The Call of Ancient Light

by Ben Wolf

  “How do you like it?” Calum glowered at him.

  Jidon roared. He flailed his arm at Calum, who was ready for some sort of wild attack and backed away, and Jidon missed.

  But Calum hadn’t expected to trip over something behind him. He fell and landed on his back, and the breath almost pushed out of his lungs again.

  Meanwhile, Jidon reached for the campfire and wrenched a burning log free by its unburnt end. Embers wafted into the night air, and Jidon started toward Calum.

  Every alarm bell in Calum’s head rang loud and clear as Jidon stormed closer. Calum scrambled to get back up to his feet, to run, to get away, but the well-worn soles of his boots kept slipping on the dewy grass.

  Now looming over Calum, Jidon raised the flaming log high over his head.

  Calum shielded himself with his arm.

  Then two sets of strong arms wrapped around Jidon’s arm and kept him from pulverizing Calum.

  Burtis’s voice split the night. “Enough, Jidon.”

  The log dropped, and Burtis kicked it back toward the fire.

  Jidon twisted out of Burtis’s grip and pointed an accusatory finger as Calum hurried to his feet. “He kicked me in my—”

  “You got what you deserved.” Burtis stood neither as tall as Jidon nor as wide, but he had no trouble yelling louder. “Lay another finger on ’im again, and I’ll crack your skull. Crystal?”

  Jidon backed away from Burtis, but his steely-eyed focus remained on Calum.

  Burtis shoved him and snarled, “I asked you a question.”

  “Clear.” Jidon spat on the ground at Calum’s feet again.

  “Take a quarter of the men north. I’ll take a quarter east. Parkus will take another quarter west, and Scrim will head southeast to get the King’s soldiers.” Burtis spun around and surveyed the men in the camp. “First group to find ’im gets a double share tomorrow at breakfast. First man who spots ’im gets a whole day off. Now git!”

  The men cheered and jogged in four different directions, including Jidon and Burtis. Calum pushed himself up to his feet and started after Parkus’s group, but a glint caught the corner of his eye.

  There, on the ground next to a set of shackles near the Saurian’s post, something glimmered in the light of the campfire. Calum bent down and dug a small piece of metal from the dirt.

  A bronze ring, bent straight. One of the rings used to secure the rope to the Saurian’s harness before they lowered him into the Gronyx’s Pit.

  The Saurian had concealed it in his fist after the men hauled him back up to the surface. That’s what Calum had seen. Then the Saurian must’ve somehow used it to pick the locks on his shackles.

  A realization hit Calum’s mind, stark and bright, just like the dream he’d had only minutes ago.

  The plank at the shed. The hidden gemstones underneath. If Hardink hadn’t hidden them…

  Then perhaps the Saurian had.

  The last place Burtis and the men would look would be back at the quarry. Why would the Saurian go back there, of all places? He wouldn’t have had a reason to—unless he’d hidden those gemstones on purpose and was using them to escape.

  Calum didn’t know when the Saurian would’ve had time to stash them away, but he hadn’t been working around the giant lizard at all after the incident at the Gronyx’s pit. Maybe he’d hidden the gems then.

  Then another realization hit Calum. There would be no better time to flee the quarry than right now. With Burtis, Jidon, and the rest of the men distracted, Calum could just leave. But he would need those gemstones in order to get himself beyond Burtis’s reach.

  And if the Saurian was already going for them…

  Calum made his choice. He ran back to his tent, grabbed his satchel, tied up his bedroll, and secured both to his back. If Calum could get to the gemstones before the Saurian, perhaps he could run and buy his way to freedom once and for all.

  With only the moon and stars above, the quarry resembled a blue desert with a massive sinkhole in its center. Calum approached in silence, aware that the Saurian could be hiding somewhere nearby.

  The shed looked undisturbed, at least from a distance, but that didn’t mean anything. The Saurian could be inside or standing behind it. Or not there at all.

  Did Saurians have better hearing than humans? Could they see better in the dark? They were stronger and could regenerate after being injured, but what else might Calum encounter that he didn’t already know?

