Four Sunrises

by J C Maynard

  ◆◆◆

  ~Hours Before

  Calleneck stopped at the end of the cold, damp tunnel. “It’s right here.” His hand felt along the wall. Hundreds of colorful flames from the Evertauri behind him illuminated the hall with a cold light. Calleneck looked at the calculations and maps in his hands.

  Madrick stood tall and menacing behind him. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” said Calleneck.

  Madrick placed his hand on the wall, letting a silver liquid-like Taurimous spread. Slowly, the wall disintegrated with large puffs of hot steam; but the heat was replaced by a cold gust of forest air that blew in from the other side, extinguishing briefly all the flames in the tunnel. Calleneck looked forward at the revealed ramp of dirt that led to the twilight surface above. Madrick motioned Calleneck up to confirm they were in the correct location. Slowly, the two walked up the ramp, emerging from a large hole between two enormous tree roots. Two hundred feet above them, the canopy of Eastern Endlebarr hung dark and still. Just west of them sat the Great Gate in the frigid winter mountains of the Taurbeir-Krons.

  Madrick smiled and headed back into the tunnel. Calleneck could hear him address the hundred Evertauri that waited in the tunnel. “The end of Xandria’s rule is at hand.” said Madrick. “We are not a large force, but the nation of Ferramoor is. The enemy of our enemy is our ally. If we take down this Gate, and enable the Ferrs to control this pass, we will be that much closer to destroying her.” A murmur swept through the rebels.

  “Target the soldiers in the supply train and only the soldiers,” he said. “We will take the explosive weaponry and invade the wall, placing it on the four main structural pillars of the gate. Our engineers will connect the fuses, then someone will light it. The supply train should arrive within a mile in the next hour. We will attack before it reaches the Gate. From then on, our navigator, Mr. Bernoil, says we will have to guide the carts through a half mile of forest. Our watchmen will notify us when it is time to engage. That is all; the rest of you have received your assignments. May your minds not falter.” Madrick, followed by the Evertauri, emerged from the tunnel to station themselves at the ready in the underbrush.

  Aunika and Dalah sat together under a fallen tree waiting for orders. A little gold ribbon of fire danced around Dalah’s fingers as she leaned close to her sister. Something obviously sat heavy on their minds; the recent events still played in their memories . . . two bodies lying still on the wood floor, flames engulfing their home. “It’s not your fault.” said Dalah; Aunika sat still. “All of us are to blame.”

  “Dalah, I’m the one who got you into this mess.” said Aunika.

  Dalah looked her in the eye. “Xandria got us into this mess.”

  “Just promise me you will be careful. I can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt. Always be analyzing your surroundings; and if you run into trouble, you know how to call for me.”

  “I’ll be fine. We’ve trained for this. There won’t be anything unexpected.” Dalah paused. “Aunika, why do we need explosives if we can break stone ourselves?”

  “The Great Gate is so enormous that it would require too much energy from us. Even if we did manage to escape the falling wall — much like a crumbling mountain — we wouldn’t have enough energy to escape the Cerebrian forces that may come after us.”

  A long silence followed until Dalah asked, “Do you think Sir Nebelle is on edge with Raelynn gone?”

  “He’s probably glad she’s headed to Ferramoor again; he doesn’t want to lose her like Shonnar. But the stories of what she is capable of doing lead me to think her absence is hurting our chances.” A dim silver glow spread throughout the nearby underbrush . . . it was time. The sisters stood and ran to the origin of the light, Nebelle, around whom the Evertauri gathered.

  Calleneck spoke quietly to Borius, showing him charts and drawings of the Gate that spies had collected. “. . . all the way to this side, where the other doors are. If we can split this team into two groups, we’ll have a better chance of reaching it in time. The difficulty lies in the actual design; we would have to run the fuse in between floors six and seven.”

  “But that can be done, correct?” said Borius.

  “If we have our engineers work on the explosives in the wagons while we take them from here to the Gate, then yes. But that is assuming we take out every guard and there are no Cerebrian reinforcements. If there’s little opposition, we’ll just have to hurry and blow the thing. But once it ignites, no one in the wall will survive.”

