Imber

by Tyffany Hackett

  Meryn’s brow was scrunched, and a stream of words spilled from under her breath when she froze.

  “Wait . . . what did you say?” Jyn asked suddenly. He stared at Meryn, eyes wide.

  “You heard me. I’m only reading this. Do you know what this implies?”

  “It’s Elvish,” he scoffed. He leaned over to read the script between her hands. Jyn froze. “Wait. Myrdin. Do you think . . .?”

  Meryn nodded. “One would assume.”

  He dropped to his knees next to her and brushed his fingers over the words, reading further. Camion and I exchanged a confused glance.

  “Anyone care to explain?” I ventured.

  Meryn smiled. “Myrdin was the Elf who first met with the humans, when none of the others would. He was also the one who led the binding of the scepters. If this is true, and I’m translating properly, this would be an excellent indicator that we’re in the right place.”

  “You’re translating properly,” Jyn said softly. “This is madness. The Elves, my people, they don’t know where Myrdin went. His body was lost, or that’s what we’re taught. If he’s been beneath the Emberlyn Forest this whole time . . .” His throat bobbed. “Are the Elves lying to their own kind? Or are only the royals and historians privy to this knowledge? I’m so confused.”

  I stepped up beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. “I need to ask them about my magic anyway. We can find out.”

  “Should we . . . do the Elves consider opening a casket disrespectful?” Meryn asked tentatively. “To make sure?”

  “Lifting the lid would be no disrespect. As long as there’s no desecration the Elves have no problems with examining the dead.”

  Jyn stood and pulled the heavy stone. Camion stepped up to offer what help he could before they were able to make the slab budge. The scent of death drifted out, and even when I stepped back, the smell lingered in my nose. Inside, the skeleton was wrapped in the decaying remains of what looked to be fairly expensive silk. A silver and diamond circlet wrapped his brow, and a medallion rested below his collarbone near the sternum. Meryn lifted a hand and cast a light that brightened the shadows that hid the piece. Two bare trees, twisted together, a star between them. The same symbol from the door at the palace.

  “The royal symbol of Eythera.” Jyn’s voice was soft. His face raced through a rainbow of emotions—happiness, sadness, confusion . . . He flipped the medallion between his fingers and examined the smooth silver back. “He’s sitting right here. Right in the open. I don’t understand.”

  “In many cultures, leaving a grave in an open place is a symbol of respect. The Dwarves are known to do so, for instance. If that’s not the custom of the Elves, the question would be who buried him here?” Meryn gestured to the dried herbs scattered around the body. “They were certainly aware of your burial customs.”

  “Why is that symbol on the door we left through?” I asked.

  Jyn froze. “I hadn’t thought of that. Has anyone in your family ever mentioned Myrdin, even in passing? Anyone you’ve talked to?”

  I shook my head and glanced at Camion, who mimicked the gesture. Meryn shifted her weight.

  “Bit strange to be a coincidence,” she said.

  “If the historians don’t have this information, it would be of incredible value to them. If they do, I wonder what they’d be willing to do to keep us quiet. This knowledge could be invaluable when we approach the Elves about your magic,” Jyn said thoughtfully.

  “Aren’t you an Elf?” Camion asked, brows pinched. “I mean, I’m sorry. That came out crass. I mean, since you’ve been referring to them in third person.”

  “I understand,” Jyn said. He ran his finger through his hair and subconsciously tugged on the point of his ear. “Elves are trained in certain histories and magic their entire lives—unless they leave. If you leave, you’re basically an exile. Even then, the Elven historians have their secrets.”

  “So you’re exiled, you lose your magic, and you get to know nothing about your heritage?” Camion asked.

  “Yes.”

  “That seems . . . harsh.” Camion considered, unconsciously running a finger over the stubble on his chin. “You don’t want to reclaim your immortality?”

  “No. I don’t care to be stuck in Eythera for the rest of my life,” Jyn scoffed. “I trust my parents’ judgment. Or, did. Whatever reason they had for leaving might be what got them killed. I don’t have a lot of answers there, but without their decisions, Natylia’s father would have never found me.”

