The Destroyer Book 3 (8 page)

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Authors: Michael-Scott Earle

Tags: #General Fiction

BOOK: The Destroyer Book 3
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I couldn't breathe anymore. I felt so tired. Kaiyer had always done various exercises throughout the day. He told me that it was important to be ready to use one's body, and I had joked that I was always ready for him to use my body. I should have taken his advice. If only he was here right now. I shouldn't have let him go.

The light of the forest got brighter through my tears. I almost cried in joy. The tree line ended a short distance from me. Then I would be out in the open field behind the farmhouse. Someone would see me. Someone would help me.

"Stopppp!" I turned around and saw the big man running after me. Blood poured from his foaming mouth and soaked the front of his tunic like spilled wine. I felt myself stumble since I wasn't watching where I ran. Jiure loomed so close. I couldn't afford to stop but my left foot stopped working and I collapsed with a scream.

Into Greykin's arms.

"What the hell is going on here?" his voice echoed in my head and made my brain ache. I tried to explain, but the only words that escaped my lips were garbled by the sobs that my chest unleashed. I didn't believe that it was him. Joy swung my emotions away from the terror and I didn't know if I cried in relief or fear.

I heard footsteps behind me. Greykin had been looking at me, but his eyes quickly darted to Jiure running out of the trees. His eyes narrowed and a growl escaped his mouth. It felt like thunder rumbling through his chest and into my body. I couldn't stop shaking. I tried to inhale, but the sobs caught up with me again. Greykin surely understood now what was transpiring.

"Jiure I presume?" another voice asked. Another beautiful, familiar voice. Nadea's father stood next to the Old Bear. He had grown out his beard and shaved his head, but I recognized my uncle. I wiped my eyes on Greykin's tunic and sighed. Kaiyer must have brought them here.

Jiure rubbed his arm across his mouth to clean off the blood. He eyed me and the two men warily. "Yahhh arrrrgh intarrrfeeeer witttt fammllleee madderrr," he muttered through broken teeth.

"What did he do to you?" Greykin growled at me. I shook my head and couldn't speak over the lump in my throat. Tears started to come to my eyes again. I was safe. Thank the Spirits. Thank you, Grandmother.

"Eyyyy diiinn dooo naayy thaaaannnggg." Jiure looked at the two men in confusion. "Whhhooo arghhhhh yoooou?"

"I'm her uncle. This is her guardian. Did you rape my niece, boy?" The duke's words were as sharp as the sword he fluidly drew from his hip. The boy had seemed so large and powerful before, but as the duke took a few steps toward him he shrunk in size.

"Nooo. Nooo. I diiiddddnnnntintt aaapppee errrrr." He looked at me with panic in his eyes and sank to his knees. The movements made his opened belt rattle like clinking coins.

"Then I'll kill you quickly instead of torturing you." The bearded man's mouth set as he pulled his sword arm back to deliver a cut to the boy.

"Beltor!" Greykin hissed in an urgent whisper. The duke stopped his swing and looked at the giant man with a question in his eyes. Then they grew wide and his hard face frowned.

"Fuck." I realized he was looking toward the village.

"Can we escape into the forest?" the Bear asked.

"It’s too late.”

I pulled away from Greykin’s chest. The small village of Merrium was home to one hundred and fifty families, mostly small dairy and cattle farmers. The farmhouse I had shared with Jiure and his family was on the outskirts of town, at a slightly higher elevation. From the open field where we stood, we could see the entire village, all the homes, stables and people.

And the dozens of Ancients that filed into the town on horseback.

And they could see us.

Chapter 4-The O’Baarni

 

"What's your name, stranger?" the wizened old man hissed through the gaping holes in his toothy grimace.

"Stranger is fine," I replied. "What do you have for trade?" It had been a few weeks since I had spoken to anyone and my mouth slurred the words.

The trader grunted and cocked his head over his shoulder at the dilapidated cart. Torn and dirty sheets dangled from the pillars of the wooden gurney like sails. I didn't see a horse and I wondered if the old man pulled it with raw willpower and limited aid from the wind.

"Few pans, pots, lizard skins, salt, packs. I came from Deadflats, so most of my wares are gone. Taking salt up to the Green Mountains." He grinned again and squinted. I figured he was trying to see through the wrappings around my face and shoulders. After a few seconds with no response from me, he spat on the dry salty ground of the desert. The spittle splattered purple and smelled like a week old crow carcass.

"Any water?" I brushed my hand past the three skins I carried and shook one. It rang half empty and I had been told that the town of Deadflats was still another four days’ walk from the middle of the Salt Desert.

It was the last place I believed she fled.

I could run there in six hours, but it would be mildly uncomfortable without a few more sips of water.

Then again, I was used to discomfort.

"Not trading water." The old man was suddenly suspicious and he glanced at the short hunting spear I carried. He journeyed in a group of half a dozen other travelers that I crossed on my way to the town. The other men were not traders and apparently not his kinsmen. His heartrate rose, he had little confidence they would protect him if I decided to steal his water.

There was so much fear. With the Elvens gone, we had turned on each other instead of working for a better future.

This was not the world Shlara wanted.

"Relax, Old One. I'm not going to take any." I put a smile to my lips, and although he couldn't see it through the wraps on my face, it came through my words. This seemed to make him more nervous, so I quickly changed my tactic. "Could you trade me some information? I'd like to know more about Deadflats. That is, if you know anything about the place." I added the right emphasis to my voice so that it would seem that I doubted his expertise. This was an effective strategy I had honed while traveling around the world speaking to humans. After the eradication of our masters, we were left with nothing but our knowledge. People were proud of what they knew and eager to prove it to anyone who would listen.

