Lament (Scars of the Sundering Book 2) (43 page)

BOOK: Lament (Scars of the Sundering Book 2)
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Delilah’s mind reeled. She had
heard of the Iron Giants, but everything she had read, everything anyone ever
told her about them, suggested they all died during The Sundering.

She cleared her throat. “Am I to
understand that you were born before The Sundering?”

“Yes.” Ragnok chuckled, a slanted
grin on his face. “As I said, a long time ago. Why has Terrakaptis sent a
draevyehfehdin to me?”

Delilah nudged her brother. Kale
frowned at her and slapped at her hand. “I heard his sister is here. Nearby?
Pyraclannaseous?”

“The Fire Dragon.” Ragnok gripped
the arms of his throne. “The Iron Giants guard her slumber.”

Kale licked his lips.
“Terrakaptis thinks it’s time for his siblings to wake up.”

Delilah shone her staff around
the room. The King Under the Mountain was not attended. No guards, no servants,
just him, alone. It struck her as odd. “Kale should see her. In the meantime,
you and I can speak of Muncifer and your agreement with the Archduke.”

“There is nothing for you here,
draks.” Ragnok coughed and wheezed. “I know what the archduke desires. I know
what the archmage desires.”

Kale grabbed his sister’s arm.
Delilah shook him off. “What they want are complete opposites, it seems.”

“Delilah!” Katka tapped her arm.
Delilah shook her head, keeping her eyes on the giant king.

“Kale, grab her!”

Delilah willed Kali and all the
rest to shut up while she tried to be diplomatic. Her brother grabbed her and
spun her around. Her profanity-filled tirade caught in her throat as her eyes
focused on the skeletal giants advancing from the darkness.

The wheezes of Ragnok faded as he
chuckled. “Like those who have come before you, you will find only death here.”

 

* * *

 

“Do you think he’s gone mad?”
Qaliah glanced over her shoulder at Pancras as they rode. Gisella guided
Moonsilver around a soft patch of earth. Encounters with deities often drove
folks mad, but she hoped that was not the case with Pancras. The minotaur
remained quiet most of the morning, responding to questions directed to him but
offering nothing without first being prompted.

“Much has happened to him since
we left Muncifer. Perhaps he is reflecting.” Gisella considered if she had
died, met her goddess in a near-death experience, and then encountered her
grandmother’s disembodied spirit while trying to commune with Aurora, she would
have many things to think over.

“I think he’s cracked and he’s
having vivid dreams he thinks are real.” Qaliah reached into her pack and
produced a stick of dried meat.

“You killing him was no dream.
Clearly, something greater is at work here.” There was a time when Gisella
indulged in skepticism as the fiendling did. Since her own encounter with
Aurora, however, she learned the gods of Calliome interfered in the world,
albeit rarely. She couldn’t blame Qaliah for her doubts, though. To anyone who
had not experienced the touch of a god themselves, it might seem like madness.

“Well, hopefully, he’ll keep
those mad dreams to himself while we’re on the ship. How long will the journey
to Vlorey take?”

“A few months, I expect.” Gisella
wasn’t sure herself but had heard stories.

“Joy.” Qaliah spurred Comet and
ran ahead of Gisella, who slowed Moonsilver to allow Pancras to catch up. His
eyes stared off into the distance, so she let him ride in peace. He appeared to
her to be lost in thought as opposed to having gone mad.

They rode without conversation
the rest of the afternoon. Qaliah eventually circled back to them. When they
were all three together, walking alongside their horses on the banks of the
river, Pancras broke his silence.

“If what I encountered was the
Lich Queen’s consciousness, then what she told me was troubling.” A pair of
thrushes chirped and fled a nearby bush as they strode, their horses’ hooves
crunching through the pebbles of the riverbank. A light breeze brought the
aroma of honeysuckle.

“Care to elaborate, big guy?”
Qaliah kicked a rock into the river.

“She said we could not comprehend
her nature, her purpose. She offered me dominion over this world if I pledged
myself to her.” He stopped for a moment to pluck a stone from the bottom of his
hoof.

“Power-hungry maniacs often
attempt to tempt others with promises of power.” Gisella heard enough stories
from her mother to recognize such strategies were one of her grandmother’s
favorite tactics.

“It didn’t sound like her goal
was to return to this world in a physical form.” Pancras rubbed his right horn
as he shook his head. “And what’s so special about me that I’m a prize for
her?”

Gisella had an answer for that.
“You have been touched by Aita. People make an effort not to think of her.
Contemplating death is unpleasant, but, in the end, none of us are out of her
reach. Beggar and king, warrior and scribe, weak, powerful, it doesn’t matter.
Each of our final destinies lies with the goddess of death. We cannot escape
it.”

