Dreaming in the Dark: Chains of the Fallen Volume 1 (Soul Force Saga Book 4)

by James E. Wisher

He hit the ground, bounced, tumbled, and finally stopped when he hit the side of an old oak. Jen had her sword at his throat in a blink. Alec, Talon and Edward joined her seconds later.

  “Sorry, Commander,” Edward said between gasps.

  “Don’t worry, we weren’t expecting warlords.” Jen flicked her wrist and the razor edge of her sword sliced his sleeve to the elbow revealing the tattoo underneath. Five stars in a pentagram formation around the dragon head. “At least we got the right guy.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Damien groaned. Two days of near endless work had passed, but they finally completed the last of the defenses. Each night, if the word even applied to an underground society, they roasted giant crickets. The meat tasted far better than it had any right to. It wasn’t steak, but Damien had eaten far worse over the years. You just had to put the fact that you were chowing down on an oversized bug out of your mind. After the evening meal, a Builder changed the bandage on his wound before he settled in to grasp a few hours’ sleep.

  Damien had barely closed his eyes when Dahlmis came and shook him awake. “The heretics are coming.”

  Damien rushed to his position at the main entrance and joined the Builders on guard duty. That was twenty minutes ago and now he stood on the ramparts with six Builders ready to repel whatever monsters came their way.

  He’d expected some kind of an update from the dragon, but maybe Damien wasn’t worthy enough now that he’d done his job and broken the wards.

  Maybe Dreamer has nothing new to tell you.

  That was certainly possible. Only a couple of days had passed since Damien broke the wards. Even for a dragon, that would have been quick work. Well, when Dreamer had something to tell him, no doubt the dragon would do just that. In the meantime, Damien had another job to do.

  One of the Builders, a female with broader shoulders than most of the men, tugged on his tunic and pointed out into the tunnel.

  Damien stared and sure enough, a handful of glowing red eyes stared back. He’d seen enough goblins in the dark to recognize them. He drew Lizzy and leveled her at the gathered enemies.

  Time to find out how tough these things were.

  A sphere of gold and gray soul force appeared at the tip of her blade and grew until it was the size of his fist. Damien didn’t want to use too much power lest he bring the cavern down on their heads.

  The sphere streaked out and exploded in the midst of the gathered goblins.

  Bodies flew every which way, though most remained in one piece.

  Glowing globes streaked in to reveal the damage. He’d killed two out of a dozen with a blast that would have taken out a company of regular soldiers. Not a fantastic result, but good enough to give him hope that his sorcery wouldn’t be a total waste of time.

  The surviving goblins pulled themselves to their feet and hissed at the lights. One of them leapt, but Damien had learned from their reaction to his spy bug and moved the sphere out of striking distance.

  The black goblins bared their fangs and charged toward the wall.

  They didn’t bunch again, forcing Damien to blast them one at a time.

  His first energy lance shattered on the goblin’s scales.

  Spears of stone shot up out of the floor as the Builders got into the fight.

  Even needle-sharp granite slipped off the little monsters’ armor. Five of them accelerated to near warlord speed.

  They were so fast the Builders couldn’t hit them.

  In the blink of an eye they reached the base of the wall and started climbing like spiders. Damien conjured a web of soul force and snagged them.

  For a second anyway. Their claws shredded the net as fast as he conjured it.

  “Hit them while they’re still! Give it all you’ve got!”

  The Builders all conjured together and hands of stone grew out of the stone and grasped the goblins. Their claws scratched gashes in the stone, but they failed to shred it the way they did his net.

  They affect pure soul force differently than shaped material.

  That was good. Damien could use that.

  The hands squeezed, crushing the goblins to pulp.

  The rest of the monsters reached the base of the wall while the defenders were busy. Damien leapt off the wall and soared down toward them.

  Lizzy slashed one in half, took a second’s leg, and beheaded a third. Stone spears shot out and sent the rest tumbling to the floor.

