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The Daath Chronicles- The Complete Series

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by Eliza Tilton




  Contents

  The Daath Chronciles Anthology

  Broken Forest:Book Onexii

  Chapter One1

  Chapter Two6

  Chapter Three9

  Chapter Four12

  Chapter Five17

  Chapter Six20

  Chapter Seven22

  Chapter Eight25

  Chapter Nine33

  Chapter Ten35

  Chapter Eleven37

  Chapter Twelve46

  Chapter Thirteen48

  Chapter Fourteen52

  Chapter Fifteen57

  Chapter Sixteen59

  Chapter Seventeen63

  Chapter Eighteen66

  Chapter Nineteen70

  Chapter Twenty72

  Chapter Twenty-One77

  Chapter Twenty-two80

  Chapter Twenty-Three82

  Chapter Twenty-Four86

  Chapter Twenty-Five89

  Chapter Twenty-Six96

  Chapter Twenty-Seven103

  Chapter Twenty-Eight106

  Chapter Twenty-Nine113

  Chapter Thirty117

  Chapter Thirty-One119

  Chapter Thirty-Two123

  Chapter Thirty-Three129

  Chapter Thirty-Four135

  Chapter Thirty-Five140

  Chapter Thirty-Six147

  Chapter Thirty-Seven152

  Chapter Thirty-Eight155

  Chapter Thirty-Nine158

  Chapter Forty160

  Chapter Forty-One165

  Chapter Forty-Two167

  Chapter Forty-Three171

  Chapter Forty-Four174

  Chapter Forty-Five178

  Chapter Forty-Six181

  Chapter Forty-Seven184

  Chapter Forty-Eight194

  Chapter Forty-Nine196

  Chapter Fifty199

  Chapter Fifty-One203

  Chapter Fifty-Two209

  Chapter Fifty-Three212

  Chapter Fifity-Four217

  Chapter Fifty-Five221

  Chapter Fifty-Six225

  Chapter Fifity-Seven228

  Chapter Fifty-Eight233

  Chapter Fifty-Nine238

  Chapter Sixty244

  Chapter Sixty-One248

  Chapter Sixty-Two252

  Chapter Sixty-Three257

  Chapter Sixty-Four260

  Chapter Sixty-Five262

  Chapter Sixty-Six266

  Chapter Sixty-Seven271

  Chapter Sixty-Eight273

  Epilogue275

  Acknowledgments279

  Wicked Path:Book Two281

  Prolouge 282

  Chapter One285

  Chapter Two292

  Chapter Three302

  Chapter Four311

  Chapter Five316

  Chapter Six319

  Chapter Seven325

  Chapter Eight330

  Chapter Nine337

  Chapter Ten340

  Chapter Eleven343

  Chapter Twelve352

  Chapter Thirteen361

  Chapter Fourteen364

  Chapter Fifteen368

  Chapter Sixteen374

  Chapter Seventeen379

  Chapter Eighteen381

  Chapter Nineteen385

  Chapter Twenty390

  Chapter Twenty-One399

  Chapter Twenty-Two404

  Chapter Twenty-Three409

  Chapter Twenty-Four416

  Chapter Twenty-Five421

  Chapter Twenty-Six426

  Chapter Twenty-Seven430

  Chapter Twenty-Eight435

  Chapter Twenty-Nine437

  Chapter Thirty441

  Chapter Thirty-One448

  Chapter Thirty-Two454

  Chapter Thirty-Three458

  Chapter Thirty-Four463

  Chapter Thirty-Five467

  Chapter Thirty-Six473

  Chapter Thirty-Seven476

  Chapter Thirty-Eight484

  Chapter Thirty-Nine487

  Chapter Forty494

  Chapter Forty-One499

  Chapter Forty-Two504

  Chapter Forty-Three507

  Chapter Forty-Four517

  Chapter Forty-Five527

  Chapter Forty-Six536

  Epilogue538

  Acknowledgments542

  Deadly dance:A Daath Short544

  Chapter One545

  Chapter Two549

  Chapter Three554

  Chapter Four564

  Chapter Five574

  Chapter Six578

  Crimson Tides:Book Three583

  Chapter One 584

  Chapter Two 590

  Chapter Three 595

  Chapter Four 602

  Chapter Five606

  Chapter Six609

  Chapter Seven613

  Chapter Eight619

  Chapter Nine 626

  Chapter Ten630

  Chapter Eleven636

  Chapter Twelve640

  Chapter Thirteen 644

