The Undying Champions (The Eternal War Book 1)

by Brennan C. Adams

  Bright’s reluctance and hesitation took Raimie off guard. For a moment, he considered the possibility that Alouin’s suggestion to speak through a tear might be a trap, a way to ensnare him into yet another complicated problem, but he quickly decided he’d have to take the chance. Alouin had intimated that he knew something about Raimie, something that shocked him, and Raimie had to know what could shock a god. The curiosity would invariably nag at him otherwise.

  “It’s what I want,” he told Bright.

  The splinter ducked his head in resignation and reluctantly led the way. After a few turns, Bright stopped in front of a heavy wooden door that, fortunately, wasn’t locked. Raimie pulled it open, leading the way into the cave beyond.

  As before, a dim glow from an unknown source illuminated the cramped space. Slight dips and rises in the floor resembled the hills surrounding the tear near Allanovian even if the tallest one here only came up to Raimie’s hip. The circle of ground directly beneath the tear was smashed with cracks radiating out from the midpoint, and the tear itself was significantly smaller this time as well. Raimie thought he could get a hand through it if he angled the right way. The misty white light leaking from its edges helped defuse the disquieting black smudge of its center. All of this was well and good, exactly as he’d expected.

  What he hadn’t expected, however, was the giant cage encircling the tear, complete with a large lock on its door.

  “That’s problematic,” Bright said.

  “Not in the least,” Raimie countered before Dim could angrily argue.

  He snatched up energy from the source within Dim, and it eagerly responded, but this time, it didn’t just come from his splinter. Darkness spewed forth from the tear, ignoring the bars that kept it enclosed, and descended on Raimie. He threw up his hands instinctively, bracing for the strike. When none came, he lowered them, examining the palms for damage in vain. His hands clenched into fists.

  The amount of power surging through his body was intoxicating. He could take on the world with this! Queen Kaedesa be damned, he could take on Doldimar with this! All of his enemies would tremble before his might!

  Mad laughter boomed in the cave, and he hungrily sucked in more of that marvelous darkness.

  Brilliant illumination smashed into his chest, and Daevetch’s energy fled from it, enough so that Raimie could think logically. Even with all of the power the dark, primal force could provide, he couldn’t take on an army of enemies alone and to think he could was reckless.

  Disgusted with how easily the power had manipulated him, he let it bleed away, keeping only enough to accomplish his task. In the midst of that, a streak of white light again splashed against his chest, making him stumble. Bright sprang at Raimie, hissing uncontrollably, his guise completely shattered. Black arms encircled the splinter, halting his attack.

  “Do what you need to,” Dim screeched with a buzz, his body shaking with hiccupped laughter, “but hurry! I can’t keep Order back for long.”

  Raimie slammed his hands in between two bars and heaved them apart. He flung away the rest of the dark streaks racing over his arms and that seemed to help somewhat. Bright focused his attack on Dim rather than on his human.

  Raimie desperately tried to dismiss the splinters, but they wouldn’t respond no matter how firmly he commanded them. They rolled on the floor, punching, kicking, and roaring at one another. He shook his head. He’d have to hope that they’d calm once he retreated from the tear.

  Time to get this over with.

  He marched up to the dark smudge and thrust a hand inside.

  Again, a deluge of sights and sounds both familiar and foreign crowded his mind, making him fear his brain would cook from overstimulation if he stayed too long. Like he’d learned last time, he screamed for that which he required.

  “I’ve come as you asked, Alouin! It’s time to explain!”

  He endured the flood of information for a full minute more, distantly aware of warm liquid collecting in his ear and spilling down the back of his neck.

  “Come on, you bastard,” he whispered.

  Maybe he’d imagined the entire conversation. It would be quite understandable considering his state at the time……………………………………………………

  He sluggishly pulled his thoughts together. He couldn’t stay here any longer. If it seemed possible that he’d spoken to Alouin when he was outside the tear, then he’d revisit connecting with one again, but for now-

  The deluge of information stopped, bringing crisp, clear relief.