  Damien blasted them hard enough to shake the floor. Scales shattered and bodies burst leaving little but scraps behind.

  He landed beside the Builders who were smiling and clapping each other’s shoulders. He accepted a few congratulatory slaps on the back, but Damien didn’t share their good mood. That hadn’t been a real attack, more like a probe. The heretics wanted to see what the defenders had in store for them. Those were probably the weakest soldiers in their army.

  The Builders all fell silent as one and cocked their heads. A few seconds later they rushed off the battlement.

  “Wait!” No one paid his shout any attention. “What are they doing?”

  A telepathic message came in. The second wall is under attack.

  “That’s the other defenders’ job.”

  The message felt panicked.

  “Even so.”

  A moment later he felt something powerful approaching from down the tunnel. The vibration from a heavy tread ran through his boots and up his spine. Something big was coming.

  The vibrations grew louder until a figure so big it nearly filled the tunnel mouth appeared. The giant stepped out and faced the wall. It was one of the mutant ogres. Scales the size of armor plates covered its chest, upper arms, and thighs. Its fists had knobby bone spurs jutting from them. Damien didn’t want to get hit by one of those.

  He was so focused on the giant he almost missed the wizened figure near its feet. One of the rogue Builders had tagged along. It was the one with the tail he’d seen earlier. If Damien could take out one of the leaders, that would go a long way towards ending this war.

  The ogre roared and charged the wall. The brute’s head reached nearly halfway to the top. Its right fist drew back and hammered the stone.

  Damien had to take to the air to avoid falling on his ass. Many impacts like that and the wall would be nothing but gravel. Some Builders to reinforce the defenses would’ve been nice, but he was on his own.

  The heretic would have to wait. Damien sent a blast of soul force at the ogre’s face.

  His attack burned its eyebrows off and seared its skin.

  The ogre roared and flailed its fists.

  Looked like that hurt but the blast didn’t cause any real damage. He needed to get up close and personal.

  Sending power to his shield, Damien flew off the wall and streaked toward the ogre.

  A giant hand swatted at him.

  He dodged and slashed a deep gash in the passing wrist, drawing another roar.

  The Builder is trying to calm the creature.

  “Can you stop him?”

  No, not without lowering the defenses around your mind.

  Cursing his lack of options, Damien dove back at the ogre. He needed to land a decisive blow and the sooner the better.

  He went straight at the monster’s eye. The lid snapped down, but Lizzy sliced through it with ease.

  Damien buried her up to the hilt. The eye exploded, showering him with jelly.

  The ogre’s head snapped back, sending Damien flying.

  It roared and grasped its oozing eye socket. The good eye glared at Damien.

  He glared right back. It would take more than a one-eyed ogre to scare him.

  Watch out!

  Too late.

  A stone spear slammed into his back and drove him into the ogre’s free hand.

  Huge fingers exerted massive pressure, forcing him to increase the strength of his shield to get room to breathe.

  Are you okay?

  Damien grunted. Okay might have been a stretch.

&n
bsp; He drew deep from his core and expanded his shield out from his body, forcing the fingers apart. The instant he had room he slammed Lizzy into the monster’s palm and released a blast of soul force.

  Flesh, skin, and bone exploded outward. The ogre’s arm vanished from the elbow down.

  It staggered back.

  Damien flew in, drove Lizzy into its good eye, and released another blast. Its head exploded in a burst of gore.

  The ogre’s body crashed to the floor. Damien spun, ready to deal with the Builder, but it had fled.

  “Damn it!”

  He extended his senses up the tunnel but detected nothing. He’d survived this wave at least. Once he’d landed on the rampart, Damien slumped down and blew out a sigh. The heretics had at least three more of those ogres. Hopefully when the next one showed up he’d have a little help dealing with the brute.

  After a nice five minutes of rest, Dahlmis and a handful of his kin came running up the rampart. Better late than never.

  “Are you okay?” Dahlmis asked.