“I’m glad we can have such
cheerful conversations.” Qaliah snorted and patted Comet on the neck.

“She’s right. It is part of life.”
Pancras sighed and leaned on Stormheart as he gazed across the river. “The end
of the circle is also a beginning. What lies beyond the veil is the last great
mystery any of us will ever confront.”

Gisella ran her fingers through
Moonsilver’s mane. “A bonelord would be a valuable resource for one hoping to
defeat death itself. The Lich Queen’s quest for immortality is part of our
history. Why would the destruction of her physical body hinder that quest?”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Qaliah held
up her hands. “Are you saying that this moldy, old dead bitch is still trying
to figure out a way to not be dead? And she’s willing to destroy the world to
do it?”

The minotaur scratched his chin.
“I am not certain she wishes to destroy the world, but yes, I think she is so
obsessed with her quest for immortality that the last two times she was
defeated merely delayed her.”

Gisella yearned to discuss the
situation with her sister. Alysha was more learned in Lich Queen lore than
anyone else Gisella knew. The blood ties she and her sister shared with the
Lich Queen undoubtedly played into her plan, though Gisella was at a loss to
explain why. Her sister was so sure of it, she warded herself against magical
scrying and communication; hence the letter she sent with Grímar. For now, all
she could do was join with the minotaur’s speculations and hope the Lich
Queen’s plan became clear, before it was too late to act.

 

* * *

 

Kale pulled his sister out of the
way as one of the skeletons swung its bony arm at her. With its attempt to
scoop up the drak thwarted, it gripped its club with both hands and swung it in
a powerful overhead swing. Kale jumped backward as it smashed the floor where
he stood previously. Bits of broken stone peppered Kale, stinging where they
pierced his scales. He grabbed the end of the club, riding its ascent as the
giant prepared to swing again until he was high enough to jump onto the giant’s
shoulders.

Delilah scrambled to avoid
another bony giant’s attack, her claws slipping on the smooth stone floor. Katka
blasted another, sending chips of bone flying through the air, but causing no
real damage. Kale watched his sister conjure a protective shield to protect the
human from a blow from the giant and then drew his dagger. He plunged it into
the giant’s head, but its skull was too thick, and he succeeded only in
chipping bone. As the undead creature ignored the drak on its back and turned
its attention to Kali, Kale found himself wishing he’d purchased a heavier
weapon when he had the opportunity.

It swung its club at her as she
dodged an attack by a third skeletal giant. Her falcata whirled and flew,
hacking shins. Flakes of bone flew from its legs, each blow from her blade
carving new notches. Kale yanked his dagger out of the skeleton’s skull, and
the skeleton spun. Kale felt himself slip and spread his wings. He fell off the
skeleton’s shoulders and twisted, gliding in an arc around its head as he
breathed fire.

The giant’s head erupted in
crimson flames. The bone turned black as it burned, but the undead giant
continued attacking the area underneath itself, trying to smash the small,
annoying creatures below.

Delilah conjured a magical ball
of fire and hurled it at another giant, engulfing it. It, too, pressed the
attack and ignored the flames that charred its bones.

“Great, now we’re fighting
flaming giant skeletons!” Kale landed next to his sister. Katka slid across the
floor after dodging a blow from a giant’s club.

She rolled to her feet, pointing
her wand at it. “
K’teep’ma tis astrapis!
” A bolt of lightning shot
forth, coursing through the skeleton.

“Nothing is working!” The human
grunted as a swing of the giant’s club caught her arm and sent her spinning.
She collapsed onto the floor, cradling her arm.

“The king! Get the king!” Delilah
pulled her brother’s arm and spun him, pointing him toward Ragnok.

The elderly giant grinned, his
crooked, rotting, yellow teeth visible behind the sea of white covering his
head and face. Kale ducked under the legs of one of the skeletons, drawing
another dagger as he ran. He stopped and threw both of them toward the giant
king.

Kale’s blades sank into his
chest. The king’s hands snapped up, clutching at the protruding hilts. His grin
faded as he wheezed, flecks of blood coloring his lips.

A burnt-orange flash passed him
as Kali rushed toward the king with her sword raised. She cried out and swung,
sinking the blade into his leg. He grimaced and swatted at her, knocking her
aside.

From the corner his eye, he saw
Katka point her wand at the king and loose another bolt of lightning. It struck
his temple, snapping back his head. Arcs of electricity danced across his
features as he screamed.