  “Raimie?” Alouin’s voice asked with surprise.

  A pair of hands tore him from the tear. Disoriented, he blinked past the stream of tears collecting in his eyes. The hands that had pulled him out were snatched away.

  “Alouin, he’s burning up! If I have to see a healer because of this…”

  Raimie shoved his palm into the face of the guard next to him. Her head snapped back, and she crumpled to the ground. Raimie’s elbow smashed into the face of her partner, and he joined her.

  Curses consumed his thoughts. There would be evidence that he’d escaped his cell now, and it wasn’t as if he could kill these guards. Not only would he be incapable of such an act, but it would be a futile attempt to cover up his abscondence. He couldn’t very well hide the bodies, and dead guards would send their living compatriots into a panic. Maybe he could mitigate some the damage if he could make it back to his cell before they woke up.

  He took a moment to check that the two were breathing and then lurched out of the cage, retrieving a key ring from one of the guards.

  It sickened him to take in more energy from Daevetch, but he did it in order to bend the bowed bars back into place. Leaving the two guards secured inside the cage, he stumbled back the way he’d come. He continued to issue the command for Bright and Dim to leave as they groggily followed behind until they complied, and they did so just in time. As he slunk into hallway upon hallway of cells, he slid to a stop and quickly ducked back around the corner.

  Several dozen prison guards waited beyond, listening to the warden give out orders.

  “-an’t have gotten far. Spread out and sweep your assigned sectors once more. Focus on places you’d hide if you were on the run.”

  “Sir, do we know how he did that?” someone hesitantly asked.

  She must be referring to the hole in his cell. Well, there went his hopes of keeping his magic secret.

  “Let’s remain focused on what we do best, people, not on things we can’t explain yet. We have an enemy of the crown loose within the castle walls. Get out there, and find him!”

  There was a buzz of voices followed by the staccato of feet stomping the ground.

  Raimie waited nervously just inside the doorway of the room he’d hidden inside. He expected an owner of one of those pairs of feet to check his hiding space at any moment and cry out for help, but the minutes crawled by without discovery. The sounds of stomping feet and quiet conversations faded, leaving behind a deafening quiet.

  He cautiously snuck back to the turn in the hallway that led to the cell block. When he darted his head around the corner, he nearly yelped aloud from glee. In their haste to find a prisoner they’d assumed had escaped, the guards failed to consider said prisoner might return to his cell. No one had stayed behind to keep watch.

  Even so, Raimie was on full alert, knowing that the guards might return at any moment, as he sidled down the hall until he could squeeze back into his cell. He tugged the bars into place and collapsed against the stone wall opposite the door, quietly amused at Eledis’ snoring form.

  Part of him felt foolish for refusing to run while he had the chance. For all he knew, the Queen would decide to divest of them this very night, and he’d have crawled back into this cage for no other reason than to die with his grandfather. He’d like to believe that Kaedesa had forgotten about them or needed to make preparations for a public execution, giving them more time to escape, but he couldn’t deny that such a h
ope was only one of many possible future outcomes.

  Whatever the case, he couldn’t leave his grandfather behind. Such a decision would haunt him for the rest of his life, much as Kheled’s choice to abandon his sister had for him.

  Gods, Kheled. It hurt to think about his only friend. The time he’d spent training with the Eselan had been the only true bright spot since his eighteenth birthday. He was a little worried that, despite Kheled’s clear insistence to the contrary, he’d somehow messed their relationship up, but how could he know one way or the other? He’d never had a friend before. Now, he might never see the one he’d made again.

  Raimie banged his head lightly against the wall. His priority needed to be the present danger not the distant possibility of trouble, focus on what he could control.

  He shouldn’t have taken the time to investigate the tear. If he’d come back immediately, his brief foray deeper into the prison might never have been discovered, and the only thing he’d accomplished with the detour was confirmation that he hadn’t hallucinated meeting Alouin. It had been a foolish mistake, one that would be difficult to correct.