  Chapter Fourteen646

  Chapter Fifteen651

  Chapter Sixteen654

  Chapter Seventeen656

  Chapter Eighteen661

  Chapter Nineteen667

  Chapter Twenty 674

  Chapter Twenty-One 682

  Chapter Twenty-Two686

  Chapter Twenty-Three692

  Chapter Twenty-Four695

  Chapter Twenty-Five698

  Chapter Twenty-Six701

  Chapter Twenty-Seven708

  Chapter Twenty-Eight712

  Chapter Twenty-Nine720

  Chapter Thirty727

  Chapter Thirty-One733

  Chapter Thirty-Two737

  Chapter Thirty-Three740

  Chapter Thirty-Four743

  Chapter Thirty-Five747

  Chapter Thirty-Six751

  Chapter Thirty-Seven756

  Chapter Thirty-Eight759

  Chapter Thirty-Nine762

  Chapter Forty768

  Chapter Forty-One774

  Chapter Forty-Two782

  Chapter Forty-Three786

  Chapter Forty-Four790

  Chapter Forty-Five795

  Chapter Forty-Five 801

  Chapter Forty-Seven805

  Chapter Forty-Eight808

  Deceptively Beautiful:811

  A Daath Wedding

  Chapter One813

  Chapter Two818

  Chapter Three823

  Chapter Four828

  Chapter Five832

  Chapter Six837

  Chapter Seven841

  Chapter Eight849

  Chapter Nine857

  Chapter Ten860

  Chapter Eleven864

  Chapter Twelve869

  Chapter Thirteen875

  Chapter Fourteen881

  Chapter Fifteen890

  Chapter Sixteen896

  Chapter Seventeen901

  Chapter Eighteen904


  Chapter Nineteen911

  Chapter Twenty916

  Chapter Twenty-One919

  Thank you for Reading924

  The Daath

  Chronciles

  Anthology

  Broken Forest

  Wicked path

  Deadly dance

  Crimson Tides

  Deceptively Beautiful

  The Daath Chronicles

  © 2019 Eliza Tilton http://elizatilton.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means including photocopying, recording, or information storage and retrieval without permission in writing from the author.

  Orginal Book Cover Art by Eugene Teplitsky

  http://eugeneteplitsky.deviantart.com

  Anthology Cover by Eliza Tilton

  www.elizatilton.com

  Give feedback on the book at:

  info@elizatilton.com

  Twitter: @elizatilton

  Printed in the U.S.A

  TO SM

  Broken Forest:Book One

  Chapter One

  Avikar

  I slid my feet into the hard leather boots, hating the feel of the rough material and what it stood for—I was a slave, or at least I felt like one. Trapped and overworked. The rooster crowed again, reminding me of the hour, but I didn’t care. Staring at the empty cot across from mine, I wondered if things would be different if my brother were still alive.

  “Avikar,” my father said. “You get your hide outside before that blasted bird croaks again!”

  Arguing with “the king of the farm” would only result in extra chores and no supper. I finished lacing my boots and strapped on my belt. The wooden floorboards creaked beneath me, billowing dust into my sisters’ room. I grabbed the small ladder and climbed out of my loft. In the common room, Mother kneaded dough while Calli ate at the table. After washing my hands in the bin, I slumped into the chair next to Calli and grabbed a bowl of rue.

  “Where did Father go?” I said. Two empty seats surrounded the table. One for Father and one for Jimri.

  “Poppa’s outside,” Calli replied in between bites. “You’re late, again.” She swung her legs back and forth underneath the table.

  Mother poured me a cup of fresh milk. “You all right, honey?”

  “Just tired,” I said, and dunked a piece of fanna into the clay bowl. The dense bread absorbed the onion-flavored liquid, and I shoved it in my mouth.