Kale felt the whoosh of air and
dove forward a split second before one of the skeleton’s clubs came crashing
down. He felt it brush his heels and tucked into a roll that brought him to the
base of the throne’s dais. When he came to his feet, he unleashed a gout of
flame at the giant king.

The king’s robe and beard erupted
in flames. His screams rose in pitch as he burned. Kale felt the ground rumble
and turned to search for his sister.

Delilah darted back and forth,
avoiding the blows of the giant skeletons whose attention she held, weaving her
staff in an intricate pattern. Kale heard her chanting. Pebbles and dust fell
from the ceiling in a steady rain.

Spikes of stone burst from the
floor. One upended a skeleton, sending it falling toward Kale. He ran toward
Kali and spread his wings to protect them as he crouched over her. The giant
hit the dais, cracking ribs on impact. Its head popped off its neck, crashing
into the lap of the giant king. Both tumbled to the floor, the latter still on
fire.

Another spike impaled one of the
giant skeletons, splitting it and sending chunks of bone flying. More dirt and
rocks fell from the ceiling, and Kale pulled his wings closer, hugging Kali
nearer to him.

The screams of the burning giant
king subsided, and the rumbling earth slowed and stopped. When the dust
cleared, Kale dared to pull back his wings and open one eye.

Delilah climbed on top of a pile
of rocks and bones. When she reached the top, she offered a helping hand to
Katka as the human girl joined her.

Kali pushed Kale off her. “Tinian
himself would have a hard time topping that!”

The corpse of the giant king
smoldered, his head smashed by a block of stone from the ceiling. Shards of
giant skeletons littered the chamber as leaves clutter the forest floor.
Everyone and everything was covered in a layer of dust and caked with blood.

Delilah peered at her brother
from the top of the pile. “Well, that worked.”

“I don’t think our negotiations
were successful, Deli.”

 

 

Chapter 24

 

“He didn’t even give us a chance
to negotiate. What’s going on, Delilah?” Katka picked her way down the side of
the pile of bones and rocks. She leaned on the drak sorceress for support,
keeping her broken arm tight against her stomach.

“Something’s not right.” Delilah
rubbed the back of her neck, picking flakes of stone from her scales. “I’m sure
someone would have told me if these giants were being ruled by a lunatic with
monstrous skeletons.”

“He certainly seems like the type
who would want to attack Muncifer instead of trade. But why now? What changed
this year?” Katka hopped down to the floor and rubbed her arm.

Delilah had an idea about that.
“The archduke said something about some tremors this past spring, during the
archmage’s visit with the giants.”

Katka shook her head, wincing in
pain as she touched her wounded arm. “I don’t know anything about that. There
were some tremors, yes, but they happen every couple of years.”

“Did he think the archmage caused
the tremors?” Kale struggled to roll the giant king’s charred body over. Kali
crouched down to help him.

“They accused each other of all
sorts of things, but he said he didn’t know any earth magic.” Delilah
considered that the archmage may have lied.

“Earth magic is unheard of at the
Arcane University.” Katka pulled out her wand and levitated the giant king’s
body enough for the draks to shove it out of the way. Kale retrieved his
daggers, wiping them clean on an unburnt remnant of the king’s clothes.

“In fact, they teach us in
History of the Arcane Arts that earth and water magic was lost during The
Sundering. I’ve never seen anyone do what you just did, Delilah.”

“Deli’s always surprising
people.” Kale put his arm around his mate.

“I learned it from Gil-Li’s
grimoire.”

“Gil-Li?” Katka’s jaw dropped.
“The drak archmage? That book you have was hers?”

Delilah rubbed her snout. “Yes.
Terrakaptis gave it to me.”

Katka’s eyes grew wide, and she
stepped backward until she stumbled and fell onto the dais. She steadied
herself with her good hand and stared at Delilah. “Does the archmage know you
have it?”

“No.” Delilah scoffed at the
thought. She knew better than to tell Archmage Vilkan anything about any of her
prized possessions. “Are you going to tell him?”

Katka huffed. “Certainly not!
You’re my friend. He’s an oaf! You should know better than that!”

Kali cleared her throat. “These
magic lessons are probably fascinating, but we shouldn’t linger.”

“You’re right. Sorry, Kali.”
Delilah smiled when she realized she didn’t feel a twinge of irritation
admitting her brother’s mate was right. She produced a light from her staff and
stepped to the back of the room, near the dais. The wall loomed over her, the
ceiling far out of range of her staff’s light.

The others followed behind her as
she traced along the edges of the room, seeking a passageway or some exit apart
from the one through which they entered.

