Secrets of the Stonechaser (The Law of Eight Book 1) (38 page)

Nerris realized he was right. In spite of getting captured by Qabala, their journey had not been hindered at all. Indeed, she had unwittingly taken them closer to their next destination. “All right, now we know what we have to do. Surnal, you said anyone with the desire can be a Stonechaser, correct?”

“Anyone can make the journey,” Surnal said. “Fate will weed out those who cannot forge on.”

“I probably don’t need to say it, but I intend to go with you,” Nerris said. “Len-Ahl is my friend, and I will see her safely to the end of the Xenea Dolchin.” He looked at Dist and Jhareth.

“This is our battle too,” Jhareth said. “Qabala has seen to that. We’re coming as well.”

“I can speak for myself, Jhareth,” Dist said.

“Well, you’re going, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but let me say it. You’re not my keeper.”

“Oh? What am I, then?”

“Annoying.”

Nerris smiled at their needling. He had always been able to count on his friends, and now, when so much was at stake, nothing had changed. He found himself touched, not for the first time, by Dist and Jhareth’s willingness to put it all on the line for a cause they did not fully understand but knew was right. Surnal’s skills in the healing arts would be most welcome on their journey as well, and Nerris was surprised at how quickly he had grown attached to the middling Nateus.

At last, his gaze turned to Len-Ahl. She smiled as well, but this was a first. Len-Ahl smiled much, and her smiles meant different things. This one wasn’t wan or comforting or even glad. Her smile held hope, and shined over them brighter than any sun, jungle or otherwise.

Thank you for reading!

Every time you leave a review, it helps out the author. Please take a few moments to
write a review on Amazon
!

New Book Notification

Sign up to be notified of new releases from Nicholas Andrews!

Like and Follow:

Nicholas Andrews on Facebook

Nicholas Andrews on Twitter

Also By Nicholas Andrews

THE
 
ADVENTURERS

Book One: 
The Adventure Tournament

Book Two: 
Babyface Fire

Book Three:  Crown Princess*

THE LAW OF EIGHT

Book One: 
Secrets of the Stonechaser

Book Two: 
Follow the Faery Footpath

SERIALS

The Thrillseekers:  Cadets of Gauntlet
±

* Forthcoming, titles subject to change

± Ongoing

The Journey Begins!

Enjoy a preview of the next book in the Law of Eight

FOLLOW THE FAERY FOOTPATH

Coming in 2014!

Sample Chapter

THE SUMMER SUN glistened on the water, reflecting a visage, a mirror image of the surrounding mountain peaks. Salty wind blew inland from the Gulf of Lesta, though they were too far away from the coast for Nerris to hear the waves breaking. The shrieking of gulls mixed with the singing of land birds, each expressing its own avian aria of noise. To the south stood the city of Lesta, a pall of thin smoke hanging over it.

The lake before Nerris and Len-Ahl was quiet, uninhabited by human life. They walked toward the shoreline along a stream which fed into the gulf, following it to its source. Len-Ahl led him across at one point, hopping from boulder to boulder to reach the opposite bank. Nerris’s boots echoed off the rocks like claps of thunder, but Len-Ahl made nary a sound as she lithely leapt between the stones. Nerris wondered if she knew where she was going. She had heard of this lake from Prince Lahnel, and had been pestering Nerris to take her here ever since.

Nerris had not been sure what to expect when Prince Lahnel arrived back at Y’Ghan Palace. Word had it he had been soundly defeated by Dume Valez before he could reach his people at Hesmuth. It was a couple of days before the prince, the son of the king Nerris had assassinated eight months before, requested his presence.

Nateus Surnal escorted Nerris, Dist, Jhareth, and Len-Ahl to the great hall, a modest but airy throne room with enough windows to brighten it with natural light. Prince Lahnel had not arrived yet, but that gave them time to take in their surroundings.

The room held a great menagerie of life within its space. At either end were two stone ponds, filled with water piped in from the outside. Jungle ferns and other plants suited to the warm climate grew out of islands in the middle. Caged off areas held exotic animals from southern Tormalia and northern Egkari. Wire-tailed monkeys shrieked at them as they passed, hanging from vines. A orange-and-black striped tiger lounged in another cage, basking in the sunlight.

“How pretty!” Len-Ahl said, approaching a cage containing a large, multi-colored bird.

“That’s a parrot,” Nerris said. “We saw them once during an expedition to the Sicorian Mountains.”

“Hello,” Len-Ahl called to it.

“Hello,”
the parrot called back in a croaky voice.

Len-Ahl laughed. “It talks too?”

“Not really,” Jhareth said. “They just imitate sounds they hear.” He stepped close to the cage. “How are you?” he asked.

“How are you?”
the parrot replied.

“I’m fine.”

“I’m fine.”

“Dist is a dunce!”

“Dist is a dunce!”

Jhareth smiled and continued toward the throne. Dist glared at him, and nudged Nerris.

“I don’t like this,” he said. “After what you did to his father, we may not be any better off than we were in Qabala’s dungeons. We should have left days ago.”

“Prince Lahnel’s men saved our hides,” Nerris said. “The least we can do is hear him out.”

