Crown of Ash (Blood Skies, Book 4) (22 page)

BOOK: Crown of Ash (Blood Skies, Book 4)
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He
is
close
to the
Black Citadel
.  Things
are
more
solid, more real.

The rider’s
gangly weapons sweep low to the ground and
stir
dead leaves.  Their mount

s eyes
shine
silver. 

He bends around the trees and
dodges
a long blade.  Sparks fly
as
steel strikes the forest,
like
the trees
themselves
are
made of iron.  He brings Soulrazor/Avenger up and cleaves
through
b
lack armor flesh, metal
fused to tissue
.  The blade hisses
as
he
buries
it
in
to
the rider’s face.  The creature
makes
a high-pitched draconian sound that reminds him of boiling
lobster
.

Another rider comes at him.  He dodges back, uses the cobalt trees
for cover

His heart pounds.  He hears the dissonant whinnies of
primordial
steeds
that smell
of
carbon and fused metal.  The air is deathly cold
.  E
very breath freezes and falls. 

The rider
swings at him
,
but
he deflects the blow with
his double-blade
.  His arm
reels from
the impact
as t
he force of the attack drives him to the ground.  The creature and its mount rear up, one a part of the other, a centaur made of shadows
.  The mount’s hoof
ed feet
kick
at the air.

The blade
gives
him strength. 
Harlequin power surge
s
through him,
a
bastard fusion of diametric
energies
.  His attack sears throu
gh the mount and into the rider
,
and
tears them
both
apart
.  They explode in a b
rittle cloud of dust glass that rains like pellets to the forest floor. 

White
h
ands
erupt out of
the
ground
, and they reach up
and grab
him.  The
other riders charge through the trees
.  D
esperate, he cleaves
through
the
clawing
ice limbs.  Pale blood sprays on
to
the
black
earth. 

He flees
deeper
into the forest.

 

We search.

 

He runs for hours.  Hooves
thunder
behind him. 

He can’t stop.  Blood pounds in his ears. 
He waits to
be crushed by a blow
to the back
.  His legs ache with fatigue.  He runs through
a
forest covered in frost smoke and made dense with darkness.  Trees like slivers of
ice
cage him in

The riders cease their pursuit.  He isn’t sure how long it has been since he’s lost them.  He slows, and walks deeper into
trees
turned blue
with
frost. 

The sky is different.  The normally dank
illumination
that suffuses
the Whisperlands fade
s
to a frozen lunar shine that makes everything ghostl
y.  The shadows recede.  He see
s
the stark detail
s
of
the
bone trees and
the
scarred terrain.  Skeletons sit in piles of
frozen leaves
and
seem to
stare at him. 

Time is slower
, like
the air has thickened.

He struggles against the cold.  Every crunching leaf echoes like
breaking glass
.  The air tastes of forest rot and burning ice. 

There are
fires
in the distance.  He moves
ahead
cautious
ly
.  Soulrazor/Avenger
feels
heavy in his hand.

The trees grow taller as he nears the gates of a grim city
.  The settlement is made
of fortified wood held together by iron sap.  Thin streams of milky water
run in
a perimeter around the forest outpost.  Tall arrow
slits reveal grim shadow faces
with pale eyes. 
B
ows
are
aimed at
him, and he senses the presence of
a
mage’s
spirit

The
creatures
are vaguely reptilian.

What is your business here?
He hears
the question
, but when he
tri
es to
answer they’
re
all
gone.
Only the dead forest city remains.  The water
has
turned to
dust.  The gates
lie
shattered.

There are
no creatures
there
, living or dead
.  He finds crushed wagons and open homes, abandoned watch posts and weapons long unused.   

His feet shuffle
in
frozen
dirt. 
Open doorways look like hollow eyes. 
He feels like he’
s being watched, even though he knows
he’
s alone

Nothing living has
dwel
l
ed
with
in those walls
for a very long time.

 

We search.