  Sitting as comfortably as he could against the hard, cool stone, Raimie dozed off. He never fell deep enough into sleep to actually dream, but the rest was appreciated despite their absence.

  A key turning in the lock brought him back to awareness. He tiredly eyed the small retinue of guards waiting tensely outside his cell with weapons drawn and scrambled to his feet.

  “What’s going on?” he mumbled.

  Of course, no one decided to answer. The door opened, and they rushed in, pinning him to the wall while they manacled his wrists and ankles.

  “This is silly!” Raimie protested. “I’m not going to run, and I’m certainly not stupid enough to fight all of you.”

  But he had seen the fear in their eyes. They tried to mask it with bravery and duty, but it was obvious to anyone looking for it.

  They dragged him out of the cell.

  “Where are you taking my grandson?” Eledis demanded as they passed.

  One of the guards lingered at the old man’s cell, whispering back and forth with him.

  Raimie’s escort herded and shoved him along many of the same corridors he’d explored only a few hours ago, so he was a little surprised when they stopped at a nondescript door with nothing to set it apart from the dozens of others they’d already passed. The guard in the lead unlocked it, and the group began ascending the spiral staircase beyond.

  All of that time searching, and a way out had been in a place he hadn’t even thought to look. He chuckled at the irony, drawing uneasy stares from the guards next to him.

  He tried to keep count of the steps but eventually had to give up when their pace surpassed his ability to keep track. After what seemed an eternity, they reached the top of the staircase. Raimie’s muscles trembled from the exertion. He’d thought he was fairly fit from the years spent farming and months marching, but that climb had reminded him that he still had a ways to go before he was truly physically fit. Maybe with more weapons training…

  The guard on point climbed the ladder leading to a trapdoor above and again, unlocked it before climbing out. Half of Raimie’s escort followed, and the other half unlocked his manacles. They kept him at sword-point while he lightly hopped onto the ladder and ascended. He hoped he was hiding his weariness well enough to keep up the charade of danger he played.

  Sword tips and short metal cylinders greeted him when he poked his head above ground. Raimie was slightly discomfited at the display. The swords he understood as a means of dissuasion. After all, they could mean instant death to an unarmored man, but he didn’t understand the handled pipes. What could they do? Beat him to death? That seemed like a lot of effort on the guard’s part when they had a much easier alternative on hand.

  Raimie squinted past the bright sunlight as he clambered through the trapdoor. When his eyes adjusted, he eagerly sucked in the view while his hands and feet were restrained.

  They’d emerged into a garden, the trapdoor hidden beneath long tendrils of trailing ivy when it was closed. A manicured lawn bordered by carefully maintained bushes and shrubs lay beside their hidden alcove. Tastefully placed trees and a low wall blocked off a clear view of the massive building beyond. From what was visible, Raimie could make out stone walls enhanced by buttresses, decorative courses, and–was that glass in the windows? The towers he’d seen the night previous seemed to loom even higher overhead now that he stood directly beneath them.

  Deliberately ignoring Raimie’s awe, his escort dragged him forward. He stumbled along, much too busy taking in the man-made beauty around him to watch his footing. They approached another section of the gardens, surrounded by vine-covered lattices and arbors. From a distance, cracking and popping rang out from behind the barriers, and the noise only grew louder as they approached.

  Inside, they found an archery range waiting. Four dummies and several bales of hay had been propped against the lattice on the far side. Three of the dummies had holes torn out of them, and the lattice sported several blackened gaps as well.

  On the near side, a table perched on top of the thin grass, adorned with a line of those handled cylinders his escort wore. Queen Kaedesa trailed her fingers over them, perusing her selection while an attendant stood nearby.

  She wore much more conventional attire for one of her rank today. The bodice of her dress clung to her skin, accenting those wondrous curves that Raimie couldn’t help admiring, and the skirt puffed out from her hips in a slight v. Her hair had been curled and styled rather than pulled into a ponytail, and makeup accented the many pleasing facial features she possessed.

