Where Serpents Strike (Children of the Falls Vol. 1) (35 page)

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Authors: CW Thomas

Tags: #horror, #adventure, #fantasy, #dragons, #epic fantasy, #fantasy horror, #medieval fantasy, #adventure action fantasy angels dragons demons, #children of the falls, #cw thomas

BOOK: Where Serpents Strike (Children of the Falls Vol. 1)
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Demulier shot him a look of pure disdain.
“No one speaks to him, you fool. He speaks to those he deems
worthy.”

Ustus bowed. “Of course, my lady.”

The witch continued pacing, drawing her
nails over the surface of the large table that sat in the center of
the room.

“Are there no other gems that will serve our
purpose?” Ustus asked.

“Another regenstern? Ustus, I thought you
were smarter than that. The regenstern is a rare gift. It was not
plucked from a mountainside, but forged by a great wizard many
centuries ago. It is one of an exceptionally rare few, and likely
the last of its kind. No. There is no other.” She flicked her hand
through the air. “But that doesn’t matter right now. The dragon’s
blood is still collecting and will take many more years before it
is even ready for The Red Awakening. Time and patience. That is all
we have right now. In the meantime, find the gem!”

When Demulier started moving toward the
door, Brynlee sprinted up the stairs. Forgoing silence for speed,
she raced to get out of the cavern before anyone discovered she had
been there.

In her mind she replayed the pieces of the
conversation she remembered, trying to make sense of it. She
understood nothing except that Ustus and Demulier were plotting
something against the high king—something involving a dragon
perhaps.

At the top of the stairs Brynlee bumped into
a woman in a silky copper dress. She bounced back from the woman’s
hip and would’ve tumbled backward down the stairs had Demulier not
reached out and caught her by the arm.

Brynlee’s eyes were wide as saucers as the
witch drew her out into the hallway.

“You must be careful,” Demulier cooed,
brushing some dirt off of Brynlee’s shoulders. “Always watch your
feet, my love. You don’t want to step where you’re not
welcome.”

Brynlee was too terrified, too confused, to
say anything in response to the woman.

Ustus emerged from the stairway and locked
the door behind him. He passed by Brynlee without even looking at
her and opened the door to leave the brothel. Demulier followed
him, but not before casting one final look over her shoulder at
Brynlee who stood quivering in the dark, musky corridor of Mungo’s
house.

 

 

LIA

Lia Falls sniffed the late evening air of
West Galori. It smelled of sea salt and fish. From the alleyway she
looked behind her at the ocean, to the distant horizon alive with a
brilliant orange sunset. Somewhere beyond sat Aberdour. It would be
late autumn there now, the cooler winds from the north bringing in
the first frosts of winter.

If Efferous had an autumn, she hadn’t seen
it yet. The summer had been plenty hot enough, with one dry day
rolling into the next.

Lia missed home, missed the changing
seasons. This moon marked her eleventh year. Mother would have
baked her something sweet. Father would’ve given her a boyish gift,
as he always did, but he would’ve done so discretely, out of sight
of Lilyanna. One year ago he had given her a dagger. Though not a
gift most girls would jump up and down over, it became Lia’s most
prized possession. She had lost the knife after stabbing Sir Komor
Raven in the leg.

Her thoughts of home now soured by the
memory of that awful day, Lia turned back to face the busy fishing
community of West Galori.

She pulled her hood tight around her face,
always aware of patrolling black vipers. It was unlikely any of
them would ever recognize her, but she figured it wiser to be safe
than sorry.

There were two city guards across the road
standing watch at the base of a round stone tower. Their cloaks
hung almost to the ground, the heavy fabric dyed a dark blue. They
hadn’t noticed Lia yet, and she hoped it stayed that way. Just to
be sure she slunk back into the alleyway a tad further.

The crowded streets were thinning. Fishermen
were headed home for a hot meal. Merchants and traders were packing
up and counting their earnings. Lia had spent many days watching
them all, learning their routines, studying their behaviors. In
recent months she had become intently focused on the way people
interacted with each other, knowing that the best way to blend in
was to know how to behave. She could now tell a real smile from a
fake one that often gave away a liar. She knew the look in a
woman’s eye when she was truly in love, and could tell the ones who
weren’t by the way they cut short the kisses they gave to their
men, and the lonely expressions on their faces as they walked
away.