 

He knows this City of Thorns
is where the arcane natives came from.  This was their home, when they
’d
had a home.  This place
i
s stranded, exiled in
t
he Whisperlands
just as Earth is stranded in the world After The Black. 

He wonders why they left.  He feels he should be afraid, but he isn’t.

He
w
a
nders from house to house.  The
small wood
en
structures
are
bereft of furnishings. 
I
ce
and
dust cover everything.  Glitters of
frozen
crystal
litter
the ground like fallen stars. 

There is a
well at t
he center of the
city
.  Its broken stone wall
surrounds
a shaft that runs
deep
into
the
frozen sludge.  There are bones at the bottom, frozen white shards of once-humans that glitter in the pale air.

He moves on.

The west end of the City is a small shrine, similar in many ways to the
place
where he’d first met the natives,
the
building
where they
’d
worshipped the
triple-succubus
deity.  The
build
ing is sinuous and curved.  It’
s
an almost organic thing made of cold wood and black iron.  Frozen glass covers the temple
’s
face.

The gaping doorway seems to stretch
wider
as he approaches.  He senses
a
cold presence inside, but he is be
yond fear.  He will keep moving
and earn his escape, or e
lse he will die.  He is tired of
walking with no purpose.

The air in the sh
r
ine is warmer than
outside
.  The pale light
won’
t penetrate the
gloomy
interior.

A black corpse waits in the shrine.  The ebon warrior kneels in penitence, petrified in reams of ice.  Its dead eyes are cast to the ground, and its arms
are
frozen
forward.  Its hands
grasp
at
something it will never
hold
.

He steps closer
, and his eyes follow to where the corpse’s fingers point at something buried beneath the frost on the wall.

 

We search.

 

He looks upon that frozen figure and understands. 
They’d left
that
place, their home, to find a way to escape the Whisperlands, but something kept them from ever returning.

They forgot what they were…
who
they were.  They went off to find
a way out
,
but
once
they
left this city they
forgot
what they were looking for
.  T
he Whisperlands corrupted the
ir minds before they could
complete their quest, and
now that this place is dead
they
can
never gain that knowledge back.

But they
still
remember that they
search
.  T
hey
remember that they
came from
the
City of Thorns, even if they
can’t
recall what they
’d left to
search for, or why.

Maybe that’s why I’m here
, he
wonder
s

Maybe t
hey need me to finish the search for them.  To find wha
t they couldn’
t.

H
e
turns away from the corpse and
wipes the ice
from the
stone
.  W
hat
he sees there
chills his heart.

Suddenly, he
knows what
he must do
.  He knows
w
hy it

s so important
for him to escape that dread realm.

I
just
hope I’m not too late.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

nine

GREY

 

 

They took
Kane
below deck and led him
down
a
narrow and dimly-lit hall filled with dangling hooks and rusted steel plates.  Dank doorways led to foul-smelling rooms.  They brought
him
to a wide cabin
lined
with wooden pillars, work benches and a table
covered in
sharp tools. 

Ronan sat on a chair in the middle of the room
.  H
is hands
were
bound behind his back.

“Ronan!”

“It’s ok, Mike.  They’re not going to hurt you.”  Ronan looked up at the nearest reptilian, who glared back at him with
yellow-gold
eyes.  “Well…not yet...”

They fastened Kane to a chair with a length of nylon cord
and then cut Ronan loose.  A
reptilian sentry armed with an iron spear and
a
pistol
in
his belt
escorted Ronan
from
the room, while t
wo of the
creatures
stayed in the cabin with Kane.

“Just relax, Kane,” Ronan said as they led him out of the room.  “It doesn’t take long.”

“What?
WHAT
doesn’t take long?!” he yelled.

One of the
reptilian
s
stood
right
in front of him
.  It
wore no boots, which gave Kane a clear view of
its
clawed
and iguana-like
feet.  Its skin was deep grey and brown, and
its
claws were diamond black. 
The creature
wore a
sun-colored
leather
cloak
with e
paulets
on
the shoulders.  Beneath the coat
, the creature wore
an armored vest covered in thaumaturgic apparatus, a network of opaque tubes and metal syring
es managed by a small clockwork
engine.  Green-grey saliva dripped from beneath its gasmask, and its eyes shone brightly in the dim golden light that spilled through the shuttered port windows.

