Mythbound Trilogy Boxed Set

by Cory Barclay

Barns roared like a man possessed. He smacked his bloody, broken piece of timber on top of one of the marauder’s heads, smashing his skull like a ripe watermelon.

  Kaiko fell to his knees. He clenched his jaw and bared his teeth as blood seeped down his chin. He tried to stand but a spear was in his side, making it difficult.

  He reached out to grab the spear . . .

  The marauder smoothly pulled it out and stabbed Kaiko again, this time in the chest.

  The blackguard peeked over his shoulder and saw Barns had caved in his friend’s head. That was enough incentive to make him flee, his black hood flowing behind him as he dropped the spear and took off.

  But, Barns was huge, with long strides, and he caught up to the enemy within seconds. He tackled the marauder and they went flying through the air.

  Steve and Selestria jumped from their steeds and knelt beside Kaiko, who was on his back.

  Tears were streaming down Selestria’s face.

  Steve heard the loud, sickening crack of a rock or other heavy object coming down on the marauder’s head. Steve thought about saying something, to spare the man’s life, to use him for questioning . . . but Barns was having his way, growling and roaring in futile anger, blood splashing him from nose to knees.

  Kaiko coughed and tried to smile at Selestria. He took the woman’s hand in his and nodded, gulping down blood. He surprised Steve by taking his hand, too. His grip was cold and clammy.

  He looked up at Steve with a blank stare. “You’ve proved your worth, b-braddah. I saw you . . . save . . . the little folk. T-That’s what a Kinsman would do.”

  Steve was confused. He felt hot tears pooling in his eyes. He’d known Kaiko about a month, but that didn’t make him any less of a friend.

  “S-Save him, m’lady,” he said to Selestria, his smile bloody. “You have the . . . m-means now.”

  Selestria petted his shaggy hair and leaned over him, letting the tears fall on his chest.

  Steve clenched Kaiko’s hand as hard as he could. He couldn’t be sure if Kaiko’s words to Selestria were directed at himself or someone else entirely.

  By the time Barns came back from slaughtering the last man, the Hawaiian Menehune, Kaiko, was dead.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The ride back to Old Town was a somber affair. They rode in earnest, in case some of the blackguards decided to double back. Selestria led the way, as she seemed most familiar with the cliffs and roads.

  Barns and Steve had trouble keeping up. Steve’s entire body hurt from colliding and rolling around on the rocks with the blackguard. He could still feel the handprint of the man’s strong grip around his neck.

  Halfway through the ride, when they felt they were out of danger, Steve started shaking uncontrollably on his horse. His adrenaline had worn off and was replaced with exhaustion and fear.

  The image of the blackguard—his blood gushing from his mouth and pierced neck—kept playing in Steve’s head. The man’s blood had cascaded onto Steve’s face like a waterfall, getting in his eyes, mouth, and nose. He instinctively spit, still able to taste the man’s blood in his mouth.

  Steve had saved Lig, but he was also aware Selestria had subsequently saved him. If she hadn’t shown up, he would’ve been a strangled corpse and Lig would have been dead, too.

  Then a darker thought came to Steve . . . that because he’d gone off to save Lig, forcing Selestria to follow him to make sure he didn’t die, Kaiko had died.

  If Steve had stuck with the group and not dashed away, perhaps Kaiko would still be alive.

  The fact Kaiko’s death could be placed at his feet gave him a sense of foreboding like nothing he’d felt before. The depression was immediate and debilitating. The guilt was overwhelming.

  He wanted to apologize profusely, but when he turned in his saddle to look at Barns, the big man wore a tight grimace as he stared ahead. Steve’s eyes wandered to Kaiko’s body, slumped over the back of the horse—they’d refused to leave him at the Bayfog’s summit. Seeing that body was enough to dissuade Steve from trying to apologize to Barns. There would be better times to apologize, but not now. Not when Barns had recently finished exploding two men’s heads like cantaloupes and probably had no qualms about doing it again.

  There was no doubt in Steve’s mind that Barns, too, thought Kaiko’s death was at least partly Steve’s fault.