  “I’m sorry about your parents,” Camion said quietly. Jyn shrugged.

  “That was years ago. Things aren’t so bad now.” He cast a pointed look in my direction. “Your family will find you, blood or no.”

  The hole in my chest ached, for myself and Jyn. But he was right. The pain would fade and my family would grow in time.

  Jyn had turned back to the sarcophagus. He ran a fingertip over the circlet. When he brushed one of the stones, he jerked his hand back, swearing lightly. “The banding shocked me.”

  Meryn looked up at him.

  The suit of armor shifted to life.

  Chapter 31

  I blinked, not sure of what I’d seen, but slowly, so slowly, the armor reached behind itself and unsheathed the broadsword that hung there. The armor held the blade between both hands, tip aimed at Jyn’s chest. Meryn jumped back, barely managing to grab Jyn’s arm to yank him with her. He looked alarmed, but a moment later his blades were out and his eyes were locked on the suit.

  The armor wobbled before taking a step forward. Camion let out a low string of curses next to me. He spun his blade in his hand before he stepped forward to join Jyn, who circled the armor cautiously. The suit seemed to be tracking Jyn’s movements, turning as he looped, but then the armor swung and not for Jyn, but Camion. That heavy blade went straight for his throat. Camion dodged the blow with only the slightest wince. Again, it went for Camion. Even when Jyn began to thrust his blade into any potential weak spots, the armor completely ignored him.

  “Why isn’t the armor interested in Jyn?” I asked Meryn. I slid the bow from my back.

  Meryn tracked the suit with her eyes. She cocked her head to the side. “I can’t tell what kind of magic this uses, but since it seems to be ignoring Jyn, I would think perhaps arcane . . .” She glanced up at me. “He’s Elven, but he doesn’t have his magic. The armor was confused, but there’s still enough of Jyn’s power in his veins that it stepped away. I wonder if he might be able to control the thing.”

  The armor swung at Camion again. A loud clang echoed through the room when the attack missed, the blade slamming into the floor. The stone beneath cracked slightly. Jyn gave Meryn a look of confusion and she called out to him, “Use your given name. See if the armor responds.”

  He cast her a wary look, but Camion was the one who asked, “Your name isn’t Jyn?”

  “Not technically.” Jyn sheathed his swords and took a deep breath. “You’re sure this will work?” Meryn shrugged, and he sighed heavily, looking dubious, before he called, “I am Vaalyjyn Ayamere Herenyur of Eythera. What is your purpose?”

  The armor paused. After a moment and a long, drawn out turn, the armor shifted closer to Jyn as though observing him. Meryn used the break to creep up from behind. She blew a puff of crystalline powder at the suit, nodding to herself when the dust shimmered purple and blue.

  “Arcane,” she said as she scurried away. Jyn jumped back swiftly as the armor swung the heavy blade at him.

  He swore loudly and tugged his blades free. “You used me as a distraction?”

  “It might have worked.”

  “But you used me as a distraction!”

  Meryn grinned at me. “I wouldn’t have let the armor hurt him. Maybe. This is on you anyway, I don’t have any arcane magic.”

  “And I don’t know how to use mine.”

  “I know.” She paused to watch Jyn drop and roll under the broadsword. “Alright, try this.” I opened my hand
and she poured in a handful of powder. “Do as you saw me do. If this works, the armor should stop immediately. Think about what you want to happen.”

  “If that doesn’t work?”

  “I’m not sure.” The men were still playing keep-away and a particularly narrow dodge made me flinch. “We run? Maybe?”

  I slowly looked at Meryn, eyes wide. “I don’t like those odds.”

  “Would one of you try something?” Jyn panted, eyes narrowed in our direction. As the armor recovered from another swing, I ran closer and blew the powder from my hand. Blue and purple shimmers cascaded around the suit and slid between the small cracks. The armor turned on the spot.

  And swung for me.

  Camion grabbed my arm. I slammed into his chest before he spun me away from the suit.

  “Down,” he said firmly. He folded himself over me as the blade skimmed above us. My head swirled at the motion, but we turned to see Jyn bob in front of us.