“His Highness is not like Qabala, Dist,” Surnal said. “He understands who Len-Ahl is, and what she seeks. Whatever his personal feelings may be, he certainly sees the advantages of having the Thrillseekers on his side.”

“And if he decides to take vengeance on Nerris?” Dist said. “His father was assassinated, Nateus. Do you know what I’d do to the man who did that to my own father?”

“Have him murdered in turn, no doubt.” Their heads all whipped around to focus on the black-haired figure on the dais, who had entered from an adjacent chamber. “Beaten and slaughtered, impaled and burned, garroted and executed.” He smiled. “Or something to that effect?”

Nerris had heard the last scion of House Y’Ghan described often enough to recognize him. He judged the prince in his early thirties, and his shoulder-length hair was tied behind the fine but weary features of his face. He didn’t much resemble King Lahnen; Lahnel was slender instead of husky, clean-shaven whereas his father had sported a full beard.

Prince Lahnel Y’Ghan descended the dais to greet them. He first went to his old friend Surnal, who he caught in a fierce embrace. “I thought you lost forever when you set yourself on that fool’s task, Nateus.”

“A mere leap of faith, your Highness,” Surnal said. “I’m afraid I’ll be around to nuisance you a bit longer.”

Lahnel clasped hands with Dist and Jhareth next. “I cannot tell you how much of an honor it is to meet the Thrillseekers at last. I have been hearing tales of you three at every ball and state dinner for about ten years now.”

“They normally talk about us in taverns and brothels,” Jhareth said. “I suppose we’re moving up in the world.”

Lahnel chuckled and swept up Len-Ahl’s hand as she offered it, kissing her fingers. “You must be the Stonechaser I have heard so much about. To think someone this lovely has been through all you have motivates me to ever higher righteousness in this struggle I face. Were you not burdened by the terrible task before you, I would gladly keep you by my side so your face might brighten even my darkest hours.”

Len-Ahl giggled, and Nerris rolled his eyes. Finally, the prince approached him. “Nerris Palada. I have heard many stories about your role in this conflict. I would like to think these rumors just that, but they come from some very reputable sources. Nothing would make me gladder than for them to be in error, yet I fear they are not. Please, tell me.”

Nerris cleared his throat. Now was the moment of truth. He owed the prince that much. “I’m afraid your sources are very good at their job, your Highness. Last autumn, I was a mercenary in the employ of Lady Qabala. When she found out who I was, a task fell to me. I was to go with several of my fellows to the Aeternica and end the life of King Lahnen.”

“And you certainly succeeded,” Lahnel said. He ascended the dais and sat on his throne. “Do not misunderstand me, Nerris. I have no great respect for what you did. I understand you were a soldier, following an order. Having commanded myself, I can appreciate that. Nor did I have much love for his Majesty. You may not have known this, but we quarreled on many state matters, quite fiercely, and if Qabala had not rebelled, I would have eventually. Yet despite the crown he wore, King Lahnen was also a man. My father. As honorable as I have heard the Thrillseekers to be, I wonder what would drive you to commit such an act, to make an exception, in this sole case.”

“It’s difficult to know where to begin,” Nerris said. “As you know, your Highness, it was an act committed by me. I had been separated from Dist and Jhareth for three years, and though I had help getting into the Aeternica, the death of your father rests on my shoulders alone.”

Lahnel nodded. “We know of the traitor Lukas Kord. But who were the others who went with you?”

“Chalis and Mikaren were two of Qabala’s finest men,” Nerris said. “Very good and dependable, yet disposable. They died honorably shortly thereafter. The man who led us I knew then as Rade. He now serves as one of Qabala’s Dume-Generals under his real name: Yorne Radenos Regnak.”

Lahnel chuckled. “The old man finally did it.”

“Your Highness?” Surnal asked.

“Dume Yorne was a protector of King Kolmat, my second cousin,” Lahnel said. “When he died, Yorne blamed my father. Not that I would put it past him to murder his own blood, but Yorne was rather vehement in implicating his Majesty. Dume Yorne left Palehorse the next day, leaving behind a note that said he swore to one day bring down King Lahnen. It looks like he succeeded. But I digress. Please continue, Nerris.”

“I was in a bad place in my life,” Nerris said, being as vague as possible. Some secrets were his own, and the prince did not need to know about Ketsuya. “As a mercenary, I lived an inch away from death every single day, yet I kept on living. I was not ordered to kill your father; I volunteered for it. I did not expect to survive, even if I was successful. I was looking for a place to die.”

“And how do you feel about this now?” Lahnel asked. “Do you seek forgiveness for what you did?”

Nerris shook his head. “I expect no forgiveness from you, your Highness, nor do I seek it. Beg your pardon, but though he was your father, King Lahnen was also a petty tyrant and no doubt deserved his fate. Whether I was right or wrong in passing judgment is not for me to say. Do I feel remorse? Yes. I do not relish in the act of killing, no matter how flippant the bawdy stories about the Thrillseekers make it. But if you expect me to stand here and beg forgiveness, you will not have it of me. I will, however, accept responsibility for the assassination of King Lahnen Y’Ghan and allow you to pass judgment yourself, if that is what you wish.”

