Heir to a Lost Sun: A Caverns of Stelemia Novel

by Riley Morrison

  They followed the river until they reached a large limestone shoal. “This is it,” Erinie said.

  They began the climb, single file. The ascent wouldn’t have been difficult for Kara, except she was engaged in a life-or-death struggle to hold the fabric of her mind together. She lost herself for a moment and when she came to, she was falling.

  Slamming into Minard, she knocked him from the rock and they both fell back into the icy river. She landed on top of him, driving him under. Pushing away from her, he resurfaced, gasping for air.

  The other three had stopped climbing and watched them. Minard put a hand to his chest. “Damn you, scion. You landed on my ribs.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Wincing, the monk staggered to his feet and held his hand out. “You look distracted.” He narrowed his eyes. “Are you alright?”

  Fear, colder than the river, coursed through Kara’s heart. She was too close to the Metal Man to let the monk question if he needed to kill her or not. She took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. “I’m just tired and in a lot of pain.” Teeth chattering from the cold, Kara retrieved her walking staff. “I’ll make sure I don’t fall this time.”

  Minard took his equipment from his back and carried it under one arm. “Climb on and wrap your legs around my waist, and I’ll carry you up.”

  She hopped on without argument. The monk shivered, his robes heavy with water. Wrynric threw a rope down and he and Aemon held onto it as Minard climbed the shoal.

  When they reached the top, Kara dropped off the monk’s back and hugged herself. All five of them were drenched, but they didn’t have time to light a fire and dry off. The Metal Man waited.

  Our pursuer is in the river. You must run. He will kill you and doom us all.

  The terror in the voice made Kara’s heart palpitate. The feeling felt like fingers running down the inner side of her ribs. When the sensation passed, she felt a moment of dizziness. Then it was gone and she started running down a concrete corridor into Annbar.

  The door leading to the Metal Man was close—but the man chasing her was closer.

  Kara's companions called after her but their voices were lost to her panic. She’d gone one hundred feet when someone grabbed her from behind. “Scion, slow down. What are you doing?”

  It was Minard.

  She struggled against him, her voice a panicked shriek. “Let me go; he’s here. He’s coming to kill me.”

  The monk held onto her as the others caught up. Wrynric gave her such a look of disapproval she waited for him to slap her across the face. Instead, he clenched his hand around his sword hilt.

  Run!

  Kara tried to break free. “He’s here. Let me go. Let me go!”

  Wrynric and Erinie stared into the darkness behind them. “There’s nothing back there, scion,” the librarian said.

  The old man’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps she is right. She warned us of the jamalgana and the rotmen before they could kill us in our sleep.”

  “Let me go, let me go, let me go,” Kara cried.

  Wrynric gave Minard a hard look, his eyes glittering in their veil of shadow. “Monk, I know we’ve had our differences, but...” He sighed. “I must leave Kara in your care. I beg you not to hurt her, for she will end our exile and save the human race.”

  The monk blinked. “You... what? Is this the only way?”

  Wrynric nodded grimly.

  Minard stared at him for a few seconds, then pulled Kara closer. “Then I vow I’ll get her to where she needs to go. If she proves to be what you think she is, I’ll stand by her until the end. That’s the best I can offer you.”

  Wrynric bowed his head. “That will have to do.” He faced Kara, his mouth forming into a sad half-smile. “Goodbye, dear Kara. Make good your destiny and save humanity from the darkness.”

  Kara didn’t understand what was happening. The terror building within her made all else a blur. “Come on, please. We need to get to the Metal Man.”

  Erinie embraced the old man and cried into his shoulder. “Don’t leave me. What if... what if she’s—”

  Wrynric gently pushed her away. “I’ll kill her. I must do this to buy you time.”

  Erinie ran her fingers through his beard, her lips quivering. “May the Lost Sun watch over you, brave warrior. My father, my friend.”

  Removing a gold coin from inside his doublet, Wrynric kissed it, then passed it to Erinie. “I give my mark to you for safekeeping. If you ever return home, find Arden and Liana’s, bring them to the Cauldron and forge them together as one.”

