TABLE OF CONTENTS
Prologue - One Last Scar
Chapter 1 - Visions and Voices
Chapter 2 - Wheat and Chaff
Chapter 3 - Shadows in the Storm
Chapter 4 - A Shift in Savagery
Chapter 5 - Discoveries
Chapter 6 - Blood that Binds
Chapter 7 - Marked
Chapter 8 - Best Laid Plans
Chapter 9 - Half-Blood, Hunter
Chapter 10 - A Shattered Seal
Chapter 11 - Mysteries Unmasked
Chapter 12 - Catching Arrows
Chapter 13 - A Noble Peasant
Chapter 14 - Affirmation
Chapter 15 - The Black Box
Chapter 16 - Bonded
Chapter 17 - A Place Called Home
Chapter 18 - Desperate Measures
Chapter 19 - A Feast for Volos
Chapter 20 - The Lost Returned
Chapter 21 - Riddles in the Dark
Chapter 22 - The Unseen Hand
Chapter 23 - Into the Wood
Chapter 24 - Before the Scythe
Chapter 25 - Spectres and Shades
Chapter 26 - Old Crow, Little Sparrow
Chapter 27 - Duty and Divergence
Chapter 28 - Erstwhile Enmities
Chapter 29 - Debt Collection
Chapter 30 - A Soldier's Redemption
Chapter 31 - Restorations
Chapter 32 - Homecoming
Chapter 33 - Old Wounds Asunder
Chapter 34 - The Colors of Betrayal
Chapter 35 - An Uncertain Snow
Chapter 36 - Baiting the Trap
Chapter 37 - Woman by the Water
Chapter 38 - The Drakleyn
Chapter 39 - Strength in Desperation
Chapter 40 - Demon's Dirge
Chapter 41 - An Ancient Hunger
Chapter 42 - And All the Powers of Hell
Chapter 43 - A Broken Crown
Chapter 44 - The Nature of Defiance
Chapter 45 - Darting in the Dark
Chapter 46 - Smoke and Mirror
Chapter 47 - Cassian's Pride
Epilogue - A Pyre for the Unrepentant
THE HUNTER'S GAMBIT
__________
The Archanium Codex: Book One
__________
NICHOLAS MCINTIRE
Copyright © 2019 Nicholas McIntire
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
Published by Black Dove Press, 1504 Clover Lane, Fort Worth, TX 76107
For information about bulk purchases, either in print or eBook form please contact Black Dove Press at 817 320 2886.
Manufactured in the United States of America.
First Edition
ISBN 13: 978-1-7338491-0-4
ISBN 10: 1-7338491-0-4
Ebook ISBN 13: 978-1-7338491-0-4
Ebook ISBN 10: 1-7338491-0-4
Map and Interior Illustrations by Erin Lameroux
Interior book design (print and ebook) Nicholas McIntire
Cover created by The Cover Collection
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Books by Nicholas McIntire
The Archanium Codex
The Hunter’s Gambit
A Wicked Wind (Forthcoming)
For my father, Michael.
Thank you for always believing in me,
even when I couldn’t find a way to believe in myself.
I love you.
PROLOGUE
One Last Scar
Year 1020 of the Second Era
“IT’S NOT GOING to work.”
“Calm yourself, you’re making me nervous. I make mistakes when I’m nervous.” Cassian said flatly, his fingers tracing the incessantly shifting lines of chartreuse light and black flame that hovered before him.
Richter scowled, running a hand through his flaxen hair. As though he didn’t know that. As though he didn’t know Cassian better than any man or woman in the Oborin Order. Or in the world, for that matter.
“More can go wrong here than right. You should have studied those meridians till you went blind.”
Cassian nodded absently, his attention fixed on an axis point that kept tumbling from his fingertips, “If you’re so particular about my equations, why didn’t you shape them?”
“Because I’m not stupid.” Richter snapped. Cassian heard a long slow exhalation behind him and fought a smile.
Richter was terrified, though he’d never admit it. Gods, he was terrified, but Richter was a very different sort of man. For Richter, anger buried any emotion that didn’t lead to laughter, whiskey, or sex; and even then it wasn’t always a sure bet.
“I’d just prefer to keep my mind intact, thank you.” Richter grumbled after a sullen silence. “I hate constructs. Too many bloody variables.”
Cassian let the other man wander and talk through his nerves, offering Richter his attention sparingly, allowing himself a smile when Richter spouted that cocky bravado Cassian found so endearing.
He heard Richter cease his aimless pacing, felt Richter’s thick fingers press against his back, just where his heart hammered against his ribs.
“Too many variables.” Richter hissed. His hiss became a growl, “As you’re about to prove.”
Cassian blushed, trying to force the other man from his mind and failing. “Why are you here?” he demanded instead.
Richter’s face darkened, bravado casually abandoned. “Because I might have to kill you.”
Cassian jumped, angry at himself for reacting to the statement, even though he knew it was coming. Even though it had to be said. Even though it had to be Richter.
“We don’t know what’s going to happen, Cass. But if you’re wrong….”
