Aemon had done more than enough for her already.
Yet, the thought of separating from him made Kara’s heart shrivel. She’d come to like him during their short time together—and in a different way to the other men she’d known. Men in her life were either clients, adopted little brothers or protectors like Mensig.
Aemon was none of those things.
She allowed herself a small chuckle. No doubt he’d see himself as her protector. Men often underestimated a woman’s ability to defend herself. Several clients in the two years she’d worked as a courtesan had learned that lesson the hard way.
Aemon was no fighter, but what he lacked in strength he made up for with intelligence and a surprising resolve to stand up for those he cared about. He’d stood up to Veladan on that first night and risked his life to find her back in the Limestone Caves. He’d even brought her back from the edge of death at the River of the Gods. Considering how short he was and small of frame, he certainly gave larger, stronger men a run for their coin in bravery.
No doubt, if Kara’s pursuers caught up to them, Aemon would stand up to them too!
She grimaced. As brave as Aemon was, they still needed to go their separate ways. He wouldn’t be happy about it, but it’d be for his own good. The artifact was her burden, not his. It might be hard splitting up, but it would be best for the both of them.
A short time later, they saw a group of people ahead of them heading toward the temple. They seemed to have not noticed they had company coming up behind them.
Kara’s hand hovered near her knife. Who were they?
Aemon slowed their pace as they drew closer to the people. Kara studied them. Some carried metal boxes, others had hoops of copper cable sitting over their shoulders, but each carried a metal staff.
“They are monks from the Order,” Aemon whispered, peering ahead.
Kara wanted to jump for joy. “Let’s see if they’ll help us.”
Aemon nodded and they raced to catch up. Kara put her hand around the artifact to hide the light. When they got close, the monks spun around, dropped their tools and cables then raised their weapons.
"Wait, we mean you no harm," Kara said, coming to a stop ten feet from them.
The monks eyed her suspiciously. A stern-looking woman with dark, short, spiky hair stepped forward. "Who are you, girl? Why are you dressed like a harlot?”
“Harlot?” Kara’s mind reeled. She wanted help, not to listen to someone call her names.
“Look at you.” The woman curled her lip and motioned her away. “Go back to whatever vile pit you crawled from.”
Kara made sure to keep the anger and disappointment from her voice as she said, “Please listen to me. We’re being hunted by a man called Kahan and a group of women who follow him. He’s dressed head to toe in black and has been after me since I was given this.” Kara held up the artifact and bathed them all in red light.
Several monks let out surprised gasps, others muttered prayers. The woman took a step backward. “Where did you get that?”
“I can explain everything once we’re at the temple. Right now, we’re being chased by black-garbed killers.”
The woman’s gaze became distant. “This Kahan you mentioned. I’ve never heard that name, but the way you describe him...” She refocused then motioned for the other monks to lower their weapons. “We must get you to the temple to see the patriarch. He’ll make sense of this.”
The monks gathered their things then formed a protective circle around Kara and Aemon. “Let’s move,” the spiky-haired woman said. They set out at a jog toward the temple.
Kara let herself relax a little. Finally she had some protection from Kahan. Now all she needed were answers.
The woman walked beside Kara and Aemon. “Tell me your names.”
“I’m Kara.”
“And I am Aemon.”
“And what’s your role in this, Aemon?”
He glanced at Kara before answering. “I got involved several days ago. We were attacked by Kahan in the Limestone Caves and a lot of people died. After we escaped, I made a promise I would get Kara safely to the temple so she could find out what it is she has around her neck.”
“What made you decide to bring her to the Order?”
“I read about the temple in a book called Ilimdalis and the Order of the Lights. The way the book describes your order made me think you might be able to help her.”
The woman scoffed, “Ilimdalis’s book paints us as fanatics and suggests we’re behind every bad thing that happens in the caverns. You should not be reading a book by a man banished into the Great Dark for blasphemy.” She studied Aemon through narrowed eyes as they walked. “Perhaps you hold the same views of us as he did.”