  It painted a nice picture, but Raimie decided he much preferred the other Kaedesa. He thought the ruder, unburdened look she’d taken in Sev fit her much better.

  Taking note of their arrival, the Queen made her selection and moved up to the draw line, revealing the last of the table’s contents. Beyond the metal tubes, Shadowsteal lay flat on the wooden surface.

  Raimie drank in the sight greedily. Whereas before, he’d never wanted anything to do with the sword, his hands now itched to hold it. Not only would it be a relief to wield a weapon in the midst of so many people whose intentions were surely hostile, but his splinters had intimated the sword would allow for smooth communication. He’d love to finally learn exactly what those two wanted.

  It was with great difficulty that he tore his gaze from that which he desired slightly less than his freedom. The Queen carefully pointed the metal tube at the last fully intact dummy. She squeezed the lever lodged in the crook of the handle, and a deafening crack split the air.

  Raimie jumped, tripping on his manacles, and fell back into the guard behind him. She caught him as though she’d expected it. The head of the dummy was completely blown away. Raimie ripped his eyes to the cylinder as smoke billowed lightly from the end. He shook his head both in disbelief and to clear the buzzing in his ears.

  The Queen returned the tube to its brethren. She gestured at Raimie’s escort, and they pushed him forward. While they approached, the Queen’s mouth moved, but Raimie couldn’t hear anything over the infernal ringing. His deafness didn’t matter in any case. Kaedesa was speaking to her attendant, not to him.

  “-accuracy is much improved,” he caught at the tail end. “Tell our smiths I prefer this last model. It’s much closer to what came to us through the tear.”

  The attendant scurried off when dismissed, leaving the Queen to deal with her guest.

  “The shackles won’t be necessary,” she informed the point guard with an imperious wave.

  “Your Majesty…” he began in warning but stopped at her sharp glare.

  “I’ve read the morning reports, guardsman. I’m well aware of the possibility of danger just as I’m sure my guest is aware of his fate should any harm come to me.”

  The guard accepted the rebuke without a word and reluctantly freed Raimie’s limbs. He and his cohorts withdrew.r />
  The Queen looked him over appraisingly, and he resisted the urge to squirm.

  “Come,” she commanded, gesturing to the table. “Sit.”

  A pair of heretofore hidden servants swept into the enclosed garden bearing chairs for the two of them. One slid her burden under the Queen as she bent to sit while the other waited impatiently for Raimie to comply with the Queen’s command. He hesitantly approached the table and joined Kaedesa, scooting his chair under the table on his own.

  Across from him, the Queen retrieved a thin book from a hidden pocket and held out her hand. A quill rapidly appeared there via servant followed by an inkwell set beside the cylinders of death.

  He shifted uncomfortably while Queen Kaedesa thumbed through her book, found her place, and wet her quill.

  “Raimie… quite a short name for a human, no?”

  If Kaedesa wanted to start with a snub, Raimie wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of a retort. He bit his tongue and quietly awaited her next words.

  “Forgive me, young man. I’m not trying to insult you,” the Queen muttered as she scratched in the book. “I love curiosities in fact. Now, you must be anxious to know why I’ve asked for you.”

  Is that what she called being dragged halfway across the palace at the crack of dawn?

  Kaedesa gazed at him as if expecting a response, and Raimie stalled with indecision. If Eledis was right and the prophecy was true, then he’d some claim to noble blood even if that idea made him cringe. Did he address the Queen as an equal, or did he speak to her deferentially? His natural inclination was to choose the latter as he’d lived his entire life as a simple farmer, but he thought the first might keep him alive longer. The problem was that he’d no clue how to converse with royalty on equal footing.

  For the first time, he was grateful to Zetaneb for all of the nights spent drilling court etiquette. Those lessons might not have given him the information he needed at this exact moment, but at least he had a framework to extrapolate from thanks to all of those books on proper politics.

  “Struck you speechless, have I?” Kaedesa asked with some amusement.