Read The Destroyer Book 3 Online

Authors: Michael-Scott Earle

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The Destroyer Book 3 (3 page)

BOOK: The Destroyer Book 3
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I should have been able to save her.

Runir grunted. Then he offered me a hand to assist my rise from the loamy dirt and thick grass in which I knelt. I ignored his offer of help and came to my feet easily. Then I turned to walk back toward the camp with him in tow.

I could have been at her tent in less than five seconds, but that would require startling everyone in the camp. Instead, I took my time and walked slowly through the grass while I observed the morning. The sun clawed its way over the distant Teeth Mountain range and the dawn air was blessed with the taste of wet dew. There was a sandy trail that led up the side wall of the gorge and we made the hike up to the guard post in ten minutes of silence.

Runir told me that the location of the camp was called Fisherman's Gorge because it formed a net-like grid through the foothills. We were about one hundred and twenty miles northeast of Nia Castle, but still well within the borders of the kingdom.

"You should bring guards with you," Runir commented absently when we made it to the top of the trail to the south opening of the gorge. It was a narrow passage, only two horses could fit through the gap at once.

"You didn't bring any." I looked at him and smirked.

"Fair enough," he replied before he saluted the guards at the entryway and walked around the gorge wall and into the campsite.

If I could have renamed Fisherman's Gorge, I would have called it Ladder Gorge or perhaps Step Gorge. Natural rock formations formed impromptu stairways that led to hundreds of small ledges on the sides of the canyon. Some were only large enough for one lone tent. Others were vast enough to fit larger pavilions that could house a dozen soldiers. Tents, makeshift wooden structures, and camouflage-dyed nets blanketed the base of the canyon and were intersected with irregular pathways. At the bottom of the gorge, a deep, quick-moving creek gently drowned out the sounds of the camp, while also providing us with fresh water. It was a strategically perfect location to hide the small army.

Runir followed me up a narrow stone path, across a slender support bridge, and over a ledge where a small group of soldiers trained. I heard a shout below me and turned to see a group of two dozen soldiers unloading a supply wagon that had just been wheeled from deeper in the gorge. The group was about one hundred feet below me and they swarmed over the cart like ants over a corpse.

After ascending a few additional ledges and climbing a ladder, we made it to Nadea's pavilion. It was colored to blend perfectly with the side of the cliff, and was guarded by four women in chain armor. When they saw Runir and I approach they pulled back the flap to allow us to enter.

"No change." Gerald was a small man, but he probably outweighed my famished body. His hair was a dark brown and came down almost to his shoulders in straw-like disorder. Runir told me that he had been responsible for saving Nadea's life when she had been imprisoned in the dungeons.

"Will she ever wake?" the tall man finally asked the question on everyone's mind. I could sense the sadness in his voice. The loss. He didn't need to tell me how he felt about her. He reminded me all too much of Malek and his feelings for Shlara.

"I am unsure," I sighed and took a spare seat next to Nadea's cot. Her body was covered with a thick gray blanket, but her face was left bare. Her eyes were closed and the dark circles under them accented the drawn and pained pull of the tan skin across her features.

"I thought you said you had done this before?" Runir asked me for the twentieth time.

"This is different." I shot him a glare and Gerald turned a shade of gray to match the blanket over Nadea. He must have heard stories about me.

"How?" Runir frowned and Gerald stood up from his chair quickly, interrupting my response.

"If you two are going to have this discussion, I'll just be leaving," the small man squeaked. Then he seemed to realize the bold words had actually left his mouth. His eyes grew wide and he dashed out of the tent before we might respond.

I turned back to Nadea and stared at her face. Then I looked at the swell of her chest under the thick blanket. Her breaths were so shallow that even with my enhanced senses I could only perceive a slight movement.

"Kaiyer?" Runir pressed me again.

"It's different because she isn't human." I turned to look at him. His eyes were a darker blue than Jessmei's. They didn't get wide with disbelief, his heart rate didn't increase, and he didn't inhale a breath.

"You knew?" I asked the obvious.

"The king had known for a while, he left a letter for my father." He looked nervous and his heart beat faster.

"You left that part out of the story you told me," I growled.

"Would it have mattered? It was her secret to tell. How do you know?" His words cracked and I saw the strife in his eyes.

"When I change someone, I learn everything about their body. I channel the Earth through their spine and into their brain, I see all of their imperfections and injuries. I reshape them to allow their mind and form to accept the Elements."

"The Earth? The Elements? Is that the magic you use? Explain it to me." Runir moved across the tent to sit in the medic's empty seat.

"Yes. It is our magic." I nodded and countless memories of Entas, my old friends, and screams of battle rode through my tired brain. "I started to change her, but I knew it would be difficult because of the stab wound. Then I realized during the process that her pathways weren't human." I was about to go into more detail about the procedure, but the handsome man interrupted me.

"I don't wish to speak about it anymore. When she wakes up, she can tell the story to you." Runir sat forward in his chair and looked at Nadea's face. The cot was in the center of the tent between the two chairs we occupied. On the opposite side was a medical desk where Gerald kept his tools ready in case his duchess awoke and needed his attention.

"You were the one who asked." I shrugged.

"I asked if she would ever wake. I didn't want to speak of her heritage," Runir huffed and got up from his chair, and then he paced around the small space of the tent by the exit.

"You can leave. I don't need help watching her." He frowned at my comment and shook his head.

"You have an army to manage." I pointed toward the campsite. I knew that there were other generals out there that Nadea put in charge, but I needed to get Runir away from me for a few hours. He was fucking bugging me.

"I want to be here when she wakes," he whined.

"If you are here I don't need to be." I got up and prepared to exit. Anything to get away from the sight of Nadea's motionless body and Runir's accusing glances.