Cassian swallowed, “I know.”
The sound of Richter’s sword clearing the scabbard ran ragged across Cassian’s nerves.
“Well, at least you’ll have the best run-through of your life.” Richter purred.
Lover and executioner. With Richter, those two were suddenly hard to separate.
“It’s going to work.” Cassian murmured.
“When you’ve banished the Kholod and we can get on with our bloody lives, let me know.” Richter grunted. “Now either get to it or unravel the damn thing. Much longer and it’ll just implode in your face.” He stepped closer and brushed his hand across Cassian’s cheek, “And I’d hate to see that ruined.”
Cassian ignored his Hunter and closed his eyes, allowing the construct to wrap around him.
They stood in the center of the Voralla. From this place, the Magi of old had tapped into the Apsis, where the Great Sphere of the Archanium came into direct contact with the realm of the living.
From this place, Cassian sired their salvation or destruction.
The world shifted as Cassian’s vision washed with the familiar swirling morass of the Archanium.
An endless combination of color, sound, and emotion tumbled around him. Every twisting ribbon represented a singular spell, those spells making up the vast and disparate regions of the Great Sphere. Cassian sifted through them until he found a small eddy of orange and fuchsia.
It coiled around him, danger and joy inextricably intertwined.
It was haunting.
Cassian quivered as he pulled the colors into their world, sending it into the constructed magic before him. The spell ignited, pushing the air from the room with a hollow
boom that lifted Cassian off his feet. He floated in a fraction of time, gasping for breath, finding nothing.
He glanced at Richter.
The Hunter raised his blade towards Cassian’s heart in silent response. Ebony tendrils of the Hunter’s Mantle wound around the blade’s edge, licking at the air as they reached the point, flashing crimson to their root, burning sinuously up Richter’s powerful arms.
Cassian floated for that impossibly long moment, staring into Richter’s feral coyote eyes.
The world imploded, thrusting Cassian through a pinhole of reality and into the vast expanse of oblivion. There was no light, no sound.
But gods, there was pain.
Time lost meaning in the darkness, yet he felt the immediacy of his own annihilation.
A second implosion thundered through his skull.
Cassian smashed into earth. Thirsty, unyielding earth. He rolled to his side, choking on dust, gasping to fill the void in his lungs. He retched violently, blood fountaining from his mouth. The desiccated soil drank him in eagerly.
Cassian rolled onto his back, running a hand across his mouth and greedily gulping air. He slowly became aware of the Other sky, intermittently green, yellow, and black; colors mirroring his construct. His brilliant construct. How many times had Richter warned him of the dangers?
And now it seemed Richter was right.
He winced, knowing that in the mortal world there was a very sharp sword pointed at his heart. Richter was prepared to end his life should the construct become unstable, and with good reason. Such a spell could hand victory to the Kholod in an instant if Cassian made a single misstep. Anything short of perfection allowed for the possibility of failure, and the stakes were simply too high.
His people had been enslaved by the Kholodym Dominion for over a thousand years. Using occult magics, the Kholod had bound themselves to the Archanium, manipulating the Magi like grotesque puppets. And this at the cost of the Magi’s freedom, their humanity.
Lives possessed limited value to their Kholod masters.
Cassian had escaped that cruelty, freed by a savage Magus with wild, golden eyes. Few had been so fortunate. Richter had no sooner freed him than enlisted him in the war, and Cassian had been all too eager to fight back.
Yet after years of warring with the Kholod, and with so little to show for it, a unique weapon seemed the only remaining path to victory. Something created, something unexpected. Something new that would sweep the Kholod from their world and into another.
Into this hell.
And then they instructed him to build it.
Cassian pushed himself to his feet, stumbling. He spat blood as he tried to gain some measure of his bearings. The air alone was so different in this place. Breathable, but far thinner. He tried to walk, but each step fell heavier than the last.
After a few moments to determine this Other world suitable, Cassian reached for the Archanium; to complete the construct and return to his own world as quickly as possible. To Richter and the world he wanted back, even if it had never wanted him.
The Archanium flashed brilliantly across his vision for a heartbeat before flickering out.
Cassian whimpered, reaching out again.
He gasped at the shock of failure. Every nerve in his body howled.
We are intrigued.
“Who’s there?” he called uncertainly.
Very intrigued.
And then he felt it. A presence unlike anything he’d ever encountered. A presence as twisted as the world it inhabited.
“I’m sorry if I’ve angered you.” he shouted, growing desperate. “I came here by mistake. I was just leaving.”
No.
Cassian was flat on his back, though he couldn’t recall falling. A bright, coppery film of fresh blood filled his mouth, but he felt nothing. No injury, no pain.
The air took on a disquieting drone.
Cassian felt something drool down his face. He touched his cheek and felt the blood flowing from his ears and nose.
“Please!” he begged. “Please, just let me go. I never meant to come here, I promise!”
But We are pleased with your ingress. We are lonely. We are bored. We have been hungry. You will bring Us satisfaction.