  Coin in hand, Erinie sank to her knees and held it to her heart, her body racked with sobbing. Wrynric went to Aemon and placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. “I’ve seen you grow into a man and am proud to have fought by your side. Now, you must take all you’ve learned and watch over Kara until her task is done.”

  Aemon murmured something, then lit a torch and handed it to Wrynric. The old warrior gave them all one last look, then turned his back to them. Drawing his sword, hefting his shield, he planted his feet and waited.

  What was he doing? They needed to hurry.

  Minard slung Kara over his shoulder and they were off. Kara watched Wrynric recede down the tunnel, until the light from his torch disappeared as they rounded a corner.

  It was then she came to understand.

  Chapter 26

  AEMON

  Aemon strained his ears to listen to Erinie’s voice over the thumping of their feet. “We’ll turn right up here, then we’ll be at the door where we heard the Metal Man.”

  Trailing at the edge of the torchlight, Aemon tripped on a chunk of broken concrete, almost invisible in the dimming light. Cursing at the pace Minard was setting, he got back to his feet and ran on.

  The Dead City was a ruin, its concrete passages rubble strewn and dark. As they passed decrepit metal doors and through shattered antechambers pockmarked with craters, Aemon was struck by the utter desolation of the place. A forlorn cornucopia of devastation and primeval mystery.

  What had been the instrument that had wrought such destruction? Not time, for its labors were the gentle weathering of a river on stone, the slow degeneration of bone or the eclipse of one age and the ascendance of the next.

  Perhaps a battle had raged there, long ago. But if one had, who had fought it and why?

  The craters in the floor and ceiling reminded him of the ones left by the enemy projectiles at Deep Cave and Celestial Rest. About the only other thing Aemon knew that might have caused the damage was explosives. He used to believe the Priest King’s alchemists were the only ones who knew the secret of making them, but Erinie also possessed the knowledge. That suggested anyone with the right skills and ingredients could make them too.

  Perhaps their use had once been commonplace. If that were true, what would people have done with such powerful weapons? Aemon chuckled knowingly. What they always do. They turn them on one another.

  Kara stared back at him from Minard’s shoulder but seemed not so much to look at him—but through him. Whoever was behind them had really spooked her.

  Aemon could still feel Kara’s lips on his. The taste of her mouth, the feel of her body pressed against his, the softness of her hair. How he longed to feel them again.

  She had seemed more her old self then, but it had not lasted long. Now she was more distant and lost than ever before. As he ran, he called upon Lydan, the Shield of Heaven, to make her ordeal near an end.

  Up ahead, Erinie cheered, “We’re here.”

  They stopped at a metal door built into the fractured, concrete wall. Nothing set it apart from any of the other ones they had passed. Puffing, he shook his head. This is it? The fabled door from the story of the Metal Man?

  It looked so ordinary, nothing but a rusted, battered old thing like a hundred others around here. A corrosion-pitted plaque with strange symbols on it was stuck to the wall beside it. No, not symbols. Writing.

  But what did it say?

  Min
ard kicked the door, knocking off a layer of rust. “Are you sure this is it?”

  Before Erinie could answer, a voice sounded from within. It spoke in a deep monotone, in a language Aemon could not understand. Considering how the words were spoken, he guessed the voice was listing off names or reciting numbers. The syllables were short and said one after another without pause.

  Minard put Kara down and made her face the door. “Open it, scion, we’re here.”

  Erinie watched Kara expectantly. Kara stared at the door, but did not make a move to open it. Aemon touched her arm. “Are you all right?”

  She must not have heard him or was lost in thought, for she continued to stare unblinking at the door. The voice said something again in its strange language.

  Kara took a step backwards. “Location: 51 30 26 North by 0 7 39 West... Target searched.”

  Erinie arched her eyebrows. “Scion?”

  The voice spoke again, and Kara said, “Location: 31 57 8 South by 115 51 32 East... Anomaly detected.”