"No, wait. I'll leave." He sighed and stood. Without another word or glance at me he walked out of the tent and into the activity of the early morning.

Then I was alone with Nadea.

I had spent the two weeks by her side, waiting for her to wake up from the near death coma. The wound on her stomach healed when I pushed the Earth through her body, into her spine, and forced it into her brain as I had done hundreds, perhaps even thousands of times before.

The change normally caused intense pain, sometimes people who didn't possess the constitution or the willpower died from the experience. Nadea had already been unconscious from loss of blood, but she should have woken screaming, or died.

Or anything but this cold, dead slumber.

It must be because she was half-Elven. Changing her had felt different. The Earth flowed through her too easily. The magic adhered to her body in ways I did not expect. By the time I realized, it was too late and the changes were made. I remembered Iolarathe telling me something about her people coming from the world. But that should not have mattered. She was still half-human, and changed humans became more powerful than Elvens. Her human side should have benefitted; her Elven side was already strong. Something about her dual parentage had caused an unusual reaction.

I sat back in my chair and sighed. My hand wiped across my face and came away coated in grease. I hadn't been able to sleep since we escaped the castle and made it to the remnants of Nia’s army. I needed Nadea to wake so I could take her north to her father, and then get Jessmei. Greykin, the duke, and the queen should have reached the small dairy village of Merrium by now.

I hoped they were safe.

Nadea needed me here, Jessmei needed me up north, this entire world needed me to eliminate the Elven threat, and my memories were becoming more and more painful to endure. In the last month I had blacked out several times, having no recollection of what transpired while my brain slept and my body remained awake. My last memory had mingled strangely with my waking consciousness. I remembered making love to Iolarathe and killing Shlara while fading in and out of my current existence in my room at Castle Nia. I had told Iolarathe we would have a child, which was something I could not have known back then. It had not felt like a dream. It had felt as real and present as everything I was experiencing right now.

I longed for the islands of my dreams. The endless, peaceful sky, the sounds of water and nothing. There was no one there to disappoint, no one to save, no one to choose. Just peace and rest and oblivion. I had never forgotten the islands in the nine months that had passed since Nadea and Paug woke me and ripped me from them, but for the past week, I had journeyed to them every time I closed my eyes. As tempting and soothing as they were, I could not let myself go back there. For as much self-loathing as I now possessed, I could not forget that I had somehow come to terms with my betrayal and pursued Iolarathe. I must have found a purpose and drive beyond the genocide of my enemy. I must have met my daughter. I was desperate to remember her.

If I retreated to the islands and left my friends to their fate, I would become the Betrayer of my memories. I could not let my pain and guilt over Shlara change how I acted now when Nadea and Jessmei needed me.

Outside Nadea's tent, the camp moved with chaotic life. Thousands of voices blended into the sound of water. The sound of wind. The sound of birds.

I leapt through the sky and over acres of tropical green forest and spider webs of rivers. The massive white birds screeched at my intrusion into their air, but I just laughed. They didn't rule here. I did.

I floated through the sky and decided to land in a small clearing in the middle of the network of streams and thick green trees. As soon as I landed, I easily flung myself into the air again, spinning slowly in a somersault until I floated again at the apex of my leap.

This island was bigger than the others. Streams became rivers and tumbled off the edge with a roar. The blue sky matched Jessmei’s eyes, interrupted by white brush strokes of thinly stretched clouds. A score of birds spiraled down beneath me with a light cry of mockery.

Gravity was not a finite ruler here as it was on the planets where I had lived. It was gentle and slow, and if I decided I wanted to ignore it for a time, I could. I was still tired, and the river beside me was cool and inviting. In a few small bounds I reached it and scooped some of its clear water into my mouth. I splashed my face and shoulders, the icy water was invigorating, I felt its energy seep through my skin.

Then I noticed the ship.

I had seen them before, but only in the distance. I had often tried to jump to them, but never could get any closer. Here my ambition was easily fatigued. I gave up and watched from afar. They were massive sailboats, painted in bright, garish colors that contrasted painfully with the cool, pale blues and greens of the sky and islands. Through the miles separating us I could see the passengers of these vessels. They were attired as radiantly as their ships, in orange, red, or gold. They did not see me.

This particular vessel was a vibrant teal. It bore three masts, with sails the color of the setting sun. Its orange oars looked like a cross between leaves and feathers. They gracefully spun the clouds into frothy swirls.

There was only one passenger on the deck. A woman. Her dark brown hair streamed back from her shoulders like the turquoise flags flapping on the masts above her. She wore a gray dress cut like the lavender one she wore to the banquet a lifetime ago.

"Nadea!" I shouted in joy. I missed her. I bounded quickly into the air and came crashing down on the shore of my island. The ship swam a few miles away, but they were always a few miles away. I yelled her name again and waved to get her attention. I caught her eye and she raised her hand up in a lazy wave. None of the other passengers had ever noticed me before.

I leapt through the sky toward the brightly painted vessel. It looked like a fish, or a multicolored swan with its head tucked into its belly. I yelled Nadea's name again and tried to get her attention while I floated. From the distance I saw her smile and curl her fingers in a poor attempt at a wave. She didn't seem as excited to see me as I was to see her, but I was sure as soon as I held her in my arms again she would share my joy.

I landed on another island and sprinted through the clear path for a few steps before I somersaulted through the clouds, bounced off another island, and flew through a squadron of the big white birds that hung overhead. My eyes found the ship and I observed Nadea standing on the deck, but she no longer looked at me. I yelled her name again and forced Air to push my words out to her. She heard my voice but for some reason she didn't respond.

BOOK: The Destroyer Book 3
10.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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