Ashes of Dearen: Book 1

by Jayden Woods

  *

  Picard awoke to two large hands shaking him.

  “Father’s gone! Father’s gone!” Richard roared.

  Picard thrashed against his brother, who had hold of his tunic and shook him like a rag-doll. Agony spread up his shoulder like wildfire. “Get off me!” he cried, trying to scratch Richard with his metallic fingers. But this just upset Richard further, who yanked Picard completely from the bed and then threw him to the floor.

  The ground slammed against Picard’s chest and thrust all the breath from his lungs. He remained there a moment, not moving.

  “Now will you fucking listen to me?” yelled Richard. “Father’s missing!”

  Picard groaned and pushed himself up to his hands and knees. He wiped some blood from his nose. His head was still spinning. “Richard,” he said hoarsely, “I’m listening.”

  He reached under the bed, wincing. His gloved hand groped around until it hooked a pouch of safra. Then he yanked it out and poured the dust into his mouth.

  “He told me he had a plan,” said Richard. “He said he would take care of our passes so we could stay here. But we’re not on the list, and the guards say we have to leave today. And I can’t find Father anywhere.”

  “Where have you looked?” Picard sat up and leaned against the bed. He stared groggily out the window.

  “Around,” grumbled the high chief.

  “You know,” said Picard, “Father’s probably just passed out with a maiden somewhere, dreaming of more naked women.” Something about this made Picard blink curiously. “As you should be, also. So why aren’t you? Instead, you’re all ... agitated.”

  Richard frowned back at him. “So?”

  “So ...” Picard climbed up to his feet. “Something’s not right.” With great reluctance, he looked out the window.

  Outside, a sun of bright orange rays cut through the morning frost. The rooftops of Dearen city, which alternated between thatch and stonework, gleamed as if they had just sprouted from the ground. Everything shone with a newborn dewiness unlike anything Picard had observed in Dearen. Most importantly, the sky radiated several hues of mixing colors, all of them bright and vibrant, none of them dulled.

  “Well,” said Picard. “I do believe the Haze is gone.”

  “The Haze? It’s gone?” Richard moved up and looked out the window next to him. “What does that mean?”

  “It means we’re fucked.” Picard brushed some leftover safra into his nose, then turned to his brother with a smile. “Or we’ve just stricken gold. That all depends on what we do next. Are you listening to me now, brother?”

  Richard gulped. “I’m listening,” he said.