Fatemarked Origins: Volume II (The Fatemarked Epic Book 2)

by David Estes

  And then, abruptly, it was time again for the annual battle royale.

  Where have the days gone? Viper wondered, watching as Zune flooded with travelers, growing three times its usual size during this time of year. If anything, it was even more crowded than usual, rumors of the famous Gat spreading like wildfire across the empire. A warrior of his renown was a welcome distraction from the civil war that continued to rage on the border between Calyp and Phanes.

  Viper watched the human deluge pour into the city, waiting, Piston at her side.

  And then she was there, surrounded by guards, riding atop a roofed litter, the silken shades tied open on the sides so she could wave to her people.

  Empress Sun Sandes.

  Viper strode up to meet her, offering her a hand down. “Welcome, sister. How I’ve missed you.”

  Her sister smiled a radiant smile. Her face was fully healed, no trace of the injuries sustained when they’d fought for the right to rule the empire. “And I, you. I’ve heard stories about the impressive changes my little sister has wrought on the armpit city of the south,” she said.

  I’m sure you have, though your little birds are long dead. After Cadon’s death, she’d continued sending birds in his handwriting to Calypso. They were full of lies. “It will be my pleasure to give you a tour before the main event.”

  “Splendid. Has Windy arrived yet? I was hoping for a grand Sandes’ reunion.”

  “I received a message only yesterday with her apologies. It seems she’s far too busy.”

  “Pity,” Sun said, though her tone was anything but disappointed. More like relieved. Sun had even less in common with the Second Daughter than the Third. “And your guanero? Where are they? I was hoping to see some friendly faces while in Zune.”

  Is my face not friendly enough, sister? “Nurge has taken ill. We’ve quarantined him as a precaution, though we’re fairly certain it’s not the plague.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” She didn’t sound sorry.

  “Piston will be at the arena; you’ll see him there.” Viper let silence fall, waiting to see how long her fool of a sister would last. One heartbeat…two heartbe—

  “And Cadon?”

  So predictable. “Oh yes, him.” Your dead spy. “I had sent him to Citadel to collect Windy before I knew she wouldn’t be attending.”

  “How thoughtful,” Sun said neutrally. Viper hid her amusement. She would have to send a bird from “Cadon” in a week’s time confirming the story.

  She changed the subject. “What of your daughters? Surely they are old enough to attend the event of the year?”

  “Mm, yes. They would’ve loved to have made the journey. Whisper, however, is ill. Nothing serious, of course. Fire is training with her ability. And Raven, it seems, has grown fond of the dragons, so much so that she can’t bear to be away from them for a day, much less several.”

  She fears me, Viper realized. She thinks I might attempt to assassinate her. And if so, she wants her daughters as far away from me as possible to ensure the line of succession.

  In that moment of realization, her respect for her sister went up a hundredfold. Because, despite her fear and suspicions, she came anyway.

  The tour ended at the grand arena, which now boasted seating for well over a hundred thousand spectators, ten thousand of which would pay a premium for luxury boxes with one servant per patron to accommodate their every desire.

  “I’m duly impressed,” Sun said. “I had my misgivings when you asked to take over the pits. But it seems my doubts were misplaced.”

  “Thank you. I only wish to achieve greatness for our empire.”

  “And you have. But now it’s time for you to return to Calypso. To your home.”

  Nice try, sister. Keeping your enemies close is a smart move. “Perhaps in a year or two’s time,” she said neutrally. “Though the operation has improved, there is still much to accomplish. Once I’m comfortable of my succession plan, I will certainly return home and find another pursuit to occupy my time.” Like overthrowing you and your daughters.

  “I could command you, you know.”

  “But you won’t.”

  Her sister laughed, and it was as fake-sounding as her voice had been all day. “No, I won’t. Just as I won’t begrudge Windy her scholarship in Citadel.” So long as you think neither of us are a true threat, she thought.