  “I have an idea. I need its attention.” He dodged another blow before he dipped forward to shove the suit lightly. The armor wobbled and a wicked grin spread over his lips. “Get to the edge. It’s focused on Natylia.”

  Camion grabbed my hand and drew me to my feet. We sprinted for the nearest edge, the armor turning to follow. The heavy sword weighed the suit down and several moments passed before the gap between us began to close. We dashed up the side of the platform. When the armor was on the edge, Jyn rushed up and aimed a hard kick at the chest piece. Instead of trying to recover, the suit swung the broadsword again. The shift in weight propelled the armor over the side. A loud screech sounded as the blade scraped down the stone wall and then, utter silence.

  “Are you okay?” Camion asked. I pulled my eyes from Jyn who was beaming over his success. Camion’s face was lined with concern. He put a hand to my cheek before tilting my chin gently so he could examine my face.

  “I’m fine. Thank you.” I paused and glanced down. His free hand sat gingerly on his side. “Did you pull yourself open? Can I check?”

  He hesitated, but nodded. I tugged up the bottom of his shirt, careful not to lift the cloth too high. No blood showed through the bandages and although they’d slid a little, they were still mostly in place. I couldn’t complain. Jyn stepped over and offered a hand. He tugged me to my feet before he helped Camion as well, albeit slightly more gingerly.

  “Well, hopefully enchanted armor can’t fly.” Jyn stared at Meryn.

  “No, not generally. That should take care of it,” Meryn snorted. “Come on, we need to seal this.”

  They moved to replace the stone slab. I paced the edges. My head throbbed but I ignored the pressure. Every time I wanted to complain, I saw Camion wince in pain—I was fine.

  From where I stood, I counted three bridges off this platform. I wasn’t sure I wanted to imagine how many might be ahead. I moved around to the one that went straight from the head of the sarcophagus and tried to scope the room at the end, but there wasn’t enough light from here.

  “Need this?” Jyn came up behind me, torch in hand. “See anything?”

  “No. The path is too dark. I think we’re going to have to check these one at a time.”

  He nodded and turned to the others. “Should we split up? Yell if we find anything?”

  Camion and Meryn exchanged a glance and nodded before they turned to the bridge closest to them. Jyn took lead down mine, torch in hand. We didn’t even get to the end before Jyn waved me back hurriedly.

  “The end is collapsed. I wouldn’t trust this bridge as completely stable.”

  I moved, relieved to see the other two already back on the platform. Meryn shrugged and dug into her pack.

  “Another room of caskets,” Camion said quietly.

  “None of them seemed to be anything special,” Meryn added, “But there were more missing lids. And I’ve decided I really don’t like this place.”

  “Well, I guess our decision is made for us. To the third bridge,” I said.

  ***

  My feet ached and my head throbbed in agony. That third bridge had led to another large platform, another six rooms with no hint of where we were supposed to be going, and now we stood in a room of complete black. The only light came from the flame on Jyn’s torch as he lifted the light to examine the walls. Torches hung in even intervals, but not one of them was lit.

  “I’ll light two torches. If they don’t trigger anything, we’ll leave them lit. I don’t want to light them all—if there is some kind of trap, that would be the fastest way to spark the fuse.”

  Jyn lifted the torch to the wall. Flames sprang to life in the sconce. When nothing happened, he lit another across the way. Nothing. Thank Nahara.

  I dropped to the floor, leaned up against the wall, and chewed an apple from my pack. Even the motion needed to chew the apple shot little twangs of pain through my head. Camion slid down the wall next to me and stole an apple from my pack. He watched me intently for a moment. “How’s your head?”

  “I’ve felt better.”

  Camion leaned into my shoulder his breath warm against my ear when he said, “Let me know if the pain gets to be too much.”

  “I will. What about you? How’s your side?”

  “I’ve had a pretty incredible healer.” He smirked. “I’m sore, but the pain is manageable.”

  “Nothing abnormal that I can see,” Jyn said as he returned, and lowered himself on Camion’s other side. Meryn was hard at work etching runes on the ground again. “We should be safe enough but to be sure I’ll take first watch.”

