Beginnings: Five Heroic Fantasy Adventure Novels

by Lindsay Buroker

  Emotion welled in Tikaya’s throat. She had fallen in love with him every bit as much as he had with her. The thought of going home by herself, never to see him again, brought tears to her eyes.

  She wanted to hug him, to kiss him, but she caught the marine on guard watching them. She settled for leaning her head against Rias’s shoulder. “I forgive you.”

  He rested his head on hers, and neither suggested returning to camp to sleep. She thought about bringing up her suspicions about Bocrest’s mission. If Rias had risked his career because he thought assassinating her president dishonorable, surely he would not knowingly help the emperor obtain weapons that could wipe out millions of innocent people. She trusted him more after his confession, but she still hesitated. His first questions to her came to mind, the way he had asked if her president was a good person, if the people liked him. Now she realized he must have had regrets during his time on Krychek, that those questions had been a damaged man asking if it had been worth it. If he had those moments to live over, would he make the same choice? Could she trust him now to make the right choice over one that might gain him the emperor’s favor once again?

  Rias lifted his head. “Is that the journal you found?”

  Tikaya looked toward camp. It was the journal. And the assassin was reading it. She could have smacked herself on the forehead for not hiding it. If Sicarius was the one who tortured Lancecrest, he was also the one who had been looking for the journal.

  She jumped to her feet and hustled toward the camp while trying not to look like she hustled toward camp. If she seemed desperate to keep it to herself, it would arouse suspicions, but she had to get it away from him.

  Sicarius flipped through the pages. The way his dark eyes skimmed the columns from top to bottom and left to right made her believe he could read Kyattese. He lifted his head as she drew near, and Tikaya’s determined step faltered when that cool gaze landed on her.

  “Uhm, that’s mine. I mean, I’m the one who found it, and I’ve been translating the runes drawn in there. The owner’s guesses are largely incorrect, so you wouldn’t want to...” She stopped talking since he had already turned his attention back to the journal.

  To make sure her concerns were founded, she switched languages and asked, “Can you read Kyattese?”

  His eyes flicked up briefly, but she received no answer. She took another step, toying with the idea of seeing if he would let her take it out of his hands. An arm slipped around her waist from behind.

  “Yes,” Rias said near her ear. “He can. Among other languages.” He put a hand on her arm and guided her to her rucksack. “Is there something in it you don’t wish him to find?”

  Her uncertainties about Rias’s regrets and loyalties made her hesitate, but she needed an ally, and he was still the most likely one. She did not see how she could fool the Turgonians and eliminate the threat to her people—to the world—by herself. “Instructions on how to launch the rockets.”

  His grip tightened on her arm. “Why didn’t you tell me what was in there?”

  Tikaya watched his face. “I didn’t know whose side you were on.”

  “That’s...” Rias closed his eyes, “understandable. Get some rest. We’ll look for an opportunity to get it back tomorrow.”

  Tikaya found her bedroll, but her earlier weariness had disappeared. For a long time, she lay on her side, watching the assassin read.

  17

  Water trickled somewhere in the distance. After the monotonous black walls and tomb-like silence of the tunnels thus far, Tikaya would appreciate some dripping stalactites, striated walls, bumpy columns—proper cave appurtenances. As of yet, though, no end of the alien passages lay in sight.

  The marines marched ever deeper with Bocrest and Rias leading, and Tikaya walking behind them. Sicarius came and went, sometimes padding soundlessly alongside the captain, other times exploring on his own. That morning, Rias had given a briefing highlighting the dangers of the tunnels. Admonitions had included “no touching things” and “don’t wander off on your own.” The assassin apparently did not believe rules applied to him, and she could not even wish him to get lost and fall off a cliff, not as long as he had her journal.

  “You’ve been here longer than us, right?” Bocrest asked when Sicarius returned from one of his roaming stints. “Do you know where the archaeologists are?”

  “No.”