  “Good. Then I’ll lead you to your quarters to freshen up before the fight. This year, we have the best group of warriors yet. It’s certain to be a spectacle you won’t want to miss.”

  They’d practiced for weeks, choreographing every punch, every kick, every movement, until each and every fighter could perform each maneuver with their eyes closed.

  Viper watched, in awe of them. If she hadn’t known it was all a great performance, she would’ve believed it to be real. The crowd cheered each time the great Gat defeated another opponent, spilling their blood like water across the arena floor. They gasped each time he himself was nearly killed, dodging a killing stroke and taking it across the arm or shoulder or hip instead. It was a battle royale unlike any they’d ever seen, complete with various types of fighters, from brawlers to those versed in phen ru to those adept at a variety of weapons, from knives to clubs and everything in between.

  It was a battle for the ages.

  From time to time, Viper glanced at her sister, gauging her reaction. Unless she herself was acting, she was rapt, her eyes never leaving the field of battle. Most of the time, her eyes were glued to Gat.

  When the final killing move came—where Gat pretended to snap the neck of the last opponent—the crowd was in a frenzy, on their feet, roaring their approval for the man who’d met every challenge he’d faced…or so they believed.

  And then, as the champion slowly rose to his feet, they did what Viper had longed for them to do for months.

  They chanted his name.

  “Gat! Gat! Gat!”

  Over and over again as he slowly spun in a circle, surrounded by “dead” men and women, letting the spectators’ cries wash over him like a summer’s breeze. A thrill ran through Viper as she turned once more to look at her sister.

  Sun Sandes, Empress of Calyp, was applauding, too, chanting the name of the man who would one day help Viper overthrow the empire.

  The next morning, Viper escorted her sister to her litter, helping her climb inside. She felt…victorious, as if she’d already won the empire. Calm yourself, she thought. It was an important step toward her loftier goals, but she had much still to accomplish. Bide your time. Grow your army. Wait until the time is ripe.

  Sun looked down at her. “I want him,” she said.

  Viper frowned. “Who?”

  “The victor of the battle royale. Gat Vaid. I want him in Calypso. I want him to train with the guanero.”

  “He’s a Phanecian,” Viper said, her mind racing. Would her sister really go this far?

  “Yes, and he left Phanes to come to Calyp.”

  “Perhaps he’s a spy.”

  “A spy who got caught, sent to Zune, and just happened to fight his way to freedom by winning the battle royale?”

  “It’s possible.”

  “It’s possible that I will one day learn to breath fire like my Second Daughter, too, but it’s unlikely. I’m willing to take the risk. I want him.”

  “It’ll have to be his choice. Gat Vaid is a free man now. I won’t have you undermining my operation and the hope it gives the other prisoners. That hope is what makes them fight so tenaciously.”

  “Fair enough. Offer Gat a position in my army. Offer him a royal stipend. Offer him whatever you have to in order to convince him to come to Calypso.”

  She nodded. “I will.” Oh yes, I will.

  “I won’t,” Gat said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m a free man now, right?”

  Viper nodded uncertainly.

  “Then I choose to stay here. To continue to train your army. To prepare for what’s t
o come. I have no desire to be a spy.”

  “Don’t you see? This is our one chance to infiltrate my sister’s chain of command. This could be the turning point.”

  “I’m not a fool. I see the benefits. But I also know what I want, and that doesn’t involve Calypso or your sister.” The last few words lowered into a growl, and the look he gave her now resembled hot coals smoldering into ash.

  A thrill ran through her, one she’d held back for months. Gods, this man. Why did I have to choose someone so…desirable?

  She found herself at a loss for words, all arguments escaping her. “I—”

  “You don’t own me. Not anymore,” he said. With that, he stepped forward—too close, too close—touching her cheek with his palm, running his thumb along her jawline, playing with her hair. Her mind stopped working, her heart breathing fire. “I want to savor you like fine wine. I want to drink you until I’m drunk.” His voice was tender but rough at the same time. Certain. Demanding.