  Aemon glanced at the others, as if one of them could explain what was going on. By the expressions on their faces, it was clear they were as confused as he was.

  Had Kara lost her mind?

  Aemon shook her until she looked at him. “Can you hear me? We are at the door. Open it so you can speak to the Metal Man and make him tell you how to get rid of the passkey.”

  Kara’s eyes widened. “This isn’t the door. Don’t open it.”

  The urgency in her voice startled him. “What do you mean? We can hear his voice.”

  “This is the same voice we heard the last time we were here,” Erinie said, stepping toward Kara. “We’ve come all this way, scion. Please open it.”

  “No. This isn’t the right place.” Kara pointed down another passage. “That’s the way we need to head. I remember it from my visiondreams.”

  Erinie glanced at the door. “If this isn’t the right one, then who or what is in there?”

  “The enemy,” Kara replied, her face lit by the passkey.

  Minard muttered a prayer to Ibilirith as Aemon asked, “You mean the enemy attacking Stelemia?” Kara nodded. Aemon bit his lip. “Does it know we are here?”

  Kara said nothing, her eyes losing focus, as if she were elsewhere again. Aemon turned to Erinie. “What do we do?”

  Spinning on her heel, Kara started to walk away but Minard stopped her. “Easy, scion; I’ll carry you. I need to make sure you’re not up to no good.”

  Aemon reached for his mace. “If you try to hurt her, expect to have to get through me first.”

  Minard chuckled, “Easy there, warrior. Remember the oath the scion made me take.” He bent down to let Kara climb onto his back. When she was on, he stood. “I hope if she becomes a threat, you’ll both back me up. It’ll be hard, I know, but remember what’s at stake.”

  Aemon hesitated. How could he let the monk kill her, even if the entire human race was at stake? He squeezed the mace handle, glaring at the monk. As much as Aemon hated Minard, he knew the monk was right, which made Aemon hate him all the more.

  Kara had made Aemon make the same oath, but he had lied when he had made it. He knew he did not have the heart to kill her.

  And that makes me a pitiful coward. His hand shook as it clenched the mace. How I hate being so unworthy.

  Kara did not seem to be listening to what they were saying. Her eyes were closed, with little lines around them, as if she was concentrating on something. If she learned he had lied to her, would she hate him?

  Erinie brushed back Kara’s bangs. “Scion, direct us to the Metal Man. Or if not him, then let’s try to find the library.”

  Kara spoke into Minard’s ear and the monk nodded. With a last look at Aemon, Minard sped down the concrete passage. Aemon hurled his anger to the back of his mind and hurried after them, Erinie beside him.

  They went left and right, down different passages, some choked with rubble, others knee deep with water and others still inexplicably untouched by time or explosives. Hundreds of closed metal doors went by, along with ancient garden beds and corroded signs covered in indecipherable writing. One room had a colossal rusted machine at its center. The ancient machine was covered in broken light bulbs, buttons and levers. Thick cables half buried under rubble stretched along the floor and disappeared into the back wall of the room.

  Minard stopped to admire the metal monstrosity but Kara kicked her legs. “Keep moving. We’re running out of time. It’s sixteenth hour, which means we only have three hours to get to the door leading to the Metal Man.”

  One tunnel led into another, then another. It was then Aemon realized just how vast the mysterious city was.

  Who had built it? What had happened to them? If a war had been fought in the Dead City, where were the bones or broken weapons, or any other clues to who or what had fought there?

  They entered a new passage and raced down it, but soon came to a mound of rubble with no way around it. They had reached a dead end.

  “Where to now?” Minard asked.

  Kara dropped off his back and stared at the rubble. Her fists were balled and sweat ran down her face, the passkey glowing bright red under her robe. “This should not be here.” She spun to look at Minard accusingly, as if it was his fault. “I did not wait all this time to be stopped by a—”

  Suddenly, Kara raced over to the wall and studied it. She walked several paces back down the corridor, her walking staff never touching the ground. Eventually, she stopped at a jagged crack that ran a dozen feet along the wall.

