The Destroyer Book 3 (71 page)
"By the Dead Gods!" the empress cried out into the night. "The Destroyer!" It was a scream of absolute terror and it was echoed by every Elven warrior crouched in the courtyard.
The creature tilted the gaping maw of its head to look down at me. Eyes glowed green through the scaled plates of metal. I crawled backward as fast as I could in my dress, but my legs got caught up in the folds and I couldn't move. Almost as soon as the demon had laid eyes on me, it lost interest. The monster turned to where Greykin, Runir, and Danor kneeled on the grass and made a low growling noise. Then it was suddenly standing next to them, and the Elvens' bodies evaporated into a red mist that hung in the air.
I heard the twang of bows, but the nightmarish demon had already raised its shield lazily and moved it from side to side while dozens of arrows smashed into it like high pitched rain drops. When the first volley ended a wave of heat passed over me, the sky flashed with purple and green light, and the screaming behind me reached a feverish pitch. I risked a glance back and saw men and women encased in a sticky liquid fire that seemed to only grow stronger with their efforts to roll on the ground and deny it of air.
A strong arm picked me up and I was flung on a shoulder. The monster was attacking the Elvens, or so it seemed, but the creature's movements were too quick and terrible for me to follow. I was jostled, something smacked my head, and I felt everything grow dark.
"Jess! Wake up!" It was Nadea's voice. She sounded far away, but my eyes focused on her face.
"Where are we?" I tried to say, but my ears were still ringing and I could not hear my own voice.
"She's awake! Let's go!" my cousin commanded. Hands hauled me to my feet and someone asked me if I could walk.
Beltor grabbed my hand and the group of us jogged through the halls of the prison. Runir and Danor seemed to know the way. The two men led the group down uncountable floors, through the reeking sewage tunnels, and finally to horses. I kept waiting to wake up, to be free of this nightmare, to be with Kaiyer.
"Where are we going?" Beltor asked while he and Greykin helped me mount a horse.
"To your keep," Danor said with urgency.
"Aren't the Losher there?" my uncle asked.
"Scouts say that they pillaged the farmland and then went back over the Teeth," Danor stated.
"Aren't we just delaying the inevitable? I want a chance to kill me some more of these motherfuckers, but how are we going to win?" Greykin's skin was flushed and looked almost ghastly in the light of the torch.
"Kaiyer said he will teach us." Danor shrugged.
"What if he doesn't get out?" Runir asked with concern. We had all mounted our horses now and Danor led the way through a thick oak grove.
"He'll get out. But he said Nadea also knows how to do it," Danor whispered.
"He showed me once, but I'm going to have a hard time remembering," Nadea hissed. I was so happy to see my cousin, but there was no mistaking the anger on her face.
"Then hopefully he joins us later." Danor laughed a little.
"What if that monster kills him?" I asked.
"Monster?" Nadea said.
"Jess. Don't talk about it anymore," Runir said. "We've got enough to worry about. Nadea, we'll tell you later."
“Their ears can hear us, be quiet!” Danor commanded.
We rode in nervous silence until we emerged from the oak forest and into the plains that surrounded the capital. I could see a faint green and purple glow from the distant castle. Although my eyes weren't as sharp as Kaiyer’s, it seemed that warriors were entering the city like a stream of angry ants carrying torches.
Then we turned northeast, toward Nadea's home, away from the castle, away from the empress and her promises, away from the horrible demon monster, and away from Kaiyer.
Into the endless night.
The End
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Kaiyer and friends continue their struggles against the Elvens in
The Destroyer Book 4
. Keep reading for an excerpt!
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Editing and e-book formatting by Ginger Earle
Cover art by Daniel Kamarudin
Typography, illustration, and print book formatting by Jason Faraci
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 by Michael-Scott Earle
An excerpt from The Destroyer-Book 4
Iolarathe
“Our tribal lands are over the next hill.” The male escort had told me his name a few times, but I had not bothered to remember it.
I made no response to his statement and he cleared his throat before the sour scent of fear escaped his body. Even in the cool breeze rolling over these grassy hills I could smell him.
“Do you wish to rest here for lunch, or should we carry on?” Gerleita was the other escort from my father’s tribe of Laxile. She also emitted the scent of sour fear, but it was less offensive than the stench of her male counterpart.
“How long until we reach the estate?” Corlintha asked for me.
“Six more hours. Which is why I asked if Iolarathe would prefer to rest.” Gerleita smelled of sharp cabbage now. Bitter and pungent.
It was quite a trivial decision, but I’d been impulsive for most of my life. On this eve of such great change, perhaps I should consider a more relaxed approach?