  Calum snuck toward the shed, staying low. Nothing moved. What little grass rimmed the quarry’s perimeter swayed in a slight breeze from the northwest.

  When he made it to the shed, Calum headed straight for the loose plank. He lifted it up without a sound and reached his fingers into the space beneath.

  Nothing.

  He shifted so his body wouldn’t block the moonlight, just to double-check.

  Still nothing. The stones had been taken.

  Calum’s heart sank. Should he still try to run? How far could he get without the gemstones to help him along the way? Where would he even go? How would he find food?

  Something rustled behind him.

  Calum whirled around, and a thick tree branch slammed into his side. The blow sent him careening against the shed door.

  Not a branch—the Saurian’s tail.

  Calum’s ribs ached, and he crumpled to the ground, wheezing. Why did everyone keep knocking his breath away?

  In one massive leap, the Saurian closed the distance to Calum and pinned him against the shed door with one massive hand against his chest.

  “Wait!” Calum held his hands in front of his head and sank lower against the door, struggling to breathe.

  “Do not presume to give me orders, boy.” The words flowed from the Saurian’s mouth like an angry flood.

  Calum’s eyes widened. “You—you can talk?”

  The Saurian glowered at him.

  “Just don’t hurt me.” Even as Calum said it, his gut and ribs flared with pain from the Saurian’s tail strike. He added, “Anymore.”

  “I should kill you.” The Saurian’s deep voice rasped in his throat.

  “Please don’t!” Calum almost begged, holding his hands up.

  “And why should I not?”

  “You—” Calum shook his head, his heart thundering. The only response he could muster was the truth. “You saved me today. Why would you kill me now?”

  The Saurian’s golden eyes narrowed, but he pulled his hand away from Calum, who wheezed and rubbed his aching side. He stared up at the Saurian, who rose to his full height.

  “Your life is just as worthless now as it was then,” he growled.

  In spite of his aching side, Calum pushed himself to his feet. He didn’t know which hurt more—his ribs or the Saurian’s remark. “Hey, I stood up for you today.”

  No response. With one arm, the Saurian shoved Calum aside, clearing his path to the shed. Calum tumbled into the prickly grass surrounding it, and the Saurian yanked on the old lock that secured the shed door. It ripped through the door latch and took a chunk of wood with it. The Saurian tossed them both away.

  Though the sight amazed him, Calum refused to show it. He quickly stood back up, wincing. “I said I stood up for—”

  “I heard you the first time.”

  “And?” Calum followed the Saurian inside the shed, which was now considerably darker inside at night than during the daytime.

  “And what?”

  “Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

  The Saurian eyed the tools that hung from the walls rather than making eye contact with Calum. “You are alive. According to the laws of Kanarah, we are more than even.”

  Calum raised an eyebrow. “Why did you save me in the Gronyx’s pit?”

  “Why did you bring me food earlier tonight?”

  “Because I didn’t like how the others were treating you.”

  The Saurian reached for a large pickax, one that only the strongest men in the camp could wield. Calum c
ould barely lift the thing, much less swing it, but the Saurian hefted it as if it weighed nothing.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” Calum said.

  The Saurian stopped and looked down at him. “What do you want, boy?”

  Calum blinked. What did he want? “I—”

  “If you intend to tell your friends where I am, you had better do it quickly. I will not tarry here much longer.” The Saurian strapped the pickax to his back with a leather belt and fastened a coil of rope to another belt that he clasped around his waist.

  “That’s not what I—”

  “Then what?” the Saurian snapped.

  Calum’s mouth hung open. Maybe we could… but the gems aren’t…

  Up until this point, fleeing the quarry had only been a foolish dream for Calum. The hidden gemstones, Axel’s prodding, and the Saurian’s escape had given Calum hope that maybe he’d actually be able to pull it off.

  But now the Saurian had provided a way out, a means of escape—with or without the gemstones. Whether the Saurian had taken the gems or not, he was leaving the quarry. If he could do it, so could Calum.

  “Speak,” the Saurian grunted.

  “I—” Calum’s doubts got the better of him. “I don’t know.”