Oh no. Now Aemon has done it. Him and his books. Kara bit the inside of her lip. The last thing they needed was for him to accidentally insult the Order.
Aemon went to chew a nail but seemed to think better of it and lowered his hand. “Your order is good and holy. I only read the book because... ummm...” He took a breath. “I wanted to see how heretics think, so I could recognize them and report them to the Inquisitors. Heretics, they... you see—”
Before Aemon could place another cobblestone on his own tomb, Kara spoke over him. “You know our names, so what’s yours?”
The woman glanced at her then looked straight ahead, her jaw set. “Call me Meglen.”
They followed the monks until they reached the edge of a precipice overlooking a large chamber lit by a bright, fiery glow. Kara’s mouth dropped open in awe. Beyond the precipice, on an island surrounded by fire, stood what could only be the Temple of Sacred Lights.
A crenellated stone wall with half a dozen turrets circled the imposing structure. Perched atop each turret on the wall were strange machines with fingers of metal pointing upward. Arcs of electricity shot between them with loud cracks.
Yawning beyond the wall stood the imposing central temple keep, its sides sparkling with half a hundred almost blinding sacred lights, windows glittering like flames. The temple looked ancient, as ancient as the rock foundation it was built upon. A swarm of bats—a rare sight in Stelemia—flew around it, while countless others perched upside down on the cavern roof.
Kara struggled to breathe. The air of the chamber reeked of sulfur and left an afterburn in her lungs. Already she dripped with sweat and she thanked the divines for being scantily dressed. The others must’ve been sweltering in their heavy cloaks.
Wiping sweat from her forehead, Kara peered down at the fire ringing the island temple. After a moment, she frowned. It was no ordinary fire. The air above it was hazy, and the rock around it looked superheated. Could fire burn that hot?
Aemon seemed too busy gawking at the temple to notice the heat. Eventually, his eyes fell to the lake of fire and he bounced up and down like a child given a new toy. “That red stuff down there is lava! I saw an illustration of it in a book. It is said that lava is so hot it can melt stone.”
“Few not of our order see what you do now,” Meglen said. “This is our most holy place, for it is the final resting place of Ibilirith. Our temple is built over her sacred tomb.”
Aemon snapped his head around to face her. “I thought she ascended to heaven by climbing the waterfall in the River of the Gods.”
“Ibilirith did ascend to heaven. She resides there still, watching over us.”
Aemon scratched his head. “So... how can her body be entombed under the temple?”
“She is a Divine. She can be anywhere she chooses.”
“But you said she was dead. How can she choose anything?”
A horn blared, making Kara and Aemon jump. A bridge started to lower from a stone gatehouse at the edge of the island. The bridge seemed to be the only way to cross the lava.
Meglen glared at Aemon, her face dripping sweat. “Be silent, fool. If you were not with Kara, I’d have you handed to the Inquisitors for questioning.” She wiped her sleeve across her face. “For now, I’m
willing to put your lack of piety down to fatigue and stress—but don’t try my patience any longer.”
Aemon lowered his eyes, his thumb nail clenched between his teeth. Kara touched him and he glanced up at her.
She smiled. “It’s alright. We’re here now. Thank you.”
He nodded and turned away. Kara understood his confusion, though she was willing to take the Order’s contradictions at face value. After all, they were the Order of Ibilirith, chosen to represent the immortal Divine. How could their beliefs be wrong?
Hopefully, Aemon had learned his lesson and would keep his skepticism to himself, lest it wind him up in the hands of the Inquisitors. He was a good man—a little naive maybe, but certainly not a vile purveyor of heresy.
One of the monks raised his staff. “Someone approaches.”
The monks dropped their tools and snatched up their weapons. A chill ran through Kara, despite the heat.
Kahan and a dozen of the women who followed him were standing sixty feet back up the road. Heart lurching, Kara glanced up at the bridge. It was still some distance above their heads. Can’t the stupid thing lower any faster? I’m so close to reaching the temple!
