The Chronicles of Lumineia: Book 01 - Elseerian (38 page)

The precious moments to save her had a price, and two more elves paid it, leaving Ren, Denithir, and only one more elven soldier still fighting. For one breathless moment it looked like they might be able to hold their own, until Death smashed the shaft of his weapon into the last soldier’s chest so hard you could hear bone snap. A split second later the soldier’s lifeless body tumbled into the gorge.

Ren screamed in anger, "Captain, go! I will hold him off." His daggers were a blur of defensive moves as he stepped in front of his captain to forestall any protest. Denithir hesitated, but understood the situation clearly. Roaring in frustration, he turned and sprinted towards the fallen tree. Leaping onto it, he barely slowed as he raced across. Before he reached the middle, Ren finally went down under the spinning scythe, never to rise again.

The thump of his body hitting the ground sent chills of agony down Taryn’s spine, but his heart rent in two as he spotted a glittering object rolling under him. Knocked loose by Ren’s fall the memory orb bounced by, the image of the now fatherless babe smiling sadly up at him. The open blue eyes burned into his, forging an indelible image in his mind as the orb sailed into the ravine and plunged out of sight.

Never had he felt such anger at another creature, and the desire to plunge his blade deep into the assassin’s body coursed through him, lancing across his heart and mind like a delirious fever. As clear as the midday sun, he recognized in that moment what Murai had tried to tell him. Destroying such evil would save countless lives—but in that moment he was powerless to move.

Denithir hadn’t crossed yet.

Roaring against his rage and helplessness, Taryn could only stand fast to ensure the elf captains’ survival. Rooted in place, he was left to wait for Death to finish him, knowing the seconds it took for the elven captain to reach the other side were more than enough time for the assassin to get to him.

Death sped towards his helpless form, scythe rising for the killing blow—but an arrow streaked across the expanse and he paused to block it. Arrow after arrow flew towards him, so fast it actually forced him to retreat as the scythe whirled defensively. Earth rose up on all sides to smash into him and wind forced him even further back, showing Siarra had joined the fight.

The reinforcements granted him a tiny window of opportunity, and the idea of vengeance flashed red across his vision—but then he saw his friends. He couldn’t leave them alone, and if he failed, they would certainly be slain. Liri’s fierce expression as she launched missiles calmed his wrath enough for him to make the smart choice.

He had to get across the ravine.

Knowing he had only a few precious moments before Death slipped past the attacks and killed him, Taryn anchored his toes into the rock, gathered every ounce of strength he possessed, and pushed against the tree. Straining and roaring, he poured his fury into his muscles, and rolled the log far enough back to buy himself some time. In an instant, he leapt onto the log and sprinted across the tree at the same time it began to roll underneath him.

Before he’d gone half a step he felt a tug as the evil scythe tore his cloak from his body, but he never stopped to look back. Five feet from the midpoint, the log rolled into space and began to fall, taking him with it.

Gritting his teeth, he leapt forward and grabbed the lateral branch. Using it to gain momentum, he yanked on it and desperately threw himself upward. As the makeshift bridge plummeted into the ravine, he sailed through the air towards his friends and safety—but began falling
just
short of their outstretched hands.

Picking up speed, he did the only thing he could think of. In a flash he drew Mazer and plunged it into the stone in front of him. Blue magic flared as it cut through the vertical rock. For twenty feet Taryn fell before he extinguished the magic and the sword stopped, brutally slamming him into the wall. Wincing, he grimly held on.

Below him a sudden
snap
echoed up the canyon when the long tree bounced off a wall and split in two. Looking down, Taryn watched the massive pieces of deadwood continue to bounce off the walls of the canyon as they plummeted downward. Breaking apart from the force, they smashed into the rocks below with a tremendous crash that reverberated upward, sending a tremor through the stone.

Taryn closed his eyes and sighed in relief that he hadn't been with it. Not ten seconds later a rope unrolled itself beside him. Letting go of the sword with one hand he grabbed the cord and withdrew Mazer from the smoking gouge it had left. Before he could begin to scale the rope, he felt it being pulled up, and in seconds his tired form was brought to safety over the edge.