  “Then we will try our best to evacuate. Thank you, Mr. Bernoil.” Borius began to leave.

  “Sir Shipton, if I may.” said Calleneck. “With an infiltration of this scale, won’t our secrecy be compromised? Won’t Xandria know?”

  “It is the extent that she knows that matters, Mr. Bernoil.” said Borius. “After tonight, she will either conclude that it was the work of Ferramish special forces, or a rebel group. If she concludes the latter, she will likely not know how we did it. We have also put steps in place to make her think that a rebel group may be located in Gienn, not right underneath her own city. But she will not learn our secrets. At this point, fear of what she does not know or understand is her greatest weakness.”

  “Thank you for your work, Mr. Bernoil. I must go.” Borius left to speak with Madrick as Kishk approached Calleneck.

  “You’ve done well,” he said as more Evertauri gathered.

  Calleneck turned as pale lights circled the Evertauri from a distance. “What are those lights?” he asked.

  Kishk turned around. “Those are the nymphs of Endlebarr. They do not think highly of us; they believe our sorcery is stolen, impure, and dark. They are pacifists and won’t hurt us, but we bring war to their home, so they have a right to watch us.” The pale lights flickered in and out of sight, then vanished altogether as the Cerebrian supply train approached.

  Madrick silenced the Evertauri, and motioned forward. The noise of wagons moving through the underbrush signaled the Evertauri to move forward. The hundreds of Evertauri stationed themselves behind bushes and trees next to the Road of Endlebarr which was now overgrown to the point where it resembled only a footpath.

  In a matter of minutes, the train of covered wagons reached the Evertauri. Each of the fifty wagons was pulled by two horses flanked on each side by six guards. From behind a bush, Borius conjured thousands of little floating specks of yellow light above the whole train, causing the Cerebrian soldiers to stop their wagons. All of the soldiers looked up at the little stars floating above them, murmuring to themselves. All together, the thousands of lights vanished, signaling every Evertauri to spring forward. Calleneck burst out of a bush and sent a jet of crimson flame into the eyes of the six soldiers nearest him. Crying out in pain, the blind soldiers flailed as Calleneck used his Taurimous to finish them off. In thirty seconds, every Cerebrain soldier in the train and just two Evertauri lay injured ground.

  Tallius, along with four other boys joined Calleneck at his wagon. They quickly put on the dark green armor of the Cerebrian soldiers and whipped the frightened horses forward. The Evertauri gently led the explosive wagon train west, ready to infiltrate the Gate.

  Seeming to cross a supernatural boundary between spring and winter, Calleneck’s wagon emerged from the forest and instantly slowed on the five inches of fresh snow. A large white hill led up to a giant black wall of stone. Remembering seeing this wagon train, Calleneck strained to see any sign of the Phantoms on the snowy mountain to the south; but it was all a blanket of white and the falling snow hindered his vision. Looking ahead, as he walked in the snow, he sighed when the first wagon went through the Gate, even though he had already witnessed everything that was to come in the next few minutes. About halfway through the train, Calleneck’s cart was just three behind Borius’s, the designated attack cart.

  Nearly half of the wagons were already through the Gate when the attack cart stopped for inspection like every other and Calleneck held his breath. Gian
t doors on either side of the archway allowed soldiers to get in and out of the wall. A Cerebrain guard stepped up to ask for Borius’s papers and Borius released an enormous explosion of yellow Taurimous, killing every guard at the bottom of the Gate. Hundreds of Evertauri jumped from the wagons and ran toward the Gate, while others moved the carts of explosives into the wall.

  Calleneck sprang forward and ran with Tallius through the snow while the four other boys whipped the horses forward. Bells chimed from the top of the wall and arrows began to zip through the air. Dozens of floors of weaponry and food storage filled the wall; the boys approached one of the four main columns by which it was held up. Taking the cover from their wagon, they began to stack the boxes of explosives around a column that stood in hundred foot foyer similar to the nave of a cathedral. Each column had branches connecting each floor to help hold the interior of the wall.