Prince Lahnel regarded him for a few moments, his face unreadable. Finally, he said, “Fear not, Nerris Palada. I have no wish to punish you for your act. Family honor would normally have me demand satisfaction from you, but I am fully aware you are a Thrillseeker. As I am sure your friends would attest, were we to battle, you would no doubt chop me into little princelets.” Dist and Jhareth chuckled at that, and Lahnel smiled. “I am not sure I can ever give you my friendship, Nerris, but I can give you my respect. To stand here, head held high, in my power, and accept responsibility for such an act is the stuff of nobility I would expect from a Thrillseeker.”

Nerris kept himself stoic. That had been a little too easy. “Thank you, your Highness.”

“Unfortunately, my father’s death, my position at the time, and Qabala’s victory at Ryvetsk turned the war in a most unfavorable direction. I stand here now all but beaten. My force at Hesmuth has been dismantled. The only noble allies left to me, the Bosmicks of Kallov, are no more. My own forces were soundly defeated by Dume Valez, and no doubt Queen Qabala will be knocking on the gates of Lesta soon.” His gaze turned to Len-Ahl. “Yet hope stands before me even now. From what I hear, you will set out together, follow the Faery Footpath and claim the Exemplus so Qabala might be brought down and the one known as the Destroyer banished forever.”

“Yes, your Highness,” Surnal said. “But I fear for your safety. We have no way of knowing how long our journey will be, and only Lesta now stands between Qabala and total domination of Yagolhan.”

“The city is sturdy enough,” Lahnel said. “As I said before, I have known for a long time I would have to overthrow my own father. I have spent years fortifying the walls and setting up emergency supply routes by land and sea. Holed up here, we can continue to frustrate Qabala for years. However, with no allies left, it is my responsibility to seek aid elsewhere. Might I ask a boon?” he said to Nerris.

“Of course,” Nerris said. It would come now. After what he said, Nerris could scarcely refuse him anything, though he knew it was dangerous to accept a favor without first knowing its nature.

“My kingdom is on the brink of darkness,” he said. “If no help is to be found within, I must look without. Surnal tells me you plan to go to Raddoni to look for the Pentacle of Judgment and then off to wherever the next beacon lies. I would accompany you as far as Inya. I will go on to the meeting of the Kolmian Alliance in Syrutim to beg the help of the rulers of eastern Tormalia.”

Nerris, Dist, and Jhareth looked at each other with dismay. With all that had been happening, they had forgotten about their promise to attend the annual midsummer Council.

“Your Highness,” Surnal said, “there is no Yagol seat on the Council.”

“Yet the invitation was never rescinded,” Lahnel said. “My father declined to take part. He did not like anyone else having a say in how he ran his kingdom. But the Alliance was named after King Kolmat. I would take up his seat and beg the help of the eastern nations, if that is what it takes.” He looked to Nerris. “The Thrillseekers’ friendships with King Maerlos and King Owen is widely known. Do you believe they would be predisposed to help my poor country?”

Nerris gritted his teeth. There was no easy answer to that, nor did he wish to speak for Maerlos or Owen. “It is hard to say, your Highness. Neither man will have forgotten you are kin to Yahd the Enslaver, no matter how many years have passed since his war.”

“My choices are few,” Lahnel said. “Surely they will see a Yagolhan unified under Qabala poses a more immediate threat to the east.”

Nerris kept silent. Depending on how strong Congir’s grip on Faerna had become, King Maerlos might not even remember his own name anymore. “If you think it best to accompany us to Inya, your Highness, I cannot stop you. You surely know what is best for your own people.”

Lahnel nodded. “Accompany you I shall. I promise you, while in my company you will not want for luxury. Thank you. One more piece of business before I let you all get back to enjoying your day.” He snapped his fingers and a guard came forth, bearing a wooden case. “Len-Ahl, would you please step forward?”

Len-Ahl hesitated out of surprise, but approached the prince, stopping a few steps from the dais. Lahnel opened the case and drew out something slender. Gripping it in both hands, he descended to stand before Len-Ahl and gave her the object. Nerris now saw it was a fipple flute, carved from a dark-colored wood.

The half-faery gaped at it. She had not had a flute since Falares had taken them captive in northern Yagolhan over a month before. Len-Ahl worked her magic through music. It was her connection to the Faery Realm her mother had belonged to, and Nerris felt a slight surge when Len-Ahl took hold of the instrument.

“How did you know?” she asked the prince.

“I am told you have visions in your dreams, Len-Ahl,” Lahnel said. “I recently had a vivid dream as well. There is someone who requests your presence not far from here. She said the Stonechaser and the Catalyst are to go to the nameless lake north of the city, where she will reveal certain truths to you. When you get there, play the song your heart tells you to play, and she will appear.”

“Who?” Len-Ahl asked.

“She did not name herself,” Lahnel said. “I have my suspicions, but I had best leave it at that. Better you find out for yourself, I am sure. Do not delay in this matter, for I intend we leave for Inya soon. I must reach Syrutim by midsummer.”