Kara slowly turned back to face her pursuers. They all watched her through the eye slits of their masks. The monks guarding her were outnumbered two to one.
She clasped the artifact in pale fingers slick with sweat. It was hard to believe that after all she’d been through, Kahan had finally caught up with her at the doorstep of the very place she thought she’d be safe.
Chapter 10
AEMON
Kahan slowly walked toward them, his eyes on the glowing artifact around Kara’s neck. Aemon fumbled for his sword, his weariness overrun by adrenaline. He moved in front of Kara to protect her, the fact he had never used a sword probably apparent to everyone.
Sweat ran into his eyes, blinding him for a moment. Then his mind raced, Run! You cannot stop them. Get away while you still can.
No, I must stay and protect Kara, Aemon raged back. We have come so far. I must not let her down. I always wanted to be a hero—now here’s my chance.
Aemon swiped sweat from his forehead and struggled to silence his frightened thoughts. There was nowhere to run anyway, at least not until the bridge finished its descent.
He had to stand and fight.
Meglen took a cautious step forward. “Why are you here, Dark Brother? This place belongs to Ibilirith. Your kind is not welcome here.”
Kahan stopped and studied her with the same look he would have given a sump leach. “Step aside,” he said coldly. “Our fight is not with you or your order. I have no wish to reopen old wounds.”
“We of Ibilirith believed the scourge of your kind gone forever. Yet, here you are.”
“Your order came close to wiping my ancestors out during the Zatemneniye Voyna ,” Kahan spat. “But we hid deep in the Nether and rebuilt our order with the help of those the Inquisition exiled as heretics. Now we have returned, to save those who in times past hunted us down like vermin. We have come to save Stelemia.”
“Save?” Meglen snorted. “How are you saving anyone by coming here with murder in your hearts?"
Remembering the bridge, Aemon glanced up. Curse it all, it was only halfway down. If they could keep Kahan talking another few minutes they would be able to flee across it.
A masked woman with long, red hair spilling over her shoulders came to stand next to Kahan. Aemon’s blood chilled several degrees. It was the crazy woman from the Limestone Caves who had executed the men from the caravan. She held a javelin, her posture rigid like a cat about to pounce on a mouse.
Kahan held her back. “Stay there, Herald,” he said to the woman, not trying to keep his voice down. “We must tread carefully here. I have no desire to renew our conflict with the Order.”
Why was the woman called Herald? Herald of what?
Herald acted like a dog on a leash, eager to be given the command to kill. “No matter the cost... the half-blood must die.”
“She will. Be calm. This is a time for words, not swords.”
Kahan turned his attention back to Meglen. “You know what that young woman behind you is. She will bring an end to all life. What happened at Deep Cave is only the beginning.” He made a slashing motion with his sword. “If you do not have it in you to do what must be done then hand her over to me and I will put an end this quickly.”
“I heard rumors of what was happening at Deep Cave, a day or two ago.” Meglen shrugged. “They said there was fighting in the outer settlements, which isn’t exactly something new, given the political climate of the cavern.”
“A lot has happened in the last few days, then. The city of Deep Cave is no more, its people scattered or dead.”
“You lie. The ruling houses—”
“I had nothing to do with that,” Kara cried. “The metal beasts were the ones who destroyed the city. I was fleeing like everyone else.”
Meglen blinked. “It is true then?” She sounded off guard, as if she did not know what to think or what to believe.
“Indeed,” Kahan said grimly. “The city is in ruins.”
Meglen’s face paled, her staff slowly lowering. “Stelemia has faced threats from within and without before. Cities have burned and innocents have been slaughtered. Perhaps...”
“This was something new.” Kahan pointed at Kara with a sword. “The enemy who attacked the city is here because of her.”
Kara whimpered under her breath, “It wasn’t me. It wasn’t.”