The buzzing increased to an unbearable intensity and Cassian screamed as his eardrums burst.
So delicate. So soft. We like it.
“Stop!” he sobbed, tears and blood mingling as they dripped from his eyes. His vision was fading into a rapidly reddening haze. “Gods, stop!”
Gods? We don’t let them in here. This world is Ours. But We think We like yours. We want more.
Cassian’s mind leapt at their mention of his world, “Yes! More! I’ll give you more. More, just make it stop!”
The drone deepened and Cassian felt several explosions within his skull. What was left of his vision swam as nausea flushed through him. His mouth was so thick with blood that he could hardly form words.
We like it. We hunger. We want to feed.
The words echoed in his mind even as his last thread of sanity threatened to snap, his screams reduced to a long crimson gurgle.
And suddenly he understood the nature of the voice.
It was a presence.
A Demonic Presence.
Richter kept his blade trained on Cassian as his Magus floundered in an unseen current.
The midnight shadows and yellow-green light of the construct had burrowed into Cassian’s core, piercing his body as his mind traversed the vast distance between worlds. Richter focused on the man before him. A man he’d saved a lifetime ago. A man stupid enough to be brave. A man he was stupid enough to love.
The Mantle itched.
Cassian jerked, vomiting blood across the polished marble floor. Richter stepped forward a pace and halted the point of his sword a handspan from Cassian’s chest, growling, resisting the urge to drop the blade and pull the other man’s body from the construct. In the same moment he reached into the Archanium and wrapped a shield around Cassian.
The Mantle roiled and writhed.
His shield snapped into their world and Cassian’s body jerked.
Richter’s heart pounded in his ears. For all his arrogance, these experiments troubled something elemental within him. Something primal. It felt unnatural to be toying with the Archanium like this, whatever the potential gain.
Cassian’s head snapped back as his body convulsed. The tip of Richter’s sword hovered a breath from Cassian’s heart.
And just as suddenly as the construct had swept Cassian up, the yellow-green light and swirling black evaporated. Richter’s blade clattered across the floor as he caught Cassian’s limp form, ignoring the puddle of congealing blood that soaked his trousers as he knelt, Cassian’s head cradled in the crook of his arm.
There was no pulse.
A wave of panic crashed over him. He pressed his ear to Cassian’s chest for confirmation, heard the steady flush of air into the other man’s lungs. Richter’s heart seized in his chest at the emptiness in Cassian’s.
He sent the Mantle into the Magus, but the black halted at his wrists, refusing him. Tears flooded Richter’s vision even as he dove into the Archanium, searching.
Desperate.
Cassian’s eyes snapped open and Richter froze. The Archanium washed from his vision as he stared disbelieving into the other Magus' eyes, blinking panicked tears from his own.
Yellow-green light flashed in the depths of Cassian’s gaze, but it was gone an instant later. Richter pulled Cassian closer to him, cradling the smaller man’s form delicately, as though he might shatter at any second.
“Are…are you alright?” Richter managed, fighting the unnatural feeling of having Cassian pressed against him without the familiar rhythm of his love’s heart.
A rough rumble resonated through Cassian, a pitiful half-cough, half-laugh.
“I’m alive, apparently.” Cassian managed.
Richter’s concern deepened. Cassian’s voice was still his, yet so different from the nervous young man who had invoked the construct moments before. Rather, he sounded like a man who had just been screaming for hours on end.
He pressed Cassian tightly to him for another long moment before Richter finally allowed Cassian to lean back. The smile that lit Cassian’s face melted much of the doubt, the fear in Richter. There was something undeniably different about the man who had come back to him, but the gods only knew what Cassian had seen, had experienced, while in the portal of the construct.
“Alive.” Richter repeated, deciding that this was not the moment to belabor the silence in Cassian’s heart, or the dread in his own.
“Alive.” Cassian rasped, his exhausted smile widening, “and hungry.”
Nine Years Later
“I suppose one can’t fault his bravery, even if he brought this on himself.”
Elise shot her husband a glare, “Charity. You would have him become the very monster we’re fighting. And I’ll remind you that his humanity has kept him fighting at all, derision and pronouncements of guilt aside.”
Makar turned to his wife and offered a long-suffering smile, “I’m humbled by your example.”
He embraced her, his silver wings wrapping around her thin frame protectively. She allowed the embrace to last only a moment, a moment she savored, before turning back to the most recent report; one amongst hundreds scattered across her desk like drifts of snow.
The Angelus sighed, “So what’s the word?”
“My Magi have completed their spellforms and are standing by.” she muttered as she read. “Your scouts have confirmed his position within three leagues, and Richter is guarding the Apsis, waiting to spring the trap.”
Makar grimaced, “You think him heroic, don’t you? Your feral pup and his abominations.”
“He’s done everything asked of him and more.”
“And your affection for him will only get you killed.” Makar countered brusquely. “He’s bait, Elise. That’s the only value he has now. He’s a lamb brought to the killing floor. His survival is of little importance. Ours is essential.”
The Hunter's Gambit Page 1