  I nodded. Without argument, I pulled out my cloak and laid down, shifting several times before I stilled. My leathers were looser from wear, but I could still feel the rigidity of the floor under my side. I didn’t want to complain. I got us into this. All I could do was hope that in the end, we were doing the right thing. That this venture would save my people.

  Soft footsteps moved across the room and Camion’s warmth left my side. I didn’t know how far they went but I could make out their voices. I stilled my breathing to listen.

  “If Meryn’s right and there’s something down here, her head is a liability.”

  “I know. But she’ll never stay behind, she’s far too stubborn.” Jyn was definitely the second voice.

  “She’s in pain though. You can see it in her eyes, even if she won’t admit how much. We should really get her to a proper healer.”

  “Meryn is a proper healer.” I couldn’t tell for sure, but the bite to Jyn’s voice didn’t seem angry—defensive, maybe. “She’s running low on supplies. We anticipated this would be hard, but I don’t think she even considered the possibility of a concussion.”

  “That’s true.” Camion paused and for a long moment I thought they’d lowered their voices more. Then he said, “I’ll pick up her slack. If we get in a fight, I mean. You’re the stronger combatant, and your enhanced abilities will be invaluable. I’ll protect her. To the death if I have to. Fight with a clear mind.”

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, but thank you.” Another pause. “Get some sleep. I’ll wake you to take watch in a while.”

  ***

  “Did they search the bodies?” Camion asked me quietly. I shot him a glance.

  We were in the largest room we’d found yet, with large columns spaced throughout. Bodies littered the floor, utterly human and, likely from the lack of decay, some of the missing people from town. More of the caskets were open in here, and I cringed at the implications both in Camion’s question and the alternative. We didn’t know what had killed these men. My hand fell instinctively to my blade. The air wasn’t as stale in this room, and in the bottom of my gut I knew we couldn’t be alone.

  Beyond the medallion on Myrdin, we’d found no hint of who had buried all these bodies here and certainly no parchment records remained of what this place was. Perhaps they didn’t exist. This room in particular held a stagnant sort of silence, like the shadows lay in wait. I shivered.

  In
an instant, every door slammed shut and the torches puffed out.

  The swoosh of blades echoed through the room as each of us drew a weapon. We pressed our backs together, Meryn to my left and Camion to my right. Meryn was furiously tossing balls of light into the air to illuminate the shadows that moved across the room. The sound of stone crashing against stone echoed around us and the shadows became humanoid. Creatures climbed from the caskets—no, not creatures. Corpses, skeletons. Bodies in various stages of decay that meandered toward us in the dim light. My heart pounded against my ribs, but I took my stance. I ignored the thrum of pain at the back of my head. One of the creatures shambled closer and caught the light. No organs. We couldn’t kill these enemies with a quick thrust between the ribs, then.

  “We might be able to pry their bones loose.” Jyn’s voice was hushed. “I can’t see any ligaments on most of them, nothing to hold the bones onto the skeletons except maybe magic. The ones with flesh and muscle were likely reanimated quite a while ago.”

  Jyn pulled away from us as he sprang to attack a foe I couldn’t quite see in the shadows. A skeletal form crept for Meryn, so I went for that. I plunged my sword into the shoulder joint and tugged the hilt toward me. The arm fell to the ground with a loud crack. My head spun, but I shook off the nausea and kicked the skeleton’s rib-cage. The decaying bones shattered under the blow and the skeleton staggered back. My eyes swam from the jolt. Camion had already beheaded one of the creatures and stepped up beside me. He popped the skull from mine as the skeleton tried to drag itself after Meryn.

  “You good?” he yelled, shoving another corpse away from us.

  “Yeah!”

  Disbelief crossed his face but he had to focus. Meryn was deeply into her spell, a ring of flames that could incinerate the bones in seconds, but she had to finish the long string of words uninterrupted. Every creature around us seemed compelled to stop her. I stepped closer to her and flinched—the small shift blurred my vision. Fog crept at the edges of my eyes, but I moved. There would be time to rest later.