  Steve felt he couldn’t trust himself. And how can I trust anyone if I can’t even trust myself?

  Shaking his head, he tried to forget the dark thoughts. Kaiko had said he was worthy of respect—that he’d proven himself by saving Lig. Maybe Geddon would agree with that, and would finally tell Steve what the hell was going on here.

  At the very least, Steve thought he deserved to know that.

  Who were those black-armored, black-cloaked bastards? Where did they come from? Why were they so hellbent on destroying The Gathering? What’s the deal with the painting?

  Steve had so many questions. And he needed answers. Pronto.

  The trio finally made it off the cliffs, north along the bank of the bay, and back into Old Town.

  It was much quieter this time around than it had been when Steve had first arrived alone. There weren’t any people gathered outside the old adobe tavern. The clothes that had been hanging before were in the middle of the street now. Francesca the Third trampled a dress as they headed toward the mission.

  All outward appearances at the mission told Steve and the others that things were normal. When they dismounted and walked in, Steve could tell his initial reading was way off.

  The place had been ransacked.

  Misty the cat scampered out from the shadows and bolted to Barns’ feet, following behind him. The cat looked tense and frightened.

  “Dammit,” Selestria muttered under her breath, as she led her horse down the hallway. No one had bothered to stable their steeds—in case there was need for a quick escape.

  That need became more and more likely as they walked further into the mission.

  In the main, domed room of the structure, chairs and tables were overturned. The chests had been emptied and thrown wildly around the room.

  Geddon stood in the middle of the room, where the table and large map had been, his back facing the approaching trio.

  He didn’t bother turning around as Steve, Barns, Selestria, and their horses approached.

  “The map is gone,” Geddon muttered when they were close.

  “Kaiko is dead,” Barns blurted, without hesitation.

  All the life seemed to leave Geddon’s body. His shoulders slumped and his head drooped. As he shook his head over and over, he slowly turned around.

  Tears filled his eyes.

  Selestria ran from Barns and Steve, lunging into Geddon’s arms, wrapping him in a tight embrace.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear.

  In a hoarse voice, Geddon asked, “What happened?” He pulled back from Selestria, sniffled, and wiped his nose.

  “The blackguards got him,” Selestria said. “There was nothing we could do.”

  Barns stepped forward. “That’s not true.”

  Steve gulped and shrank in his own skin.

  Sure enough, Barns spun around and pointed an accusing finger at him. “If this one hadn’t gone wandering off, he and Sela could have arrived to help fend off the blackguards attacking us. I place the blame on this man.”

  Steve opened his mouth to defend himself, but no words would come out, only croaks.

  To his utter surprise, Selestria was the one who stood up for him. “How can you say that, Barns? You heard what Kaiko said with his dying breath! He—”

  “He was trying to be agreeable in his last moments.”

  “Steve Remington did a chivalrous deed!” Selestria yelled.

  Geddon stepped away from her, fixing Steve with a blank stare. “Tell me what happened,” he said, “one at a time. Selestria, you begin.”

  “Steve ventured off on his own—yes—
but it was because he saw the group of brownies in peril. He saved their lives!”

  Barns scoffed, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “He only saved them because you came and saved him! Otherwise, the brownies and this weakling would have died!”

  Selestria and Barns seethed, their voices echoing in the domed room. They stood two feet from each other, and Barns towered over the thin nymph, but she would not back down.

  When Selestria opened her mouth to retort, Geddon threw up his arms.

  “Enough!” he shouted, causing a deep silence to settle over the room.

  Steve had yet to say a word. Guilt flooded his conscience. After a long pause, he said, “Barns is right.”

  All eyes flashed to him.

  “If I wasn’t so foolish, Kaiko would probably have lived. I’ve failed you guys . . .”

  “Shut up, Steven Remington,” Selestria scowled. Her sharp voice caused Steve to shudder and backpedal. “You defended the life of someone weaker than you. That is a noble deed. Period. That is a deed worthy of the Kinship.”