"I've been traveling this route longer than you've been alive, boy." He spat on the ground again. I almost laughed. He couldn't have known that I was probably older than him, that I was once the leader of the greatest army this world had ever seen, and what I was doing in this desolate place at the edge of the habitable world.

"How many people live there?" I asked quickly.

"Two thousand. There is a big underground river that flows beneath the hard pack of the mesa, fresh water that is untouched by the salt." I nodded. It sounded more like a city than a town and I wondered how I would be able to find her.

"How often does the town see new travelers?"

"You ask a lot of questions. You should leave him alone unless you want to trade," one of the other men of the group said with a guttural growl. He sat at a campfire behind me. Twilight was an hour away, but moving across the Salt Desert would sap energy from even the O'Baarni. These men were frail humans and probably beyond exhausted.

"Sorry, friend," I apologized and debated killing them all. It would only take me a few seconds and I would be able to have a more honest discussion with the old man. Then I sighed. Shlara wouldn't have wanted that either. I had to accomplish my goal without murdering anymore of my kin. "I'll be heading there. Thank you for your time." I nodded to the old, diseased trader and walked out of their small campground and toward the town. The heat bent the air coming off of the desolate plain and for a second I thought I saw a tree, or a person, in the distance.

"Wait, stranger," the old man called. "You can't leave now. It is almost night and the lizards will be out. Best wait with us till morning. The next campground with water is a ten-hour walk, at least."

"I better run then," I said as I increased my tempo into a slow jog. Five seconds passed and I heard one of the men call me a crazy fuck. Then I was half a mile away and heard nothing but the sound of the wind screaming and my booted feet slamming into the dry plates of the desert like a snare drum's paradiddle.

The Salt Desert lay on the southeast end of the continent, where our final battle had taken place. The land had been owned by the Elven tribe of Grlitar, but they abandoned the territory many years before the last battle. Their exodus and eventual extinction left their human slaves to fend for themselves and carve a life out of the harsh environment. These people had never seen one of my kind and only heard of our crusade through distant travelers. Now the Elvens were probably as much of a myth as the O'Baarni.

This forgotten piece of the world would be the perfect place for Iolarathe to hide.

It would be the perfect place for us to begin our life together.

The sun threatened to set and it cast a deep and angry fire of red across the endless sky. This empty land was surrounded by mountains, but they squatted thousands of miles before me and looked like I could crush them in my hands. The desert floor was dried dirt tiles mixed with salt. They glittered in the red light of the dying sun, and for a few minutes, it seemed as if I ran atop endless lava.

An hour of jogging passed, and the last rays of the sun turned a soothing violet and then a deep purple. The color clashed with the green glow from the moon and gave the barren land a sickly hue. Up ahead I spotted a gang of lizards feasting on the corpse of a fallen one of their own kind. I picked up speed and outpaced the wind past them. The creatures were the size of a small pony, covered in spiky scales. Their maws opened wide enough to swallow an adult wolf. I killed a few yesterday, but their flesh tasted horrible, it was tough and filled with bones. Soon I would be at Deadflats and could get a real meal.

Thoughts of food made me think of water. I grabbed at my last skin and drank a quarter of its contents while my feet continued their forward momentum. Before the Salt Desert, I traveled through hundreds of miles of hilly badlands. Food was almost never a concern for me since I easily killed whatever I happened by, but water was scarce and I could only go a few weeks without it.

The water from my skin poured warm, but it tasted delicious. I had planned on saving some just in case the city somehow did not have a water supply. I reasoned that it was only a few more hours of travel, and if water was not a traded commodity in Deadflats, then life certainly would be. So I drained the rest of the bladder and picked up my pace.

There were no trees in the endless wasteland, so the wind had an unfettered path to scream across the desert. Most normal humans would need to duck low in an attempt to crawl under the overwhelming gusts. Even most O'Baarni would have found the intense gales hard to cope with and might have thought about setting up camp for the night. But most O'Baarni only harnessed power from the Earth. They used the magic to fuel their bodies, make them stronger, faster, and heighten their senses. O'Baarni who were more skilled could unleash the Earth externally and combine it with Wind to create Fire.

I had learned to harness all of the Elements. I had mastered Water during the last battle between the humans and Elvens. Iolarathe had unleashed a surprise attack with three indomitable dragons who were decimating our forces with ease. By pulling the energy out of Water, I had defeated one of the dragons, ripping all the moisture from its massive alien body. Then I quickly learned how to pull Fire and Wind when his sire blasted me with a spray of liquid magma from an angry maw. I defeated him as well. The last remaining dragon, the female Recatolusti’catri, escaped, flinging me from her talon in mid-flight and sentencing me to death for murdering her mate and child.

Except I did not die. Iolarathe found me. We had made love and were discovered by Shlara.

I forced the painful memories out of my head. I had not thought about that day for many months, but it refused to be bottled up and discarded. The ordeal had taught me how to pull power from all of the Elements. The Wind that tried to thwart me on this salty plain was quickly harnessed into me and used to fuel my body.

I still did not know why Entas refused to teach us about the other Elements. He had not seemed surprised or angry when I showed him that I had learned how to pull from Water. He only cautioned me against using it, and forbade me from asking him about it. The other Elements felt different from Earth. Earth was slow, consistent and familiar. It felt as easy and soothing as the beating of my heart. Water and Wind felt chaotic inside of me. They tried to force their way out, like blood gushing through a thousand tiny lacerations. Fire was intense pressure, screaming for release, a breath held too long.

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