  “Do you know where the weapons are?”

  “No.”

  “Do you know what other dangers we’ll face?”

  “No.”

  The assassin’s cool monotone never changed, though Bocrest’s pitch grew more agitated as he failed to hear the answers he wanted. He was probably used to flogging kids this age for not cleaning the head sufficiently.

  “What do you know?” Bocrest asked.

  Tikaya, walking behind them, had a good look at the frosty gaze Sicarius slid the captain. She glanced at Rias who merely raised his eyebrows. He might pull her away and keep her from doing something stupid to annoy the young assassin, but he did not appear inclined to watch out for Bocrest.

  “I crossed the mountains on foot and arrived only a day before you,” Sicarius said.

  He withdrew the purloined journal, and Tikaya’s fingers twitched. She strained to see over his shoulder as he opened it to a dog-eared page. The instructions. He ripped them out. He turned to another page in the back of the journal and tore the bottom third off.

  “What are you doing?” Tikaya blurted.

  Sicarius ignored her, showing the scraps to Bocrest. “Operation instructions for the rockets and the sequence of runes Lancecrest pushed to get into the weapons chamber.”

  Tikaya cringed. She should have hidden the journal. Assuming no one else could read her language had been foolish.

  “Lancecrest claimed the sequence only worked once,” Sicarius said, “and his team has been stymied since.”

  “Give the book back to Tikaya now that you’ve got what you wanted,” Rias told Sicarius.

  Bocrest glanced at Rias, startled eyes wide. Even the captain had not dared give the emperor’s assassin a direct order. But Sicarius handed the journal back to Tikaya without missing a step.

  “Thank you,” she said, though it seemed obsequious to thank him for returning something he had stolen out of her rucksack. He was going to be a problem—as if she did not have enough problems already. She needed more allies out here, not more enemies, and her only option was the team that waited within. “Why did Lancecrest fire the rocket on your fort?” she asked Sicarius.

  He did not respond or even glance her direction.

  “I’m just wondering why one of your citizens would turn on your people like that. Is living in the empire that bad? Are people disaffected and eager to fight back against the oppressive rule of your emperor?” She hoped to goad the assassin into speaking, but it was Bocrest who responded.

  “There’s nothing wrong with living in the empire,” he snapped. “If that Lancecrest brat was motivated by anything, it’d be money.”

  “I didn’t know slaying marines in remote outposts could be profitable,” Tikaya said.

  Rias’s lip twitched. He was staying silent, but she decided it did not represent disinterest or annoyance at her sleights toward the empire. In general, he was not as garrulous around the marines as he was alone with her, and she imagined all but the closest of his men had known him as a quiet, enigmatic leader.

  “I only bring it up,” Tikaya said, “because it might be useful to know why Lancecrest was attacking your people and whether those left inside are out to get you, too, or if he was the leader and now they’re rootless.”

  “I’d like answers to those questions too,” Rias said when Sicarius did not respond. “What happened on that ledge?”

  Sicarius glanced at the squad of marines following them, men who had grown silent as soon as the conversation started. Rias nodded to Bocrest, and the captain called a halt. He, Rias, and Sicarius walked ahead to speak priva
tely. Tikaya followed. She’d asked the questions, and she intended to get the answers.

  The assassin watched her walk up, his gaze cold and unwavering. He didn’t want her there. She folded her arms and leaned on the wall. Too bad. Rias’s eyes crinkled.

  “I was too late to stop Atner Lancecrest,” Sicarius told Rias and Bocrest. No remorse or angst colored his tone. He spoke it like a simple fact. “But I learned much from questioning him. He originally heard of the tunnels from Colonel Lancecrest, who disliked his assignment and wanted to retire. He told Atner about the possibility of ancient valuables and asked for a split of whatever profits were made.

  “So they intended to be relic raiders from the start,” Tikaya said.