  Damien gave him a thumbs up. “What happened on the other wall? My backup suddenly took off.”

  “A pack of blind wolves came at us out of nowhere. It was nothing my team couldn’t handle, but their panic raced like lightning through our link. The others felt it and came running, fearing the situation was worse than it was. I’ve explained their mistake and it won’t happen again.”

  “That’s good. Any thoughts on what we should do with the giant corpse half blocking the tunnel?”

  Dahlmis looked over the wall then back at Damien. “You killed a destroyer on your own?”

  “Yeah. I’m glad the Ice Queen doesn’t have any that big. We have enough trouble with the smaller ogres.”

  Dahlmis shook his head. “I’m glad you’re on our side. As for the body, leave it where it is. If the heretics want to attack again, let them crawl over it.”

  Damien grinned. “I like that plan.”

  His good mood lasted only a moment. The enemy would be coming again. He had no doubts about that. The only question was how soon.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Jen’s prisoner came awake halfway back to Drevlin. He didn’t move, but Jen detected a faint change in his pulse and breathing as he bounced along on Edward’s shoulder. At least the fool didn’t try and run or fight. They’d collected ten daggers of various lengths hidden in the folds of his clothes. Three of them glistened with a dried substance she figured was poison. If he gave her any more trouble, she’d poke him with one and see if he healed as fast as he ran.

  “You can stop faking,” Jen said. “I know you’re awake.”

  The collector opened one eye and glared at her. “You’re dead, you know that right?”

  “So I’ve been told. You’re not in a very good position to make threats, you know that, right?”

  He gave a weak shake of his head. “I’m not making threats. If I’m not back with the month’s collections the bosses will send people a hell of a lot worse than me to find out why.”

  “Funny you should mention your bosses,” Jen said. “That’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about. Where can I find them?”

  “You think I’m stupid enough to tell you anything? Dream on.”

  Jen shrugged. “You know the best thing about torturing a warlord? You can do it for days since they heal so fast. Better yet, our sorcerers can fix it so you can’t switch off your pain receptors. Maybe you’ll talk and maybe you won’t, but either way, I’m going to make you wish you’d never come to the kingdom.”

  The prisoner remained silent the rest of the way back to town. Whether he doubted her word or truly feared his masters more than her, Jen didn’t know. When they reached the saloon, she left the guys to tie him up — there were tricks to restraining a warlord and they learned them all at the Citadel — while she went to talk to Rhys.

  Jen found him seated at the bar in the empty saloon nursing a beer. Beside him rested a stack of bulging pouches. The bodies were gone, but patches of nearly dried blood remained.

  “Tell me,” Jen said.

  Rhys grunted. “We’re in the wrong business. I counted five hundred gold royals before I got bored. Their weapons are well made and of an unfamiliar style. Maybe something they’re forging in the Bandit Kingdom. There was a big sack of those nasty mushrooms in one of the saddlebags. Probably another five hundred royals’ worth according to our host.”

  “I don’t suppose there was a map to their hideout?”

  “’Fraid not.”

  That would have been too convenient. “Tattoos?”

  “Four stars around the dragon head. What do you think that means?”

  “No idea. The third guy had a five-star tattoo so it’s probably a way of distinguishing rank.”

  Rhys nodded and the others came in dragging the neatly trussed collector behind them. Time to check his self-control.

  “Do we have a map?” Jen asked.

  Everyone looked at Rhys who sighed and dug a rolled-up parchment out of his satchel. He unrolled it on the bar and pointed at Drevlin. Jen studied it for a moment. Assuming the money collectors’ route continued north, the most likely towns were Jayhawk and Simonsville.

  Jen moved to stand directly over the prone collector. “Where are you going next?”

  He stared silently.

  Well, it couldn’t hurt to ask. “Is it Jayhawk?”

  No reaction.

  “Simonsville?”

  Ha! The faintest increase in his pulse. Lucky for her there were some things you couldn’t fully control without the proper training. It made her job much easier.

  “Simonsville it is.”