Lia’s attention was currently fixed on the
workingmen of West Galori with their sun-bleached hair coming and
going from a popular tavern across the street. She had spent
several days watching the place, looking for someone—or rather a
certain type of someone.

A scuffle broke out among three men who were
standing outside the tavern, two fishermen versus a dark skinned
traveler in a long leather coat. One of the fishermen had struck
the traveler in the jaw, sending him spinning to the dusty
earth.

They were shouting in Efferousian. Lia
couldn’t speak the language very well, but she had picked up enough
from Khile, the old man, and the townspeople to understand that the
dispute involved money. The traveler owed, and the fishermen were
out to collect.

A few townsfolk were gathering to watch the
fight.

One of the fishermen rushed in to kick the
traveler.

What happened in the next few blazing
seconds confirmed for Lia that she had found the man she was
looking for.

The traveler caught the fisherman’s leg,
broke his ankle with his forearm, and threw him to the ground where
he caved in his nose. He deflected a blow from the second man,
shattered his nose with his palm and kneed him in the crotch. The
fight ended as swiftly as it had begun.

Lia watched the traveler walk away as though
he had done nothing but swat at a couple of bugs. After a moment,
she emerged from the alleyway and went after him. She followed him
for a little while, watching him move, his dark head and black hair
low between his broad shoulders, his long coat tussling in the
breeze behind him.

When she finally found the nerve to approach
him, she sprinted up to him on his ride side and whipped around to
face him. “Teach me,” she said.

He stopped, puzzled, and looked her up and
down. “Teach you what?” he said with a baritone voice.

“To fight.” She pointed down the street in
the direction of the tavern. “Like that. Like you.”

The man smirked. “Go home, little girl.” He
pushed past her.

Lia skipped ahead of him. “I can pay
you.”

He stopped again, looking annoyed. “Pay me
how?”

“I can cook. I can clean. I can shovel
barns. I’m good with my hands. Let me be your apprentice. I
can—”

“Apprenticing is boys work,” he said. “Get
out of my way.”

Lia reached out to stop him. “Please. I want
to learn how to fight.”

He stepped back, sighed, and studied her
again. “How old are you?” he asked.

“I’m fourteen,” she lied, hoping she wasn’t
pushing her luck.

“Women are good for one thing,” the man
said. “Are you prepared to pay like that?”

Lia’s stomach knotted. She had never
considered paying with her body, a revolting concept, and yet, in
her desperation, she found herself considering it.

“What do you mean?” she asked, buying time
to think.

The man lifted his left hand, making an O
shape with his thumb and fingers. “You.” With his other hand he
thrust his index finger through the hole. “Me.”

Lia felt her palms growing clammy. For
months now she had thought of nothing but returning home and
killing The Raven. Blinded by an unquenchable thirst for revenge,
she reluctantly agreed to the man’s terms.

He grabbed her dragged her down behind a
tall stone building where the narrow back alley reeked of sewage
and wet dog. Panic filled her as he thrust her face first against
the side of the building. His hands pawed at her, touching her in
ways she had never imagined being touched.

“You don’t have much woman on you yet,” he
said snidely, pawing her chest.

Her heartbeat quickened as his hands did
their fondling.

“Off with your slacks,” he demanded in a
low, vibratory tone.

Regret slapped her. Lia started to twist and
squirm, her panic rising.

“Hey!” the man said. “You agreed to—”

“I changed my mind,” she said, straining
against his hands.

“Too late for that, little honey,” he
growled. He slid a greedy hand down the front of her pants.

The months of strength training and
stretching paid off when Lia lifted her leg and shoved off the side
of the building with a powerful kick. The traveler slammed into the
building behind them, giving Lia a chance to break free. In the
process, her cloak tore off, exposing her neck and the birthmark
she kept hidden on her collarbone. She drew her fist back to strike
the man in the face, but stopped when she saw his terrified
eyes.

“Witch!” he said, pointing to the mark on
her neck. “You’re cursed!”