“We will break here.” I turned to Corlintha and nodded. She blinked her purple eyes and bowed slightly before turning her horse around to face the rest of the caravan. With a click of her tongue the beast cantered down the small slope toward the many covered wagons. She would alert them to my plans and oversee my lunch preparation.
“May we eat with you?” Gerleita asked. Her heart beat quicker and her stench grew cloying in the midday heat. I was surprised at her boldness and considered the consequences of acceptance. My father had sent his top traders to escort me and my servants from my mother’s lands. Despite traveling together for the last month, I had done nothing to build a relationship with them. My mother would be displeased, but her opinion hardly mattered anymore.
“Yes, but sit upwind of me. For the love of the Dead Gods you both reek like you expect me to kill you any second.” The woman’s emerald eyes opened along with her mouth.
“We are sorry, Mistress. We don’t wish to offend you--“ the male said.
“Silence. I don’t want to hear your bullshit now. You may join me for lunch, but do not speak unless I address you.” They both bowed deeply off the side of their horses and the sour scent increased.
I dismounted and handed the stallion’s reins to Gerleita. He was a spirited warhorse that disliked anyone’s presence but mine. He must have sensed my displeasure because he didn’t balk at the woman’s touch when she tied him to the nearby juniper.
Twenty humans set up my pavilion upwind, so that I would not experience their stench. They would just handle the framework and the canvas top of the structure. Then my personal servants would place the furniture, rugs, tables, and deliver my meal.
Corlintha approached me from the direction of the caravans and offered me one of her rare smiles.
“You, Gerleita, and the male escort . . .”
“Chirtlan,” she reminded me.
“Will join me for lunch. Unless you have other plans?” I raised an eyebrow.
“I need to see to one of the wagons. The wheels have cracked and it might not make it the rest of the way.” She couldn’t hide the smirk and the scent of apricots drifted to my nose.
“Don’t leave me alone with them.” I tried my best not to sound frustrated since I knew she was joking with me.
“It would be unthinkable for me to deny the Singleborn.” She chuckled a bit. “Soon you will be on your own though.”
“Don’t remind me. Ugh. They approach. Their fear is rotten like month old fruit.”
“Maybe if you were nice to them they would smell better?” Corlintha suggested.
“Not my nature.”
“You are nice to me.” Corlintha shook her head with a sigh.
“You are mistaken. You just fuck up less than my other attendants.” I crossed my arms and smirked at the violet-eyed woman. Her hair was the color of weathered silver wood and she kept it cut short.
“You are a liar and will miss me when I return home.” She smiled in full now and I enjoyed the apricot scent of her humor.
“See that is where you are the one who is mistaken.” I laughed a little and winked at her. “You are staying here with me until my brother and sister come to visit.” The escorts approached and stood north of me, upwind. Corlintha held off her response with a bite to her lip and then turned to them.
“Your servants have prepared the pavilion,” the male whose name I had forgotten again said.
I nodded at him and walked toward the tent. Inside were a scattering of leather chairs, plush carpets, and dark wood tables laden with food. Lavender and pine incense burned from various places under the tent and my nose could finally ignore the fear that permeated my escorts.
I sat in the prominent chair and raised one of the empty crystal glasses for my servants to fill. It looked as if they had decided on mead for this afternoon’s treat and the honey spice aroma, along with the incense almost made me feel at home. I swirled the golden liquid in the glass for bit to mellow the taste and then took a small sip.
“Thank you for sharing this meal with us,” Gerleita said while she placed a few thin cuts of boar meat and cheese from a nearby table on her plate. I nodded at her and took another sip of the mead. The warmth ran through me and I held back a shudder of pleasure.
The breeze picked up and carried the scent of grass, juniper, and water to my nose. I inhaled deeply and the first positive thought about my relocation came to mind: at least my father’s lands were beautiful. I could appreciate the desert, with its howling salt winds, jasmine forests, and fresh springs. But the hay meadows and forests of the western lands were filled with much more interesting scents and sights. I was actually looking forward to riding through the endless pasture and exploring the various glens scattered through them.
Of course, I would never admit such desires.
“When was the last time you spoke to your father?” the male asked after Corlintha set a plate of food in my hands.
“A decade or so ago. He came to visit me on my twentieth.” The mustard was made with ground chunks of whole seeds and agreed marvelously with the cuts of dried and salted roast beef. I guessed that the cooks were using the last of our best food since our final destination was near. I nibbled on a ripe green fig after the bite of meat and mustard and then washed it all down with more of the mead.
“He must be thrilled to see you,” Gerleita said. She favored the orange melon over the cuts of meat. It was a typical habit of those less attuned to the Elements, but I fought back my sneer.
“I care not for his feelings.” Their scents intensified with an overcooked vegetable stench. Fucking shit, they were so sensitive.