  “Then get out of my way.” The Saurian pushed past Calum, heading for the outside once again.

  “I want to come with you,” Calum blurted, but he wasn’t sure he believed it.

  The Saurian stopped in the shed’s doorway. “You do not even know where I am going.”

  “I don’t care,” Calum said, his resolve growing. “I can’t stay here. Anywhere is better than here.”

  “You are in training to become the foreman of this place someday. Is that not what you want?”

  Calum frowned.

  “Do not act surprised. I am not deaf.”

  Calum shook his head. Axel had been right all along. There was nothing for him here anymore. There never was.

  “I want to go with you. I don’t want to stay here. I can’t be a—” Calum bit back the emotion rising in his chest. “I can’t be a slave anymore. Please let me come with you?”

  The Saurian stared at him for a long moment until he finally said, “No.”

  Calum’s heart sank. He’d put himself out there, tried to grab at the freedom just barely within reach, and the Saurian had snatched it away with a single word.

  Calum swallowed down his frustration. “Why not?”

  “I do not want you around.” The Saurian refocused on the wall of tools again.

  The pit of Calum’s stomach swelled with pain and emotion.

  But he wasn’t just going to give up.

  “Why not?” he pressed, his voice hardening.

  “Why do you humans ask so many questions?”

  Calum glared at him. “I don’t want to stay here anymore. I don’t want to live this life.”

  The Saurian leaned close to Calum and stared into his eyes. “I do not care.”

  Calum exhaled a long breath through his nose. Was that it? Was the conversation over?

  With one last look around the shed, the Saurian headed for the door and stepped outside.

  No. Calum refused to accept this outcome. He chased after the Saurian and added some edge to his words. “You don’t have to be so—”

  “There he is!” a man’s voice shouted, followed by a loud whoop.

  The sound stalled Calum’s words and his steps, and his heart jumped and jiggered in his chest.

  The Saurian stopped short as a group of several men, all wielding torches or tree branches, emerged from the path through the trees. Men from the quarry.

  Rather than running, the Saurian stood his ground with his fists clenched. Calum stopped just behind him.

  When he saw Jidon standing at the front of the group with a smirk on his face, Calum’s blood ran cold.

  “So it was you who helped the beast escape.” Jidon sauntered forward, and the other workers followed him. His eyes, lit only by torchlight, fixed on Calum. “You little traitor.”

  Calum’s heart pounded in his chest. He shook his head. “Didn’t have anything to do with it. I found him here only a few minutes ago.”

  “Shut your lyin’ mouth, kid. You really expect me to believe that?”

  Nothing he said to Jidon would change his mind. That much was clear. But the more Calum tried to justify himself to Jidon, the harder it would be to convince the Saurian to take him out of this place, so he decided to keep quiet.

  “I’ll deal with you later.” Jidon shifted his focus on the Saurian. “First, we got us a slave to capture.”

  The Saurian stepped into a defensive stance and pulled the large pickax from his back.

  “No.” Calum darted forward and positioned himself between Jidon and the Saurian. “No one needs to get hurt.”

  “Get outta the way, Calum.” Jidon motioned to the men behind him. They spread out and encircled the Saurian and Calum. “In fact, get in line with the other men, and help us bring ’im in. Maybe I’ll forget ’bout how you kicked me back at the camp. Maybe I’ll forget ’bout this betrayal, too.”

  “I didn’t betray anyone.”

  The Saurian huffed behind him.

  Calum bristled. He needed to fix this, needed to show the Saurian where he stood. To Jidon, he said, “But I’m not helping you.”

  Jidon shrugged and positioned the makeshift club in his hands and stepped forward. “Fine by me. Burtis isn’t here to save you this time, you little rat.”

  For being such a big guy, Jidon moved quickly. He darted forward and swung the club at Calum so fast that he couldn’t have possibly dodged the blow or shielded himself in time.

  Were it not for the Saurian, who reached past and caught the end of Jidon’s club in his huge hand only an inch from Calum’s head, Calum would’ve met his end right then and there.

  Calum blinked and staggered back, breathing frightened breaths.