  “What are we going to do with Morg and this guy?” Edward asked.

  Jen frowned. They couldn’t drag prisoners around and there was nowhere strong enough to hold them in this part of the kingdom. Jen didn’t like making these sorts of decisions, but she had the authority.

  “We’ll kill them and bury all four bodies. Rhys, Edward, and Alec, you’re on graves. Find somewhere at least half a mile out of town. Talon, grab Morg. I’ve got this one.”

  The others vanished to get started and Talon said, “I can do both, Commander.”

  Jen shook her head. Much as she appreciated the offer, this was her responsibility and she wouldn’t foist it off on someone else. “Let’s move.”

  They collected a trussed-up Morg from the storage room and marched them both out of the saloon and towards the edge of the nearby woods. The guys had left a clear trail for them and ten minutes later the thump of shovels filled the air.

  The others had the graves dug and the guards in the ground. All that practice rebuilding the capital paid off.

  Jen positioned her prisoner at the edge of the rightmost hole. Talon put his on the left. Morg struggled and let out a few muffled shouts, but it did him no good. Talon glanced at her and raised an eyebrow.

  She nodded. Quick as that his twin swords flashed and Morg’s head tumbled into the hole followed by his body.

  Her turn. Jen had killed plenty of people over the years, but this would be her first execution. That she’d given the order made it harder.

  Her sword came out and she moved a step back to take a better swing.

  “Wait!” the collector said. “I thought you wanted information.”

  “I did, but you said you weren’t going to talk and I believe you. Perhaps your contact in Simonsville will be more forthcoming. If not, we’ll move on to the next town. And the one after that. We’re either going to find someone willing to talk or we’re going to kill every Dragon member in the kingdom. Now, do you have something to tell me?”

  He looked up at her. “See you in Hell.”

  Her sword fell and he tumbled into the grave. Ten minutes of shovel work and the bodies were buried.

  “Let’s go,” Jen said.

  No one spoke as they walked back to collect their horses. Jen wasn’t sure if the guys were uncomfortable after watching her execute a man
or if they had something else on their minds. Whatever the reason, she didn’t mind the quiet. It gave her time to think.

  What sort of group inspired such fear and loyalty that a member would die before telling their secrets? She’d never heard of that in a criminal gang. Usually a sword to the neck got them talking so fast it made your ears hurt. And what was the deal with the stars? Someone with ten had to be at or near the top of the organization so what was he doing at an inn with an ogre? And last but not least, what did the actual dragon have to do with these criminals?

  So many questions and so few answers.

  “Are we really going to travel from town to town hunting these Dragon guys down?” Alec asked.

  “You got something better to do?” Rhys asked.

  “Of course not, but it seems like we ought to be able to find a better way to draw them out, you know, make them come to us.”

  “That’s a stu—”

  “Alec, that’s brilliant,” Jen said, cutting Talon off in mid-sentence.

  “It is?” Talon and Alec said at the same moment.

  “Remember the threats Morg and the other guy made? There must be agents waiting to meet them. When we show up instead, make it clear we dealt with the Dragons in Drevlin, and spread a little of their gold around, someone will carry our message to the higher-ups.” Jen’s excitement grew as she spoke. “When we reach the outskirts of Simonsville, Talon, you hang back and watch the town. Sooner or later, someone will take off like I kicked him in the ass. Tail him. When you know where their base is come back for us. We’ll give the bastards a surprise they won’t soon forget.”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  For three days after their encounter with the zombie horde, Marie-Bell and Imogen flew southeast without encountering a thing. Even the weather had been pleasant, or pleasant for the Haunted Lands. They had to be getting close to the palace by now, assuming Marie-Bell’s estimates of their direction and travel time weren’t wrong.

  “Is it me, or is it weird that we haven’t seen a demon in three days?” Imogen asked.

  “It isn’t you. With us using our soul force, and with the aura from my armor, we should be swamped with demons. Still, it’s not the worst problem.”