“Here, here!” Katka found the
passage they sought, a crumbling tunnel which, to the giants, probably
resembled a mouse hole.

Delilah saw a faint orange glow
at the far end of the tunnel. The odor of brimstone was strong. She extinguished
her light and followed the winding path, careful to avoid loose rocks. The
ceiling was low enough for her to touch with an outstretched hand, and some
narrow passages required Katka to crouch to squeeze through.

“Where ever this goes, Deli, is
not a place the giants visit.”

“Thanks, Kale. I figured that out
for myself.” As soon as she said it, Delilah realized her words were harsh and
unfair. Her stomach growled, and her muscles ached from dodging the attacks of
the giant skeletons.

The glow grew ever brighter as
they descended into the tunnel. Delilah sensed they traveled deeper and deeper,
and the odor of decay overlaid that of brimstone. The stench grew stronger the
closer they approached the end of it.

“Oh, that’s rank.” Kale waved his
hand in front of his nose as they stepped out of the tunnel into a vast cavern.
A chasm split the cavern in two, with a river of lava at the bottom providing a
hellish glow that illuminated even the ceiling far above. The radiant glow was
aided by drak-sized crystals protruding in every direction from the walls and
ceiling.

Delilah felt like she’d stepped
into the middle of a giant geode. Many draks kept fist-sized geodes as
decorations in their homes in Drak-Anor, but she doubted any of them imagined
seeing one the size of a small village, much less standing inside one. She took
a moment to absorb it all: the way the vermilion light from the magma reflected
in the faces of the crystals, the echoes of her friends’ footsteps as they
found secure footing inside, and the distortion caused by the rising heat from
the lava river.

Through the heat distortion,
Delilah saw a sinuous, elongated shape lying on the opposite side of the chasm.
Using her staff for support, she climbed down the smooth crystalline faces,
making her way to the crack in the geode’s floor. Multiple reflections from the
crystals surrounding the shape, distorted by rising heat, made it impossible to
clearly identify it.

When she reached the edge,
Delilah teetered for a moment and then stepped back. The shape was reptilian,
covered in cracked, black scales. It wound around crystal formations as large
as houses, obscured by crystalline pillars and clusters.

Kale landed next to her, flapping
his wings for stability. “Is that Pyraclannaseous?”

“It looks like a dragon, doesn’t
it?” Delilah squinted, hoping to see more clearly through the sulfurous haze
rising from the chasm. “It’s not moving though.”

The haze and the heat shimmer
made it difficult to determine if the dragon was motionless or merely sleeping.
She watched its limbs for a moment to see if they twitched. Her breath caught
as she heard the squeak of leather on the crystal behind her.

“What is that?” Katka helped Kali
climb down to the large crystal on which they now all stood.

“Let’s have a look, Deli.”

As she cried out in protest, Kale
grabbed Delilah under her arms and pushed off the crystal. For a dizzying
moment, Delilah saw nothing below her except a river of lava and then felt an
updraft catch in Kale’s outstretched wings. The heat from below felt as if it
would roast the scales off her body, and for a moment, she couldn’t feel her
brother’s hands under her arms. She drew a ragged breath and clenched her jaw
to keep from screaming. The updraft lifted them over the chasm, and the two
draks landed next to the unmoving tail.

Katka and Kali seemed so far away
as they stood on the other side of the chasm. After catching her breath,
Delilah waved at them. “Stay there! We won’t be long.”

The reply from Kali was faint,
but clear. “Be careful!”

Delilah jammed an elbow into her
brother’s ribs. “Hear that? Your mate says ‘be careful.’ That means no more
jumping over lava without warning, got it?”

“I knew the updraft would carry
me over, Deli.” Kale jumped and grabbed a crystal ledge, pulled himself up, and
then offered his sister a hand.

“But both of us?”

Kale’s silence as they climbed
was telling. Delilah chose to let the matter drop, since they were both alive
and well for the moment. As they worked their way through the crystals,
following the dragon’s body, she was struck by how emaciated it was. The stench
of decay grew stronger as they covered its length, and after climbing up on a
monolithic crystal, she saw why: a massive crystal lay shattered amongst the
ruined remnants of the dragon’s head.

Blood stained nearby crystals.
Ragged flesh was blackened and shriveled. Long exposure to the heat of the lava
dried and withered the flesh and exposed tissue.

Kale took his sister’s hand as
the draks surveyed the grim scene. Pyraclannaseous, the Fire Dragon, was dead.