Liri crushed him in an embrace. "Are you OK?" she whispered into his ear, her throat tight.

He blew out his breath, still feeling the rush of anger and frustration pounding in his ears. "No, but I will be," he said, his eyes drawn to the still forms on the other side of the ravine.

Other worried faces appeared in view: Denithir, Siarra . . . and
Jack Myst
? Taryn thought the lightning movement had been familiar, but he couldn’t imagine where Jack had come from or why he would help save them.

The thief interpreted his expression correctly. "Happened to be passing through and couldn’t let a beautiful girl fall to her death, now could I?"

Siarra hit the thief on the shoulder, but he ignored her blow and rolled his eyes, "OK, OK, not passing by; I followed you."

Taryn reluctantly let go of Liri and looked across the gorge in time to see Death melting into the long shadows cast by the setting sun.

Jack sniffed. "I don't think he likes you guys."

"Ya think?" Siarra replied, and then turned to face him with her hands on her hips. “I appreciate your saving me but in the two minutes since I have known you, you have just been annoying.”

The thief smirked at her expression and Taryn wondered what he had said to her when he saved her.

"Hey, if he comes again, I'll hold you if you get scared," the thief said with his arms out wide.

Siarra’s expression turned murderous, but Denithir put up a hand to forestall her next comment. "Stop," he said, still out of breath. "We must leave."

"He's not going to give up . . . .is he?" Liri said to herself, but everyone heard.

Taryn stood and wished he knew a better way to comfort her. "We'll be fine, Liri. Don't worry.” Even to himself his voice sounded doubtful.

Denithir muttered something beside them that sounded like a prayer, and as Taryn looked at those that had paid the price for their survival, he felt the dread in his heart, and wondered if they should all be praying.

Or if that could even help.

Chapter 24: Life and Death

Taryn's eyes snapped open the moment Denithir touched his shoulder. In an instant he was on his feet with his sword half drawn.

"Easy," the elven captain said. "You only slept for an hour and I hope it was enough. It's almost dusk."

Taryn nodded and gathered his things. They had pushed themselves through the night and into the early afternoon before they collapsed from exhaustion. Taryn had kept the first watch, but Denithir had relieved him so he could get at least some rest. Rubbing his head he tried to ignore the growing headache from the lack of sleep. It had been nearly sixty hours of running and fighting and he could feel his body protesting.  

Liri strapped on her longbow beside him. "Now what?" she asked seriously. "He is going to come after us tonight, right?"

"Without question,” Siarra said with a frown. “I come of age tomorrow, and he has to kill me before then." She hesitated, and then added, "He will find us, and I don’t think he will give up until we are all destroyed."

Jack Myst spoke up. "Why don't we just kill the bugger?"

Siarra growled and looked at him. "What are you even doing here? You saved me. I said thank you. Now you are free to go. Why would you choose to die with us?"

"I'm just here for the adventure." He grinned and spread his arms out wide. "And something tells me this group will have plenty."

The Oracle stared him down until his grin started to fade. When she spoke, her voice was dangerously soft. "Do you feel the fear?"

The thief's arms slowly dropped to his sides and the remainder of his smile evaporated. "Of course I feel it. It's everywhere."

She nodded at him. "The
source
of that fear is what is hunting us."

"What?" Taryn blinked, swiveling to stare at her.

She looked at him. "This assassin spawns this unholy fear, and he has been spreading terror for a while. It has taken time, but by now it has seeped into
every
heart of
every
person throughout the five kingdoms, although it is worst in the east, where it began."

"
Why
?" Denithir asked, his voice crackling with desperation. "Who is he and where does he come from?"

"I don't know." Her head dropped slightly as she answered. Taryn could sense her frustration that she didn’t know the answer. "I can just feel evil and fear growing in the eastern kingdom. I don't know its nature or source. The only other thing I can tell you is that this is only the beginning. He has been sent to weaken resistance for whoever, or
whatever
, sent him—"

"Wait." Liri raised a hand. "There is more than just him?"