“Hi.”  It was all Kane could think of to say.

The creature watched him for a moment, and then nodded to the other creature in the room. 
The larger reptilian stepped up and wrapped its arm around Kane’s throat as it put him into a painful headlock.
 
His back and shoulders ached as he was twisted and contorted.  Breaths caught like balls in his throat.


S
top
…that…

he coughed.

The creature in the coat
leaned in close
.  Its grey and scaly hands were encased in some sort of arcane gauntlet
, just
like the ones Cross wore, leather and metal straps set with
spidery
nodes that extended along
the back of
each long finger.  A dull black gem on the back of the ga
untlet pulsed with light that intensified
as the creature’s hands drew closer to Kane. 
He
felt heat pulse against his skin,
a
toxic glow that smelled of fish and seawater. 

The air grew moist.  Sweat trickled down his face.

Relax
, a voice said in his head. 
We must prepare you.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Kane
coughed
as claws took hold of his face.  “Wait
…you’re not even…
talking


Quiet
, the voice commanded.  It took Kane a moment to realize the voice was his own voice, and that it spoke inside his head. 

His skin burned.  Sickness crawled in his stomach, and every ache and wound he’d
a
cquired in the past twenty-four hours came rushing back at him.  He
struggled
there, wracked with pain and nausea
and about to pass out
, forced to keep still as grisly green energy poured down his throat.

Images flashed through his mind with violent force. 

 

He sees sinking sand and giant faces
,
obelisks
of bone
slate and rust

M
assive winged creature
s
,
primordial brute
s
with razor maws and
saw
blade
ridges down their armored backs
, scream
into a black
sky.
 
There is b
lood on the ground and smoke in the
air

R
ows of
reptile-fleshed
humanoid
s
stand
bound and bloodied
at the edge of
a deep pit. 
Something pushes them down, one by one,
and t
hey writhe and scream as they
fall
.  Something in the depths of the
hole
consumes them
,
a
dark and ancient presence with
cold and calculating hunger
.

 

Kane was back on the ship.  He felt wrung dry, drained of all his energy and strength.  The taste in his mouth and the cloying dampness on his
chest and
legs told him he’d vomited.  His muscles ached so badly it felt like he’d been running for days.

And yet somehow he had the strangest sense they’d done no harm to him
…t
hat they’d somehow prepared him for something important. 

Those creatures in the vision were the same race as these guys on the ship.  They showed me something that’s happened to them…maybe
even
the reason they’re here now.

He was dizzy and disoriented and felt like he’d been drugged.  His limbs were tired and
the inside of
his chest was raw, like he breathed through a filter of dust and ice.   

He gave Sol a nod when they brought the criminal below
and
returned Kane topside.  They secured his wrists in front of him and chained him to an iron loop on the deck. 

Ronan seemed to be in the same state of disconnect as
he
was.  Even though he felt tired and drugged,
Kane’s
vision seemed somehow sharper.  Colors looked clearer
, details seemed more defined

Too bad there isn’t shit to see
in the middle of the cold
-ass
desert. 

The skiff travelled for
over
another hour.  The cool desert sky was pregnant with steel clouds.  Dark fliers skimmed close to the distant dunes, and signs of recent conflict showed on the sandy landscape: shards of wrecked vehicles, charred bodies
,
drifts of greasy smoke
that hung
over
the remains of ruined settlements. 

They saw the bones of tusked creatures and
flew through
the dank stench of the burning dead
.  They saw the remains of sacrifices
.  Tall crosses made of bone and sharpened bamboo had been
erected
on islands of jagged rock
l
ittered with
eviscerated
bodies.  The oozing corpses had been burned
and
left
for the
desert
predators

All of the corpses were reptilian.   