  “Atner Lancecrest started assembling a multinational expedition of archaeologists and linguists a year ago, and they’ve been inside for several months. They came for relics. They found the weapons. Atner revised his plan. He decided to figure out how to get the weapons so he could hand them to the emperor and gain favor for his family. Some of his team, which included a handful of Nurians, were against that. A pair of them slipped away with a box. They warned their government, and—”

  “The box that was delivered to the capital?” Bocrest asked. “The one that killed hundreds?”

  “Yes,” Sicarius said. “The Nurians delivered it, and, after the deaths, they sent a message telling the emperor to seal the tunnels forever or more killer artifacts would be delivered.”

  “Your emperor doesn’t seem the sort to heed threats,” Tikaya said.

  “No.”

  “Nor,” Rias said, “does he suffer fort commanders who share top secret orders with little brothers. Or little brothers whose actions result in the deaths of hundreds.”

  “But he didn’t know about the Lancecrest involvement when he sent you,” Tikaya said to Bocrest, “did he?”

  “No,” Bocrest said. “But Lancecrest—both of them—would have known they’d be in an ore cart full of shit as soon as their roles came out.”

  Rias nodded. “It would have been more than their deaths. For a disgrace like that, the emperor could take away the entire family’s warrior caste status and wipe their ancestors’ deeds from the history books.”

  Tikaya raised her eyebrows at Rias, wondering if his act of disobedience had created a similar backlash for his family. He seemed to guess her question, for he hesitated, then shook his head. She took that to mean not as drastic a result, perhaps, but some backlash, yes.

  “I don’t get it,” Bocrest said. “The family’s wrecked, but why make things worse by killing everyone in Wolfhump and Fort Deadend?”

  “To delay your party?” Tikaya guessed. “If Lancecrest knew he was dead if he stayed in the empire, maybe he wanted to get the weapons out so he could sell them to the highest bidder. Maybe his family would forgive him if they could all live the life of luxury in some remote paradise.”

  “But he got himself killed.” Bocrest nodded to Sicarius. “So, now all we’re dealing with is a confused bunch of science twits with no leader.” He appeared pleased at the prospect.

  “And possibly Colonel Lancecrest and an indeterminate number of his men,” Rias said.

  Tikaya nodded, thinking of the half-eaten marine they had found in the lab with the creatures.

  “What?” Bocrest asked. “He’s dead. I saw his body.”

  “Are you sure it was him?” Rias asked. “Or was the skin melted by the gas?”

  Bocrest opened his mouth, shut it, then spat. “You’re right. I saw a body in his office and a jacket with his name on it on the chair, but it could have been anybody. Bloody ancestors, he’ll be a pain to deal with if he’s in here. Pissed his little brother slagged things up so badly and left him to endure the aftermath.”

  Tikaya listened bleakly. She had been hoping for fellow archaeologists to ally with; instead she might have another cursed Turgonian military commander waiting. She looked to Rias, hoping for some comfort there, but his face was inscrutable. She still had no idea what he thought about his emperor’s desire to obtain these weapons.

  “But his team is stuck, right?” Bocrest said. “If they could get to the weapons, they’d have taken them and disappeared by now.”

  “Correct,” Sicarius said. “They lack what we have.” His gaze came to rest on Tikaya again.

  Her bleakness increased. When this had started, she had worried her skills would not be enough to keep her family safe. Now she worried her skills would be enough.

  “Valuable intelligence,” Rias told Sicarius. “Good work.”

  Tikaya jerked with surprise. Was he actually complimenting an assassin on the bounty his torture session had yielded?

  “Yes,” Sicarius said, apparently unaffected by the praise.

  * * *

  The tunnel opened into a cavern with a ceiling that disappeared into darkness. A chasm over a hundred feet wide yawned across the center, cutting through walls as well as the floor. A multistory building perched near the edge on their side, and eagerness quickened Tikaya’s step—finally, a chance to see something more than a lab. A plant for distributing water, she guessed. Pipes ran vertically and horizontally from the structure, and a smokestack rose as far as the eye could see. A reservoir adjacent to the building held driftwood-littered water, which trickled over the edge on one side, flowing into the chasm.