Siarra nodded. "Something is gathering an incredibly powerful force. Whoever is doing it sent him to kill us, and others, before we could fight back. Not only does he kill strong leaders, he also spreads terror to separate and blind people."

"So even if we beat Death, we still have to contend with whoever sent him—which is probably worse," Denithir stated, struggling to keep the mounting fear out of his voice.

Siarra looked away and her voice became as cold as ice. "I believe far worse than we can imagine."

Deafening silence echoed around them for several moments until Denithir growled and visibly shook himself. "Enough. We are not facing who sent him; we are facing him. Let's focus on that and hopefully we will learn more after Siarra comes of age."

"—And that won't happen until
after
he kills us . . . correct?" Jack said acidly.

Denithir glowered at him. "You may leave at any moment." He made it sound like a command, but the thief ignored him.

"I think I will stick around." He seemed about to say more but his eyes flicked to Siarra and he closed his mouth with a click.

Liri nudged Taryn, and he understood her thoughts with a glance at her expression. She knew there was something else the thief wasn't saying, and that something had pushed him to risk his life. Before he could wonder what it was, the Oracle cut in.

"We don't have time for this," she exclaimed. "We cannot outrun him, we
will
have to fight. I suggest we choose our battleground rather than push ourselves throughout the night again and then face him weary and unprepared."

Denithir nodded in agreement, glancing at the setting sun. "We have an hour then. Let's find somewhere to make our stand."

Without waiting for a response, he stepped out of their small camp and strode off to the west. Taryn and the others were quick to fall into line behind him. For several minutes no one spoke while they trudged along a game trail in the foothills south of the Blue Lake, each of them searching for a defensible location.

Despite the grim outlook, Taryn felt eager to continue his conversation with Siarra, but the prevailing mood didn’t seem like the right time.
Although there might not be a later,
he thought darkly. Forcing the discouraging thought aside, he looked south. The ground rose and fell in gentle hills that provided little cover. Trees grew in scattered groves in many locations, but few seemed a suitable spot to fight. North, the ground sloped down to a beach on the Blue Lake. Trees stood tall and thick close to the lake but he didn’t like the idea of having water at his back.

Darkness continued to deepen and the sun turned a brilliant orange as it began to set, casting long shadows around them. Rather than peaceful, the deepening darkness left an increasing feeling of panic growing within him—and left more and more places for a killer to hide.

"Perhaps among the trees?" Denithir said, but his voice held no hope and no one responded.

A few minutes later Taryn began to think the trees along the shore would be their only option as the last streaks of light began to fade, but just as full darkness fell, his keen eyes caught a glimpse of something to the south.

"There," he said, pointing to indicate the direction.

"What did you see?" Denithir asked, tense and ready.

"Just before the light disappeared, I saw a place we might be able to hole up in."

Siarra cut off the elven captain’s response. "Lead the way, quickly."

Taryn took the lead and leapt off the trail into the sparse vegetation. Glancing up, he saw clouds moving to cover the moon, blocking out the little light he had to guide him. Slipping through the trees by memory, he hurried to lead them to what he'd seen, hoping it was there. Approaching the steep rise to a small mountain, he rounded some rocks and came to what he'd seen—a small stream. Over centuries it had cut a path through the rock, leaving a thin corridor into a thirty-foot cliff.

Without stopping, he turned upriver and followed the bank as it wound into the stone crevasse. A small amount of light fell from thirty feet above where the gap opened to the sky, and smooth rock rose up on either side of them, so close you could touch both sides at the same time. Taryn plunged his boots into the cool water as the pathway tightened, but he continued to press forward.

Someone started to protest behind him, but he heard an elbow striking a gut and then silence returned. A moment later they came to what he'd heard from outside the cut. The sides opened up to reveal a waterfall as tall as a tree cascading into a shallow pool. On one side of the pool the water had washed out a large portion to leave forty feet of dry ground in the shape of a half circle, surrounded by thirty feet of smooth vertical stone. Taryn nodded, satisfied at what he saw—a grotto hidden away from sight that would be perfect to defend.