  “It is weak here. We need to find a way to break through it.” She dug her fingers into the crack. “There should be a passage on the other side.”

  Minard snorted, “How are we supposed to dig through concrete? With our bare hands? I think not.”

  The monk was right; there was no way they could break through the wall without proper equipment. Plus it would be dangerous, as it could bring the roof down on their heads. On top of that, if they were really being followed, then their pursuers would reach them long before they could complete the task.

  “I could blow it up with an explosive,” Erinie said. “I have everything I need to make them in my pouches.”

  Kara seemed relieved. She pointed at the widest part of the crack, near its center. “Plant your explosive there.”

  “You three, head back up the corridor and take cover around the corner. I’ll light the fuse then join you.” Erinie blew air out of her mouth, mimicking the sound of an explosion. “The shock wave is going to be immense.”

  Kara climbed onto Minard’s back. They watched Erinie sift through her pouches and take out a handful of black powder from one and pour it into another. Next, she attached a fuse to the top of the pouch, then pulled the strings to close it. She looked up at Kara and nodded once.

  The explosive was ready.

  “Do it,” Kara said.

  Erinie jammed the explosive into the crack. “Get to cover. I’ll be right behind you.”

  Heart kicking like an ox, Aemon ran. He stopped once he had rounded the corner and covered his ears. Erinie dove to cover just as a loud boom roared down the tunnel. The shockwave slammed into them, knocking Aemon off his feet.

  The echo of the blast rumbled through the silent passages of the Dead City until it faded into the distance. Aemon stood, brushed off concrete dust, and spat out bits of grit. The other three did likewise, then they went to see what the explosive had wrought.

  Aemon was surprised at how much damage the explosion had done. Huge cracks ran along the walls and half the roof had caved in. Bits of concrete continued to drop from the ceiling and water from a broken pipe sprayed everywhere.

  Ignoring the carnage, Kara kicked Minard’s sides and screamed at him to get moving.

  They raced to where Erinie had planted the explosive and found it had done its job. The destroyed wall revealed another rubble-strewn concrete tunnel beyond.

  “There it is,” Kara said. “Get moving.”
>
  A large chunk of concrete broke away from the roof and shattered several feet in front of them. Minard glanced back at her. “You sure you want to risk going in there?”

  Kara kicked her feet again. “Yes. Now go.”

  Minard muttered under his breath, then carried her into the other corridor, narrowly avoiding another chunk of falling debris. Aemon and Erinie cautiously followed, and made it through in one piece.

  Once they were away from the destruction, Kara directed them down more corridors, lined with metal doors. As she ordered Minard around, her voice became more certain, more commanding; carrying an air of authority she had never had before. Strangely, her voice also had the tinge of an accent.

  If only she had opened up about what was wrong with her back when they had kissed. Aemon had tried to ask her, but she had put her lips to his and silenced him. What is happening to you, Kara? Please hold on. We are so close.

  This section of the city was in even worse shape than where they had entered. The floor was covered in debris, deep cracks and craters and the walls were blasted ruins with twisted metal pipes sticking out of them, ready to impale any one of them on their sharp ends.

  Several of the doors they hurried by were open or had been ripped from their hinges by some powerful force. Many of the rooms beyond were filled with rubble, rusted metal furniture or the odd machine. One had a picture on the wall encased in glass, but the painting had crumbled to dust.

  In the hours they had raced through the Dead City, they had still not seen any sign, living or dead, of those that once called it home.

  Kara shouted over the sound of their running feet, “At the end of this corridor there will be an antechamber with a door on the opposite end. We need to open it to get to the level above us.”

  When they arrived at the antechamber, they found it as desolate as the rest of the city. Chunks of concrete were strewn across the floor along with rusted rebar and the shattered remains of a long stone bench. Above their heads, the roof was crisscrossed with a mosaic of cracks, suggesting it could collapse at any moment.