  Hundreds of Cerebrian soldiers funneled down the main staircases and through the halls as the Evertauri smashed through the main doors with sorcerers and wagons. Tallius looked at Calleneck. “You ready?”

  Calleneck put his hand on Tallius’s shoulder. “Always.”

  The two ran toward the staircase sending jets of crimson and sapphire flame at the Cerebrian soldiers who screamed in terror at the sight of magic, glowing fire. More and more Evertauri filled the corridors of the wall.

  “Tallius!” shouted Calleneck. “That door has a staircase behind it; take it up to the fifth floor and clear a path to this column! I’ll take this one!” Calleneck flung himself through a door and up the staircase. Stopping on the fifth floor, he ran out into a mess of Cerebrian guards. Disguised as one of them, they had no time to react before he sent a disc of light flying outward, slicing their torsos as with a knife. An excruciating pain shot through his right shoulder and he looked to see an arrow jutting out of his skin and armor. Another arrow shot passed his ear and he hurled a weak fireball at the two remaining soldiers. Crawling behind a stone pillar, he tried to pull the arrow out of his shoulder, but it was caught on his armor. Unlatching straps, he pulled off his armor, freeing the arrow, leaving himself in only his Evertauri cloak. No more blending in.

  Calleneck looked at the giant column and noticed an open staircase on the other side. Higher is better, we need to secure it from the top, he thought as he ran along an open balcony toward it, trying not to move his arm. The wind from the blizzard pelted ice against his face as he sent a shower of swirling light toward a group of soldiers, knocking them off the wall and into the blizzard.

  Rounding the corner, he bounded up the spiral staircase. A blur of black flashed in front of Calleneck and he instinctively blew it back with a blast of crimson. The black thing turned into a cloaked figure that reached back to grab his sword. A memory of that moment flashed in his head, and knowing Tayben’s next move Calleneck coated his good arm and hand in a protective flame and caught the Phantom’s sword as it came down with the force of five men, sending a shock of pain through his hand. Calleneck heated the flame in his hand; he could barely feel the sword’s sharp edges. The metal grew orange, then red, and began to bend.

  Calleneck looked at the horrified face of himself as Tayben, enraged like never before at the disgusting things that he, himself had done in support of Cerebria. The sword began to melt as he shouted the one word he could think to describe his inner turmoil, “TRAITOR!” Calleneck let go of the sword and struck his fist into Tayben. A blinding light flashed in his eyes and a severe pain hit his stomach as he looked into the face of Calleneck. Struck back into Tayben’s consciousness, the Phantom fell off the staircase, landing hard on a beam of stone below.

  Firestorm

  Chapter Twenty Five

  ~Night, November 4th

  Prophet Ombern sat on his balcony of the Great Cathedral overlooking the starlit city of Aunestauna. The Cathedral sat near the base of the Palace hill like a guard tower. Decorated in stained glass and gargoyles, it cast ominous shadows in the moonlight.

  In his chair, Ombern stroked his long white beard and peered out west toward the inlet where he thought he saw a little beam of light flicker on the watery horizon. Another light appeared, then vanished. Tapping his foot, he watched a carriage on the street below. He scratched his palm . . . Tap . . . Scratch . . . Flapping flag on the building across the street. Two horses on the street below. Tap . . . Scratch. His palm began to bleed and his heart pounded.

  “Prophet?” Ombern jumped at the sound of his name. A relatively young priest stood behind him in long white robes and a scarlet hood. “Prophet, are you alright sir?”

  “Yes, yes, fine, very fine.” said Ombern as he gazed absentmindedly into the distance. He stopped digging his nail into his palm but continued to tap his foot. Ever since the key had been stolen from his drawer, he wondered tirelessly who had access to the beasts beneath the Palace and if they had found them.

  The priest looked worried, and asked the Prophet, “Can I get you anything, Prophet? You seem troubled.”

  Ombern furrowed his eyebrows. “A glass of wine.” he said.