  Jidon wrenched the club from the Saurian’s grasp and swung it again, but the Saurian absorbed the blow with his pickax.

  “Get ’em!” Jidon yelled.

  The Saurian swung his pickax at Jidon’s head, but he ducked under it and drove the end of his club into the Saurian’s gut.

  A worker from the left charged into the fight and swung his torch, but the Saurian sidestepped the swing. Instead, the torch hit Jidon in his bare chest amid the sound of searing flesh.

  Jidon hollered and leveled the worker with a wild thrash of his club, then he staggered back with his left hand pressed against the blackened spot on his chest. The Saurian’s tail swiped Jidon’s legs out from under him, and he landed on his back.

  Another worker charged in, this time toward Calum, swinging his club. Surprised, Calum dove to the side, rolled, and quickly sprang back up to his feet.

  The worker swung again, and Calum backed away from the swipe, then he ducked under the one that followed.

  “Catch!” the Saurian bellowed.

  Calum turned in time to see a fiery torch soaring toward him. He shifted his stance and caught it, then he used it to block the worker’s next blow. The impact rattled Calum’s fingers, and embers spurted from the torch flames and dissipated into the night sky.

  What am I doing? He’d never fought anyone before in his life. He was going to get himself killed if he didn’t think of something fast.

  The worker, a man in his forties with thinning black hair, glared at him and bared his crooked teeth. Calum had known his name once, but that didn’t matter now. He wasn’t as huge as Jidon, but he still outweighed Calum by at least thirty or forty pounds.

  Calum swung his torch at the worker’s head, but the worker blocked it with his club and threw a punch at Calum’s face. His fist connected, and pain flared through Calum’s cheek.

  Calum staggered back. He’d been struck and whipped before, but this was a real fight. The stakes were completely different, and Calum couldn’t just give in to the abuse like he normally would.

&nb
sp; This time, he was fighting for his life. And if he was going to survive, he had to do something drastic. A plan formed in his mind—a crazy plan. It probably wouldn’t work.

  But if he didn’t try it, then it definitely wouldn’t work.

  So when the worker charged forward and swung his club again, Calum went for it. He dropped to his knees under the attack and jammed the burning end of the torch into the worker’s shin, letting the fire do its job.

  The worker dropped his club and went down with a yelp, clutching at his seared leg.

  It had worked. Calum could scarcely believe it, but now wasn’t the time for cheers and celebration. The fight wasn’t over.

  Calum tossed the torch at him, fiery end first, and snatched up the club instead. Now he had a better weapon, at least.

  The worker batted the torch away before it could burn him again, and he grabbed Calum’s ankle.

  Calum had to make a choice, and he made it quickly. With one heavy swing of the club, he whacked the back of the worker’s head.

  Crack.

  The worker’s grip went slack, and his entire body went limp. Blood oozed from a gash on the back of his head, and Calum stepped back, breathing haggard breaths.

  Had he killed the man? Or was he simply unconscious?

  Either way, Calum couldn’t face the truth of it now. He was still in the middle of a fight, and any wrong move could be his last.

  With his club at the ready, Calum turned back in time to see the Saurian deliver a stunning blow to the head of another worker with his tail. Yet another went down when the Saurian drove the bottom of the pickax handle into his chin. Several more workers lay unconscious or wounded around him.

  The Saurian raised the pickax over his head to finish one of them for good.

  Calum’s eyes widened. “No!”

  The Saurian stopped and glared at him. In that moment, Jidon plowed into the Saurian’s chest, and they both went down. The huge pickax hit the ground as the two of them struggled.

  Somehow, Jidon managed to straddle the Saurian’s waist, and he delivered three solid blows to the Saurian’s reptilian jaw. The fourth punch stopped short in the Saurian’s big hand, which clamped down around Jidon’s fist.

  Jidon yelled and gripped his wrist with his free hand, but the Saurian didn’t let go, and the gut-twisting sound of crunching bones crackled. The Saurian shoved Jidon off and stood to his feet while Jidon shrank lower, down to his knees, all the while whimpering and screaming.