”

Specter’s hood fell away from his smiling face. He looked down at her and rendered his whole body visible, then stretched his arm along the backside of the bench. “I overheard your conversation with Laura.” His face sobered. “Are you all right?”

With a sigh that told him she was content, she slid next to him and let him put his arm around her shoulders. “Specter—my dear, silent guardian—my mother was blessed to have you watching over her. And now I am as well.”

“Ah, your mother was a wonderful young woman.” He exhaled slowly and gazed at the stars. “Your father was, I truly believe, the luckiest man on Subterran when it came to his wife. She was strong and beautiful—and you are like her.”

“Don’t disappear again for a little while. Please stay with me. You know you are like a second father to me.”

A soft laugh escaped him, and he leaned his scythe over the back of the bench. “More like a long-lost great, great grandfather?”

She smiled up at him and warmth spread through her body upon seeing the softness of his gaze. “Tell me more about my mother. Please?”

INCURSIONS
 

E
ach plod of the creature’s feet sent shivers running down the observer’s spine. His ruined town on the Hemmed Land’s southern border with the desert shook. It was too dark for him to see clearly, but he peeked from concealment. In the middle of the road lined with rubble, he spotted the creature’s enormous form outlined against the horizon stars. As glowing yellow vapors emanated from its nostrils, he trembled.

Sweat built on his forehead. He reached up to wipe it away, but a woman’s scream stopped him. It had been impossible for the people to defend themselves, but apparently the creature hadn’t found everyone. The frantic cry had come from a house by the bridge. Casting off consideration for his own safety, he darted across the bridge and entered the front door. A roar sounded, and in that instant the creature smashed its tail through the wall, turning the house into an impossible maze of fallen beams and broken glass.

Not daring to look through the gaping hole at the creature, he clambered over a broken couch and looked about. The woman was pinned to the floor by a beam. Again the creature roared and spurted flames, setting what remained of the roof ablaze. The woman’s leg, glistening red with blood, protruded from under the wooden rafter. Her face was turning white.

The creature’s hand smashed into the wreckage, sending rubble flying in all directions. The would-be-rescuer moved to cover his face with his arms, but a beam struck him and threw him from the building onto the bridge. Pain shot through his leg. He looked down. A large piece of glass had lodged in his calf, and his blood was pooling on the bridge. He grasped his leg with both hands. Ripping his belt off, he tied it just below his knee. The bleeding slowed, but he knew that unless he received medical attention soon, he would die.

The house walls had fallen outward, as if the creature had pulled them down, and a long, tooth-ridden snout poked over them. The woman screamed again. This time the creature blew a stream of vapors into the house. Its victim’s cries broke off into a spasm of coughing, then ceased. Clenching his fists, the man ground his teeth. The tears streamed down his face. That woman was one of his neighbors, a good friend, and a good soul. Was there no pity in this creature’s heart? Was there no shred of remorse for this senseless murder?

Several enraged townsfolk ran from their hiding places. Unheeding of their own peril, they stabbed pitchforks into the creature’s thick hide. As it continued to pour vapors from its nostrils, their attack faltered. The townsfolk stumbled and fell, and the creature tossed their bodies into the town well.

Remaining out of sight, the man scrambled out of town. Reaching the shelter of the forest, he grasped a tree trunk for support before glancing back to let another tear hide the carnage from his eye.

Through the darkness he stumbled northward until he came to a woodcutter’s secluded home. He beat on the door until it opened. Weakened from loss of blood, he fell forward on the floor. Excruciating pain shot through his body, and he cried out. “Please, send for help.” He could not go on.

The woodcutter and another man came into the room, cleared the table, and lifted him onto it. They tended to his leg and gave him liquor to numb the pain. “That’s the limit of my knowledge,” the woodcutter said. “This man needs a doctor.” He grabbed a lantern and barreled outside.

The man felt weak. He
was
weak. As the door closed, he blacked out. When he awoke, light was coming through a window to his right. He was lying in a comfortable, clean bed, and a woman was dressing his leg.

“You’ve been out for a while,” she said, putting a hand to his forehead. “How do you feel?”

He breathed deeply. “Much better.”

“Good.” She turned away, but he caught her sleeve.

“Must not let that creature get away!” He spoke through clenched teeth. “Send help to my town. People are dead—some might still be alive.”

“Your town?”

“Town of Bordelin.” A wave of exhaustion swept over him, his vision blurred, and he lost consciousness.