  Tikaya peered over the edge. Darkness and distance cloaked the bottom—if there was one. The black floor ended at the lip and started again on the other side. The tidy cobweb-free tunnels made Tikaya forget how much time had passed since this place had been created, but this chasm, which appeared to have formed after the complex was abandoned, reminded her that thousands of years, maybe tens of thousands of years, stood between then and now.

  “Looks like we’ve caught up with the other team.” Rias pointed at a tunnel entrance on the far side. Tikaya froze. Two men stood in it, and one had shaggy red-blond hair and a scruffy beard. She could not make out features at the distance, but they reminded her of Parkonis and sent a painful jab through her mind. Though her islands did not have the only blonds in the world, that hair coloring combined with the likelihood this was an archaeologist made her suspect this was one of her people. The second figure, dark-haired and dark-skinned, wore black and carried a musket. He could have been one of Bocrest’s men. The pair stepped back into the darkness when they noticed the marines watching them.

  “How’d they get over there?” Bocrest asked. “And how do we follow?”

  “Assuming they have a practitioner studied in telekinetics, they could have floated across,” Tikaya said.

  Bocrest’s expression turned sour. “Starcrest, you know any other tunnels that lead over to that side?”

  “No. I don’t know what’s over there. We were desperate to escape by the time we got here. We climbed those pipes and got out through a vent mountainside.”

  Bocrest growled and gazed about. Two other tunnels left the cavern on their side.

  “Karsus,” the captain said, “take your squad through that one and see if there’s a way across the gulf. Everyone else with me. We’re checking this one.”

  “I’d prefer to stay here and study the journal,” Tikaya said. “Not to mention there’s probably much I could learn in that building.” And maybe, if she was alone, those archaeologists would come visit her and she could find out more.

  “You’re not staying alone,” Bocrest snapped.

  “I can stay too,” Rias said.

  “Oh, yes, I’m going to leave you two alone to conspire.”

  “Bet they want to do more than conspire.” Someone snickered.

  Bocrest silenced the commenter with a glare.

  “It’s possible there’s something in the pumping house that could get us across,” Rias said.

  Bocrest’s gaze landed on the assassin. “Will you keep an eye on them?”

  “Yes,” Sicarius said.

  Tikaya grimaced. A babysitter who was young enough to be Rias’s
son. Lovely.

  Before the marines reached the tunnels, Rias was already checking out the reservoir. An underground stream fed the pool, and the current had pushed logs and branches to the nearest side. He gazed thoughtfully at the wood.

  Though eager to explore the building, Tikaya dropped her rucksack and joined him at the edge. She could not remember her last bath, but dipping a finger in the icy water stole her fantasies of immersing herself. Maybe she could heat some up for washing later.

  “Getting an idea?” she asked as Rias pondered the driftwood.

  “Perhaps.”

  “You don’t think the marines will find another way around?”

  “If that rift is a result of a fault line, it could run a long way.” Rias tapped a finger in the air toward the building. “The last time I was here, I found a fantastic cutting tool in there. It burned through stone, wood, and metal like a knife slicing apple custard. If those archaeologists didn’t find it...” He dragged one of the logs out of the water and nodded to himself.

  Tikaya waited for him to explain further, but the assassin appeared at Rias’s shoulder. Tikaya jumped. She had not seen or heard the youth’s approach.

  “Ah, good,” Rias said, less discombobulated. “I’ll need some more muscle.”

  Sicarius had to be curious, but his expression never changed.

  “What do you think, young man?” Rias asked. “Ever want to fly?”

  Sicarius gave the faintest hint of an eyebrow twitch.

  “Let’s get this wood out of the water,” Rias said.

  “Can I help?” Tikaya wondered what he planned.

  “How are your carpentry skills?