 

They never came for Jade or Maur.

“Can you use your magic?” Kane asked Jade quietly.  She looked as exhausted and as worn out as he was. 

“I don’t think so,” she said.  She
closed her eyes and
focused
for
a moment.  “I
think it would be dangerous
.”

“Figures,” Kane said.

“Not because of them,” she said with an eye towards the roving crewmen.  They’d more or less left the team alone since they’d brought back Sol, who’d been left as dazed and weak as Kane and Ronan.  “This entire area
feels
unstable.”  Jade looked around and shook her head.  “It’s hard to explain.”

“Who are these freaks?” Ronan growled.  He looked at Jade.  “You still think they’re Grey Clan?”

“It would make sense,” Jade said.  Ronan seemed unconvinced, and Kane had to agree with him: last he’d checked, the missing people of the fallen city-state of Desh weren’t exactly
reptiles

Once a significant port city,
Desh had been an early membe
r of the Southern Claw Alliance

Besides having to deal with vampire hostilities,
Desh
had been also
plagued by
creatures
out of the dangero
us and unexplored Ebonsand Seas.  M
utated sea horrors, Vuul pirates
,
and wave after wave of violent weather churning with dark sorcery
had
battered the city-state. 

Then, one early morning in the year A.B. 9, the city-state of Desh vanished without a trace.  No one could explain how it could have been there one day and suddenly be gone the next.  All intelligence gathered indicated that the Ebon Cities vampires
weren’t
responsible for Desh’s disappearance,
and
that they were just as confounded as
the
Southern Claw as to what had actually happened.  There was nothing where the city had once stood: it had quite literally
vanished
without a trace.  Everything from its citizens and curtain walls had evaporated into thin air.  It was
like
Desh had never been built at all.

Then, around 16 A.B., humanoid wanderers started to pop up along the Ebonsand Coast.  They were surprisingly well-armed and piratical nomads who traveled on arcane-driven vehicles and eked out an existence along the rocky shores and sandy wastes.  No one in the Southern Claw ever got close enough to learn any more about the creatures who’d come to be known as the Grey Clan, but it was widely accepted they were human, albeit somewhat more primitive and bestial in spite of their apparently
sophisticated technology…technology
that seemed to be based on that of the Southern Claw.  Heightened activity on the front lines of the war prevented any further investigation of the Grey Clan
,
who deftly became even more difficult to find from that point on.  They’d kept to the shadows, never posing any threat, but they were always on the Southern Claw’s watch list due to their mysterious origins. 

But nothing I ever heard said they were frickin’ snake men.

Whatever they were, now that Kane, Ronan and Sol had been “treated”, the prisoners had been left alone.  They’d even been given canteens of water and loaves of dark bread, which they vanquished hungrily.  Kane felt like he hadn’t eaten in days, and since he’d actually been in that exact situation before he cautioned everyone to eat slowly for fear of making themselves ill. 

Of course, it
hadn’t
been days, but whatever they’d done to him below deck had robbed him of most of his strength.

“Jade…what did they do to us?”

She’d been watching all three of the
m
en
carefully ever since they’d been brought back on deck.  The fact that the reptilians had left her and Maur alone was confusing.  Had the humans been prepared for some sort of sacrifice?  Or did they need some measure of protection that mages and Gol had no need for?  None of it made any sense.

“I don’t know,” she said softly.  “How do you feel?”

Kane had to think about
that
for a moment. 

“Like I’ve been drugged, only without the groovy buzz.”  He looked up at the sky, then down to the sand.  “My head feels
weird.  Clearer, I think.”

“Like you’ve been enhanced?” she asked.

“No, it’s just like…I can see
more
,” Kane
said
.  “Things I don’t think I’d notice normally.”  He looked at Jade, and
he
saw every curve of
her pale smooth skin
,
the richness of her
silky black hair,
the
etched details of the
tribal tattoos on her neck
,
the subtle
motions and sweat on
her chest
as she breathed in

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