 

Ilfedo was at his home enjoying a quiet afternoon when a messenger arrived. “My Lord, I have troubling news from the southern border.” He proceeded to tell of the unidentified creature’s attack on the town of Bordelin. “Several smaller settlements along that stretch of territory were also decimated.” He extended the message toward Ilfedo. “People are panicking. Some have fled the border towns.”

After the courier delivered the sealed dispatch, he left.

Going indoors, Ilfedo sat at the table and opened the letter written on animal skin. Laura and Caritha had been cooking dinner, but they paused and looked at the letter.

“What do you have there?” Laura asked.

“Trouble, likely.” He laid out the skin and read aloud:

 

      To the Lord Warrior:

      Greetings from your faithful subjects. To you be health and prosperity all of your days. May Yimshi shine down with favor on you.

      With high consideration to your many duties, we request your attention to a matter that has presented itself in our midst: A creature of formidable strength has, in a single night, destroyed the town of Bordelin. Many of the town’s inhabitants were slain, but a privileged few escaped the monster’s clutches to tell us their tale.

      All the reports gathered from survivors were consistent, so we sent warriors and hunters to find the creature. They followed its tracks into the southern desert, but none of them has returned, and no word of their whereabouts has been received. We fear that the worst has befallen them and that our lives may also be in danger.

      The survivors have stated that the creature stands on six legs and exhales poisonous vapors from its nostrils. Some say that it breathes fire as well. Reports indicate that the creature’s hide is too thick to be penetrated by a spear and that it stands about ten feet high at the shoulders.

      We are at a loss what to do unless a champion is sent to our aid. Please help us and avenge the innocents whose lives were so brutally taken.

      We are respectfully,

      Your humble subjects of the Hemmed Land’s Southern Border

 

Ilfedo set the letter down, rose, and walked to the fireplace. This was supposed to be his vacation, yet this report was the second he had received today. Earlier he’d read a note given to him by another messenger, that one sent by Ombre.

For the last couple months Ilfedo had received disturbing news of vipers coming out of the northern desert under cover of darkness and poisoning people along the Hemmed Land’s border whilst they slept. A dozen people had died, and he had sent Ombre to assess the situation from the safety of Fort North.

Caritha interrupted his thoughts.

“You look perplexed.” “You might say that. This problem is along the
southern
border, and I already sent word to Ombre that I will meet him at Fort North within the next few days. I need to make certain the Art’en are not behind the viper problem. My previous struggles with them focused on the northern border. If the Art’en have returned, then Ombre will need my help in dealing with them.”

Footsteps alerted him to the other sisters’ presence. Rose’el, Evela, and Levena came from their bedrooms.

“Well, that cuts our vacation short,” Caritha said with a sigh. “Say no more, Ilfedo. We will deal with this situation.”

Rose’el huffed in a very loud manner and placed her hands on her hips. “Like he didn’t know that you would volunteer our services.”

He returned her accusation with a smile. “Whom else can I rely on to truly get the job done? I could send soldiers, but they would not be as efficient. I can’t send the Elite Thousand because they are deployed along the northern border. I can’t send Ombre because he is engaged at Fort North.” He shook his head. “Of course—you don’t have to go.”

Drawing her rusty sword from the fold in her garment, Caritha sobered. “We will reap vengeance on the creature. Its blood will be spilled in payment for the blood it shed.” Her hands glowed, and her sword’s blade gave out a steady reddish light as she spoke.

The others followed her lead. Raising their swords, they formed a circle and touched their blades together in the center before pulling them back with lightning speed. “The five who are one,” Ilfedo murmured. “May your swords execute justice in the Hemmed Land.”

Putting away her sword, Evela cleared her throat then looked at him. “Actually, there is one more whom we would like to add to our party.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Oh?”

“Oganna is ready, Ilfedo. In fact, she can stand among us as an equal.”

The others nodded their approval. Caritha spoke up. “She has the makings of greatness, Ilfedo. Let her come with us.”

“No. To that I will not consent. She is too young.”

“Only in your mind, my brother.” Caritha laid her hand on the table. “Did she not prove herself capable when she bested me?”

He shook his head, determined not to concede the issue. “Continue to train her in your ways, if you must. But do not permit her involvement in potentially lethal situations. When I feel she is ready, I will let you know.”

“You send us into ‘potentially lethal’ situations quite often,” Laura said. He could tell she regretted saying it as soon as the words left her mouth. She apologized and asked his forgiveness.

He waved it aside and put a hand on her shoulder. “I will think on the things you have said, and I am pleased that you hold Oganna in such high esteem. However, I do not believe she is ready. She is too young.”

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