  “Red or white?” said the priest.

  “Red.” Ombern glanced back, noticing the priest was new.The priest exited the balcony and came back a minute later with a glass of wine. “Our best, your honor.” The priest handed the glass to Ombern with a four-fingered hand.

  “Ah,” said Ombern as he sipped, “the Great Mother’s elixir never disappoints.” He took another sip, but then coughed some of it up on his clothes.

  “Your honor, are you well? Your face is blue.” Ombern’s hands shook, dropping the glass. The prophet fell off his chair to the floor of the balcony, coughing in a fit and slamming his fist. The priest stood back and smiled, fixing his hair with his four-fingered hand. The Prophet stopped coughing, and his eyes rolled back. The priest smiled and unbuttoned his collar, revealing a snakebite on his neck. Riccolo knelt down and whispered to the twitching Prophet, “Stupid, old man.” Ombern’s eyes closed and he lay still, heart stopped. Riccolo walked silently out of the cathedral, passing a dead, young priest with missing robes.

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  Queen Eradine held a quill in her hand as she looked out her window at the glowing city of Aunestauna. She watched two figures, her sons, walking together on a far off stone bridge. She sighed and smiled, but her eyes were weak as she wrote on a piece of parchment.

  Dear Tronum,

  While your absence is crucial to the war effort, many things have changed here that may not be to your liking. Our sons are making tremendous strides for the kingdom; you should be proud of them. Eston, primarily, has taken charge of operations to help Ferramoor and your efforts, so please do not think poorly of him. They are both more capable than you realize, and with your condition, we both know the truth about how long you have left. I cannot rule without you, so that responsibility will lie on them. All I ask is for you to trust them.

  Love, Eradine

  Eradine opened the window and handed the note to a large gray bird, the Royal Messenger Bird, who grabbed it in its claws and took off in the night air toward the north. Sitting back in her chair, she flinched when a hand slid over her mouth.

  ◆◆◆

  Fillian knocked on Eston’s door and entered with a stack of parchment. “Eston,” he said, slamming the requested parchment down on his desk, “you must give it a rest. How many trade reports have you read since dinner?”

  “Probably over fifty,” answered Eston, beginning to organize the papers.

  “Great Mother! Eston, Ferramoor isn’t going to collapse in a night. Every government member is barely getting any sleep because of us . . . well mainly you. Father is going to have our heads just so you know. You can take a break.”

  “That would make me a hypocrite.”

  Fillian shook his head. “Seriously, Eston. You’ve done a fine job. Just take a walk with me or something . . . come on.”

  Eston reluctantly stood from his chair and followed Fillian.

  Reaching the large
stone bridge between the west and south Palace wings, the princes stopped and leaned on the railing. Fillian looked down a hundred feet to a courtyard below. “Bet I can spit farther than you this time.”

  Eston raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “How old are you?”

  “Oh come on.” said Fillian. “No one’s around.”

  Eston stared at Fillian and slowly smiled. Gathering saliva in his mouth, Eston spit a white ball that soared out to the courtyard below.

  As Fillian spit, an ocean breeze blew his little glistening ball twice the distance of Eston’s.

  “I’ll give that to you, since it’s the first time you’ve won since two winters ago.” said Eston

  Fillian chuckled. “Whatever.”

  Eston took in a deep breath of the cold ocean air and looked up at the silvery moon. A few snowflakes drifted down from the sky and landed in the princes’ curly hair. “It’s so peaceful tonight.”

  “Aye,” said Fillian, “There aren’t even guards on this bridge.”

  Eston laughed. “There probably should be.”

  Fillian bit his lip. “Say, wouldn’t the bells from the Luxeux be ringing just about now? It’s midnight.”

  “Hmm. You’re right.”

  The city of Aunestauna was bustling and brighter than usual, while the Palace grounds stood still. Fillian analyzed the Palace. The princes watched the dark water of the inlet. Far in the distance, a fleet of Ferramish ships slowly made their way across the waves toward the port. Scarlet banners waved on each of their four masts, and the water slapped on their edges.