 

* * *

 

Unlike other cities Pancras
visited, no walls, guard towers, or fortifications guarded Cliffport’s
entrance. Only the Copper Run River itself formed any sort of barrier between
Cliffport and the surrounding lands. The arched, stone bridge that crossed the
river served to funnel travelers into the city. Even on the far side, enough
shops and stables surrounded the road, that Pancras wasn’t sure where the
official city boundary lay.

Qaliah patted Comet’s neck as she
dismounted. “I hope you’re not thinking we’ll need to sell our horses to get on
a ship.”

Stormheart whinnied as if in
protest to the idea of being sold. Pancras swung his leg over the horse’s neck
and slid from his saddle. “Hopefully that won’t be necessary.”

“It will cost more to find a ship
willing to accommodate them.” Gisella remained mounted, sitting high in her
saddle and gazing at the surrounding buildings. An ox-pulled wagon passed them,
the bells around the oxen’s neck ringing in time with its steps as the wheels of
the wagon clattered on the cobblestones.

Pancras led Stormheart across the
bridge by his reins. “I think we should head to the port first. Perhaps the
tides are rising, and we can board a ship sooner, rather than later.”

“It can’t hurt to investigate, I suppose.”
Gisella dismounted Moonsilver when they reached the far side of the bridge. The
road led them to a square and then turned to follow the river. Cliffport was
built on the downslope of the granite cliffs which flanked the river. The
Copper Run plunged through the middle of the city into the back of the harbor.
A series of carved steps and lifts scaled the final hundred feet from the edge
of the city down to the Docks District.

The streets of Cliffport were
less congested and straighter than those of Muncifer and Almeria. Pancras found
it easy to maintain his bearings as they made their way through the Market
District, through several residential districts, and to the Trade District,
which reached to the very edge of the cliffs.

Apart from a few taverns, most of
the buildings in the Trade District functioned as warehouses and stored the
various goods arriving by sea or waiting to depart by sea. Some operated lifts
by which travelers could lower their mounts to the docks for a few coins.

The view overlooking the harbor
was breathtaking. Gulls flew at the end of the docks, squawking at anyone who
came too close. Twin promontories surrounded the harbor, offshoots of the
cliffs upon which the city was built. Moored ships bobbed like corks in a
basin, and a stark white arch spanned the harbor entrance from the end of each
promontory.

The three companions dismounted
before leading their horses onto the lift.

“Nethun’s Arch.” Gisella rubbed
Moonsilver’s nose as she appreciated the surroundings with Pancras. “The
Archway to Andelosia.”

“Or the exit.” Qaliah stood with
her arms wrapped around Comet’s neck, standing as far away from the edge of the
lift as possible. A gust of wind rocked the platform, and she gasped, burying
her face in her horse’s neck.

Pancras steadied himself with a
hand on Stormheart’s withers. He’d never seen the sea before. Beyond the arch,
a vast expanse of brownish-green water awaited. Dark clouds touched the ocean
on the horizon, a wall to meet the edge of the world.

“They say the sea is cold.
Capricious. Unforgiving. It’s difficult to comprehend the extent of the thing.”
The minotaur shivered, though the breeze was warm. He inhaled the salt air,
wrinkling his nose at the stench of dead fish wafting up from the docks.

“Who says that?” Qaliah’s voice
was muffled by her horse’s mane.

“Sailors I’ve met.”

The archway disappeared as the
lift passed behind some warehouses. Pancras stumbled as the platform jerked to
a halt. A grubby man with a bandana tied around his head opened the gate. “Get
a move on. We’ve cargo to lift.”

Pancras, Gisella, and Qaliah led
their horses onto the docks. Unlike the stone streets of the upper city, the
Docks District was built entirely upon the silty shore at the bottom of the
cliffs. Supported by thick wooden beams, the streets were little more than wood
planks set atop the silt or boarded walkways constructed over the shallow tide
pools.

“We should find the
harbormaster’s office.” Gisella stopped at an intersection to allow a team of
sailors pushing a cart laden with crab baskets to pass. “They should have a
listing of ships and departures.”

“What’s that building over
there?” Qaliah pointed toward a square tower rising above the warehouses near
the piers.

“Probably the harbormaster’s
office.” Gisella squeezed Qaliah’s arm as she passed. The clopping of their
horses hooves on the wooden planks joined the cacophony of commerce on the
docks, making conversation nearly impossible as they walked.

A mixed group of sailors and
laborers leaned against the wall in a line, complaining about the humid air,
their back-breaking labor, and poor pay. Their eyes followed the three
travelers as they stepped toward the entrance.

BOOK: Lament (Scars of the Sundering Book 2)
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