  Steve’s mind fluttered with relief, shame, guilt, and pride. He couldn’t pin down any single feeling. Then, it all cleared away. “Just what the fuck is the Kinship? Kaiko said the same thing—he called me a ‘Kinsman’—and I have a feeling he meant with a capital K, not a lowercase one.”

  Another silence fell over the room. The panting and heaving of Selestria and Barns filled the room.

  “I think I deserve to know, after tonight.” Steve’s eyes moved from face to face.

  Geddon and Selestria shared a look. The nymph gave an almost imperceptible nod, which made Barns groan.

  “While you explain that,” Barns spat, “I’m going to go bury our brother in the garden.” He snagged his horse’s reins and stomped out of the room, with Kaiko’s body gently swaying on the back of the horse. Geddon walked to an overturned chair, righted it, and stepped away, motioning for Steve to sit. He did.

  Misty took the opportunity to crawl out from the shadows. She effortlessly jumped into Steve’s lap and curled into a ball, much to Steve’s surprise.

  Geddon started pacing in front of Steve like a drill sergeant, ignoring the cat. “We still aren’t safe here, so I’ll have to explain quickly. I have no doubt the raiders will be back soon.”

  He cleared his throat and crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you remember when you spoke of the Brethren of Soreltris? You said Annabel mentioned the name.”

  Steve nodded.

  “They are on one side of this ‘war,’ you could say. They are the nobility. The Brethren run Soreltris—this southern district over 200 miles long—with an iron fist. Don’t let Annabel’s words fool you: the Brethren enslave other Mythics. They enlist humans to work for them in destroying the people here. They are an oppressive regime that controls trade with other districts. Until recently, someone called Overseeress Garnet led them. She was the matriarch of the Brethren, and not a terrible one. She was strict, but we could work with her. She died recently, suddenly, and all her power was transferred to her husband. He’s called Overseer Malachite. He’s a despotic overlord and someone we cannot work with. So, he must be dethroned.”

  Geddon paused. One of his eyes widened, as if giving Steve an opening for questions, and he took it.

  “When you refer to ‘we’ . . .” he said, trailing off.

  “We are a resistance group, Steve. We’ve been called rebels, insurgents, mutineers . . . and the name that stuck: vagrants. By no doing of our own, we have come to be known as the Vagrant Kinship. Our members are ‘brothers’ and ‘sisters,’ or Kinsmen. When Kaiko called you worthy of being a Kinsman, that is the highest honor he could have bestowed upon you, in our eyes. It means, Steve Remington, that you have gained my trust. If Kaiko believed it, then I must as well.”

  Steve felt a warm sensation pouring through him. It was pride. He had to fight to keep a smile off his face. Instead, he nodded. “And the blackguards that attacked The Gathering?”

  “Soldiers of the Brethren army.”

  “And the Kinship is . . . you five—well, four, now?”

  “There are many of us scattered around the region. We do not always meet in the same places—we are most vulnerable when meeting. We must act covertly, more often than not. We try to undermine the Brethren through sharp wit, rather than by sheer force. If we did head-to-head battle with them, we would lose. Their numbers are much greater than ours.”

  Things were starting to make a little more sense to Steve. The lines were becoming less blurred—he was almost able to see where everyone stood in this epic battle. He never thought he’d be part of a war—he’d always considered himself too much of a pussy to join the military on Terrus. But, here he was, fighting a battle on a different world. Fighting an intergalactic conflict. It made him giddy with excitement, and scared.

  When it became clear Geddon would say no more unless prompted, Steve asked, “You are the leader of the Kinship, then?”

  Geddon chuckled, shaking his head again. “If anything, I am a stand-in. Our leader is a great man, but he was abducted by the Brethren. He is currently held captive.” Geddon glanced at Selestria and unfolded his arms, gesturing to her. “This is our leader’s wife. It’s my duty to bring back the Kinship’s leader, and she has joined me in my search.”

  “And you have no idea where he is? How will you find him?” Steve asked. It sounded hopeless.

  Geddon turned to the wall behind him, where the cloth-covered painting leaned. “That painting is the key,” he said.