  He kissed her, and she didn’t refuse him—would never again refuse him.

  No, he wouldn’t be her spy. He would be her champion, and together they would rule the south like dragons.

  Loving the Fatemarked Epic? Grab the next book, Soulmarked, available NOW! Or keep reading for a sample.

  A personal note from David…

  If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a positive review on Amazon.com. Without reviews on Amazon.com, I wouldn’t be able to write for a living, which is what I love to do! Thanks for all your incredible support and I look forward to reading your reviews.

  Acknowledgments

  To the artist responsible for all things Fatemarked, Piero, you are truly artmarked! My sincerest thanks for all your efforts.

  To my beta readers for this installment, Karen Benson and Daniel Elison, may you always find peace in your Four Kingdoms.

  A very special thank you to Beverly Laude, who won a character naming contest, and came up with Shanti Parthena Laude, a beautiful name that just happened to be perfect for one of my characters. You truly are a Peaceful Maiden of Highest Honor!

  To the readers! Thanks for being a part of this epic journey. More. To. Come.

  The saga continues in other books by David Estes available through the author’s official website:

  http://davidestesbooks.blogspot.com

  or through select online retailers including Amazon.com.

  High Fantasy Novels by David Estes

  The Fatemarked Epic:

  Book One—Fatemarked

  Book Two—Truthmarked

  Book Three—Soulmarked

  Book Four—Deathmarked (coming soon!)

  Book Five—Lifemarked (coming soon!)

  Fatemarked Origins:

  Volume I

  Volume II

  Volume III (coming soon!)

  Volume IV (coming soon!)

  Volume V (coming soon!)

  Science Fiction Novels by David Estes

  “Someone must die before another can be born…”

  The Slip Trilogy:

  Book One—Slip

  Book Two—Grip

  Book Three—Flip

  One of “15 Series to Read if You Enjoyed The Hunger Games”—Buzzfeed.com

  The Dwellers Saga (also available in audiobook):

  Book One—The Moon Dwellers

  Book Two—The Star Dwellers

  Book Three—The Sun Dwellers

  Book Four—The Earth Dwellers

  “Fire Country is a fast, fierce read.”—Emmy Laybourne, author of Monument 14

  The Country Saga (A Dwellers Saga sister series)(also available in audiobook):

  Book One—Fire Country

  Book Two—Ice Country

  Book Three—Water & Storm Country

  Book Four—The Earth Dwellers

  Strings (also available in audiobook)

  “The Walking Dead for teens, with ruthless witches instead of bloodthirsty zombies.”—Katie Reed, agent at Andrea Hurst & Associates

  Salem’s Revenge:

  Book One—Brew

  Book Two—Boil

  Book Three—Burn

  Connect with David Estes Online

  David Estes Fans and YA Book Lovers Unite

  Facebook

  Blog/website

  About the Author

  David Estes was born in El Paso, Texas but moved to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania when he was very young. He grew up in Pittsburgh and then went to Penn State for college. Eventually he moved to Sydney, Australia where he met his wife and soul mate, Adele, who he’s now happily married to.

  A reader all his life, David began writing science fiction and fantasy novels in 2010, and has published more than 20 books. In June of 2012, David became a fulltime writer and is now living in Hawaii with Adele, their energetic son, Beau, and their naughty, asthmatic cat, Bailey.

  A sample of SOULMARKED, Book 3 in the Fatemarked Epic by David Estes

  Available NOW!

  Chapter One

  The Hinterlands, beyond the bounds of the Northern Kingdom, Circa 532

  Lisbeth Lorne

  She arrived in the midst of a storm, in the deepest throes of night.

  Born of thunder and lightning and howling wind and needles of sleet, she was a spell incarnated, the product of magic and faith and a power beyond human understanding. She was the daughter of Absence and Wrath and Surai, the many-named gods of the south, the Creator, the One responsible for Life and all those who claimed it.