Aemon wanted to turn around and tell her everything would be all right, but he found he could not take his eyes off the woman beside Kahan. She looked ready to hurl her javelin at any moment.
Meglen raised her staff. “It could be coincidence.”
“It is no coincidence,” Kahan said. “You know the ancient prophecy—it is sacred to your order, as it is to mine.”
“The old language is difficult to translate and much of what was written by Ibilirith in her prophecy hasn’t survived. The patriarch must meet this woman so he can decide who or what she is and if she had anything to do with what happened at Deep Cave."
Kahan glared at her. “Let me remind you of what Ibilirith wrote: ‘The soulless enemy shall return and with them the Scion who shall wear a glowing... and the Scion shall use it to unseal the wards and unleash that which must not...’ It breaks off there and ends with stating the Scion will bring an end to all life.” Kahan inched forward, Herald pushing eagerly against his arm. “You know the words, as broken as they are.”
“Do not presume to lecture me,” Meglen snapped. “I know what Lady Ibilirith wrote.” She gestured at Kara. “But this woman is coming with me into the temple and nothing you say will change that.”
Aemon had heard of the prophecy, but doubted it had anything to do with Kara. The Scion was clearly a force of evil. Kara on the otherhand, only wanted to free herself from the madness that had befallen her since the artifact had been forced upon her. When she found a way to remove it, all this would be over and she would be able to return to some semblance of a normal life.
Kahan struggled to hold Herald back. “Easy,” he said to her. “Heed my words, you of Ibilirith. Thousands are already dead at Deep Cave and many more in the other caverns will die in the days to come. The next city to fall could be the capital itself.” His voice cracked with emotion. “You and I could end the threat now. Look at what she carries. Look at it. She is the Scion of the prophecy and has come to extinguish the light of humanity and everything else that walks or breathes.”
As Meglen studied Kara, Aemon’s heart summersaulted into his throat. Her eyes were filled with uncertainty. Was she going to hand Kara over? He shook his head at her, silently pleading for her not to betray them.
Meglen’s eyes hardened and she turned back to Kahan. “Leave. Here. Now.” She touched Kara on the arm. “This woman is under our protection. The patriarch will decide her fate, not some black-clad spawn of Ibilirith�
�s traitorous twin.”
Herald pushed Kahan’s arm aside. “Enough talk. It’s time to kill.”
Kahan raised a fist and his followers took hold of their javelins. The monks of Ibilirith got into defensive crouches and raised their staffs.
Aemon shoved Kara back toward the edge of the precipice, his breaths coming in short fits. “Kara, stay behind me. I will protect you.”
This was it. They had made it to the temple minutes too late. They were going to die.
Kara said something but her words were drowned out by the beat of his heart. Perhaps he had read too many stories of heroes who had fought for those they loved, or perhaps it was nothing more than his stubborn streak, but Aemon felt ready to die for her. The fact he barely knew her did not matter. His soul compelled him. It was meant to be this way.
The compulsion was not enough to completely override the logical part of his brain as it renewed its demands for him to flee. What are you doing? it said. He should be running for his life, not standing there waiting to be impaled by javelins or skewered on swords.
His legs trembled and he had trouble standing, his bowels ready to empty themselves at any moment. Some hero you are, his mind screamed. Get out of here while you still can.
The sword started slipping from his nerveless grip. Kahan is going to kill me!
Aemon pictured Kara in his mind. She needed him, she really needed him. He liked to feel needed, especially by her. Biting down hard on his teeth and steadying his hand, he raised his sword again.
Suddenly, Kara shoved past him. “Stop this. Enough people have died already.” She focused her ire on the black-clad figures. “I’ve done nothing to any of you, yet you’ve hunted me for the better part of a week. I’d give you what’s around my neck if I could, but if I take it off it will kill me.”
“That’s because it’s bound to you,” Herald snarled.
Heir to a Lost Sun: A Caverns of Stelemia Novel Page 15