  Steve furrowed his brow. “A painting of an ugly lady? How on God’s green earth—”

  “The Portrait of a Lady is our leader’s Conveyor. It is what attaches his spirit to Mythicus, much like the dollar bill in your back pocket keeps you Bound here . . . unless I relinquish you back to your home.”

  A twinge of fright crept up Steve’s spine. He couldn’t be sure if Geddon’s words were a threat or not—that he would send Steve back to Terrus at the first sign of trouble. He hoped not. Not while Annabel was still within his grasp.

  “How does that help you?” Steve asked, nudging his chin toward the painting.

  Selestria decided to take that question. She said, “I am what’s called a Myth Hunter. We are—”

  “I’ve heard the term. In fact, they tried to kill me while I was minding my own business on Terrus.”

  “Yes, well,” Selestria said, “Hunters are able to use a person’s Conveyor to track their whereabouts. Now that we have it—”

  A muffled scream erupted from the corner of the room, silencing everyone.

  The voice came from beneath the tablecloth covering.

  Geddon ran to the painting and ripped the linen cloth away. He revealed the woman in the frame and stood the painting against the wall. “You wish to say something?”

  “Yes!” the woman in the painting screamed. “You terrible brutes! You foolish sods! You—”

  “Enough, woman. I won’t stand here and be reprimanded by lines of colorful ink!”

  Of course, Steve thought. The paintings talk! But why didn’t she say anything back at The Gathering, when she was being sold?

  The painting sighed, though Steve thought that had to be impossible. Then, she said, “You must all leave this place! You are not safe!”

  “We’re aware of that,” Geddon said.

  “And you must take me with you,” the painting continued, “though I can’t help you how you think I can.”

  At that, Geddon was stumped. He tilted his head. “Pardon?”

  “I’m a high-quality forgery, you fool! I will do you no good!”

  Selestria gasped aloud. “No!” She ran up to the painting and lifted it above her head. “Tell me you’re lying!”

  The woman in the painting said, “Dashing me against the wall isn’t going to help you any, idiotic fairy-woman!”

  Geddon put a hand on Selestria’s arm and she quickly calmed down. She put the painting down and took a step ba
ck, her hand covering her mouth. Tears welled in her eyes again.

  Geddon was strangely becalmed. He faced the ground, deep in thought.

  Steve walked up beside him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Geddy?”

  Geddon’s head shot up in alarm. “Shit,” he gasped. “Our map is gone . . . the Brethren have our map! We’ll never find the correct painting now!”

  Selestria’s lips curled in rage. “Why did you say nothing when we were buying you from the art dealer?”

  “Because he treated me badly,” the painting said. “He never cleaned me, and he kept me hidden in the shadows. I couldn’t wait to be free of him! Just because I’m not the original doesn’t mean I’m worth less than that Lady!”

  “That’s exactly what it means, you vibrant bitch!” Steve cried out, throwing his hands in the air.

  The tension grew as each person’s voice became louder than the person’s before.

  “Who tipped the art dealer?” Geddon asked, jumping a few steps ahead of Steve and Selestria. “He couldn’t have known where our base of operations was—he had to have had some help.”

  Selestria said, “That’s true. Even if he knew you were a forgery and why we needed you—even if he’s employed by the Brethren, you must have overheard him—”

  “You Mythics are quite dense, aren’t you?” the painting interjected. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  Steve, Geddon, and Selestria shared a look—a look of horror they all felt deep within. In unison, their hearts sank.

  Geddon led the way down the hall, toward the back of the mission. They came to a wooden door. White moonlight seeped in through the cracks above and below it. Geddon threw open the door. A cool, nighttime chill immediately washed over them.

  Rows of grapevines and plants filled the garden, reaching back at least twenty yards.

  “No!” Geddon cried.

  Barns was nowhere to be seen.

  Damn, Steve lamented, memories flashing in his mind. “The messenger arrived,” Barns had said. But he didn’t show the messenger in. There must never have been a messenger to begin with!

  And something else was strange and out of place in this garden. A fresh mound of dirt was present near the back, with a piece of wood sticking out of it, marking it for a gravesite.