  You shall be Lisbeth Lorne, a voice said. It wasn’t a shout, but a whisper, nearly lost on the wind.

  “Lisbeth Lorne,” the girl tried. She laughed at the way it sounded on her tongue. She laughed at the coolness of the snow settling on her face and hands. She laughed at how the fabric of her pale blue dress felt against her smooth skin. She laughed because she was, inexplicably, alive.

  Unlike the other humans that walked the face of the planet, she remembered the time before; a time when she was naught but a soul, a ribbon of light, free from the bounds of gravity and human nature, free from deception and violence and disappointment and foolish decisions. In those days, those eternities, she sang with the stars, spoke with the sun, slept with the moons.

  She was free.

  And yet now, trapped in this body, held fast to the ground, there was something liberating, astonishingly exciting—a giddy feeling in her lungs and chest, the simultaneous cold of snow against the warmth of the blood running through her veins.

  I am alive.

  The truth of the thought echoed through her, and she took off, stumbling over the drifts at first, her new knees knocking together, her new arms awkward at her sides. As the wind splashed against her smile, she fell less and less as she learned, as she found her balance.

  Instinctively, she knew she saw the world differently than others. Some would call her blind, but that wasn’t exactly true. She might not be able to see the outward physical nature of her surroundings, but what she saw held far more truth; for she saw the soul of every living thing, pulsing, alive, the truth behind a wall of lies, a single grain of sand amongst billions.

  She relished the joy of dancing across the soul of the world, feeling it breathe beneath her feet.

  Hours later, the night began to fall away, and she stopped, tumbling to the snow, breathing ghosts into the lightening sky.

  A wolf howled. Then another.

  She sat up, looking around. They weren’t wolves—for they didn’t have the cool blue souls of wolves, ever stalwart—but something else, something larger, their inner beings red slashes of lightning, hungry, ever hungry. There were ten, twenty, a hundred, a sea of predators racing over the snowy hills, cresting one and descending another, starting up the final slope to where Lisbeth sat catching her breath.

  Riding each beast were other souls, a combination of light and dark, bold and fearless and intense. They were violent shadows that had tasted blood.

  Something pulsed through her: Not fear, exactl
y; more like curiosity.

  The first of them reached the hill’s apex, skidding to a halt. Though blind in the typical sense, she sensed the weapons: spears raised, shoved forward, their blades surrounding her.

  “Uz nom nath kahlia!” one of them said, a grunt that seemed to come from the deepest part of his throat. You have broken the pact, Lisbeth understood.

  “Iz nom klar,” she spoke, the rough words hurting her throat. I have just arrived.

  The one who spoke, perhaps the leader, cocked his head to the side, his soul displaying the gray tide of confusion. “Uz Gurz hom shuf? Cut?” You speak Garzi? How?

  “I don’t know,” Lisbeth said, instinctively reverting back to the language that felt more comfortable.

  “Filth language,” the creature said. “Now you must die.”

  He raised his spear over his head just as the sun appeared, orange rays reflecting tongues of flame across the blade. This Lisbeth could see, though it was naught but flashes of light on the edge of her vision.

  Lisbeth closed her eyes. She wasn’t ready to die; she had only just arrived.

  Bright blue light burst from her forehead, piercing the vision of the multitude gathered before her, both riders and beasts. The Garzi cried out, their voices raised together, their weapons dropped as they tried to cover their eyes.

  In that moment, she revealed their souls at all their extremes. The darkness. The lightness. The pain. The betrayal. The fear. The joy.

  The light died away, revealing the mark on Lisbeth’s head: a single, blue eye.

  The Garzi warriors crashed from their mounts, screaming, scrubbing at their ears, at their eyes, at their heads. The beasts fled, abandoning their masters, knocking into each other in their haste to escape.