She thrust her fist at him, but his massive
hand swatted her forearm away. He grabbed her throat with both his
hands and started to squeeze.

“How dare you lure me into one of your
spells!”

Lia saw a long slim blade hanging from his
belt. She yanked it out of his trousers and plunged it deep into
his belly. The man bellowed until Lia twisted the blade and yanked
it left, than up, carving a deep wound. His eyes flared open
wide—the shock of death. He slipped to the ground and lay
still.

All at once she was overcome with a rush of
excitement. For one brief moment her thirst for vengeance felt
quenched, the beast inside of her was appeased. Instead of some
dark skinned stranger, she imagined it was Komor lying at her
feet.

She looked down at the man, almost unable to
believe what she had done. Her heart was racing. Her hands were
shaking. She looked at the short, narrow sword now covered with
blood and felt powerful.

“Someone call out here?” came a shout.

A guard.

Another in the distance called back. “You
say something?”

“Someone’s hurt over here.”

Lia grabbed her cloak and took off down the
narrow street back onto the main road. She stopped, flung her cloak
over her shoulders, and stuffed the bloody sword in the belt at her
back. She strolled down the street, calm, like any commoner headed
home for the night. She could hear the commotion of guards
discovering the dead traveler’s body, but knew they would never
find her. Hiding was easy, especially for one as small, clever, and
agile as Lia.

She didn’t realize it, but she was
smiling.

“Promise me something.”

The voice was so close to her back that Lia
let out an audible yelp. She had been so enthralled with her own
performance that she didn’t hear Khile walking up behind her. She
spun around to face him, almost tripping over her still shaking
feet.

“You scared me,” she said, gasping to catch
her breath.

“Promise me something,” he said again.

“What? Promise you what?”

Khile stepped up to her, limping on his
right leg. “Don’t ever agree to sell yourself like that again.” His
tone was surprisingly sharp and threatening.

“You saw?”

“I saw a child giving in to blind ambition.
I saw a fool buying dirt with gold.” He paused, looking sad. “I saw
a friend about to make a big mistake.”

His words jarred her. They were unexpected
and made her feel judged. She responded in the only way she knew
how: with hardness. “I’ll pay any price to see Komor’s head on a
stick.”

“I don’t believe that,” Khile hit back.

“He killed my family,” she said, choking on
the lump in her throat. “He ruined my life. The realm is in chaos
because he’s leading the Black King’s army all over Edhen,
conquering everyone that opposes him. He deserves to die. So does
the king. They all do!”

“You can’t stop them.”

“Well I’m damn well going to try!” she
shouted. “And if you’re not going to help me then you can get out
of my life!”

He stepped closer. “You just killed a
man.”

“I know.”

And that’s when it hit her.

“I know,” she said again, this time less
defiantly. “I… I know.”

The tears that followed came quick, like
vengeance for Lia’s crime. She had just killed a man. All of a
sudden the thought made her sick.

When Khile’s arms encircled her she lost
control and wept. He held her until Lia had cried herself out,
until she stopped shaking from her adrenaline high.

“That’s how it’s going to feel,” Khile said.
“Only worse.”

Lia pulled away, sniffling, embarrassed by
the tears that made her look so weak. “I don’t care. I have to find
Komor Raven and kill him. I—”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do!”

He sighed, his jaw clenching. “Listen, I
said I would teach you to fight and I will, but you need to be
patient. It will take time and dedication and—”

“I’m ready.”

“Are you? Did you not get enough of a taste
today, or shall we go find the body of the man you killed so you
can reconsider.”

Lia shook her head, refusing to let Khile
use her guilt against her. “He was a scoundrel. He deserved to die,
just like Komor Raven.”

“I wish the world were as black and white as
you make it seem.”

“I’m ready,” she said again. “Trust me.”

Khile didn’t look convinced. He regarded
her, she thought, like someone with a sickness he didn’t
understand.

“I’ll teach you what I can, but how much you
learn is up to you.”

She clenched her fists and straightened her
back. “I’ll learn it all,” she declared. “I’ll be the best.”

Khile regarded her with a raised eyebrow.
“We’ll see.”

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