  Disbelief filled my mother’s eyes. She always seemed to know when I was lying, but she nodded and left me alone.

  Jeslyn walked in carrying two wicker baskets. She pouted at Calli. “Calli, you’re not dressed yet?” She fidgeted with her dress. “There’s too much to do today. I wanted to be gone already.”

  Calli stuffed the rest of her food into her mouth and jumped off the chair.

  “Don’t run while you’re eating!” Mother yelled after her, but Calli was already halfway to her room.

  Jeslyn looked my way, her brows narrowing. For the fifth time, she said, “Don’t forget, Avi, keep Derrick busy until supper. He doesn’t know about tonight.”

  She and my best friend were courting.

  I guzzled my milk and watched Mother scurry around the table, wiping off crumbs. “Did you ask Father if I could quit early?”

  My father believed in a full day’s work. Anything less was unacceptable.

  Mother collected the empty bowls. “Yes, you can leave after the stalls are clean.”

  Only my perfect sister could get me out of chores. Poppa’s little girl.

  I left the remainder of my bland food and hustled out the backdoor.

  Jumper, my father’s right hand man, exited the outhouse. The old fellow wore a hat too big for his thin leathered face. “Morning,” I said.

  “Morning, Avikar, Mr. Kingston will be here in an hour. We need that mare in the corral now.”

  I pushed open the large barn door; stuffy heat slapped my cheeks. Twenty hungry horses filled those stalls, all of them waiting for me to feed them. One of the other farm hands had already taken the palomino mare out. I grabbed her reins and led her outside.

  The horse would fetch Father a high price. Her silky mane glistened like liquid ivory, matching the stripe down her nose. Standing at nearly seventeen hands—and a solid eleven hundred stones—she was a beauty and one of our best.

  The horse neighed, and I rubbed her side. “Pretty soon you’ll be making some folks a lot of coin.” She snorted in reply.

  “I know. Running in a race isn’t the same as running free.”

  Father and Jumper stood on the outside of the corral. I guided the mare through the gate and closed the latch behind her. She trotted around the enclosed circle, and I stepped onto the bottom rung of the wooden fence to get a better view.

  A sharp whistle caught my attention. Father, wearing his usual scowl, pointed at the stables.

  “Yeah, I’m going.” As I contemplated letting the pigs out in Mother’s garden, I thought about one thing.

  One day, I’d leave and never look back.

  The suns blazed, engulfing me in heat. I threw the rake on the ground, wiped the sweat off my brow, and pushed the hair off of my face. My hair always bothered me while I worked, and on the really hot days, I thought of cutting it all off. I’d never do that, though. The village girls had a thing for my auburn hair. They said the color made my pale-green eyes stand out, giving them a haunting effect.

  In front of me lay rows of round flat heat-dried dung. I’d become so used to the biting smell it only partially stung my nose. A haze from the cakes hovered above the ground. At this time of day, the suns were directly overhead. Watching. The two giant eyes of The Creator.

  Stretching, I flexed my sore muscles, examining the definition in my arms. I’d gotten bigger in the past year. The one good thing about working on the farm.

  I wanted to see if Mr. Kingston bought that mare, but stopping to ask would only aggravate Father, and I was already on his bad side. He said I had a lazy attitude. I didn’t. I just never pictured living out my days raking manure. This isn’t what I wanted, but what I wanted had died with Jimri.

  With my chores finally finished, I headed down the dirt road that would take me into the village. Scattered clouds dotted the sky, and a cool wind passed through the trees. I whistled while I walked, enjoying the fresh air. The village was almost half a day’s journey from home, but on days like this, I didn’t mind the long walk.

  Flanking the road were tall oak trees, budding with leaves. Their limbs reaching high into the sky. I gazed up at them. Lakewood was known for its green hues and ancient oaks. Even though we lived inland, streams from the Great River passed through here and intertwined with Middle Lake, the largest lake in Tarrtainya. I wondered what the other eleven lands looked like and if they were all full of Lakewood’s richness.

  It was late-afternoon when I arrived in the village. Without the shade of the trees, the suns heated the air. We were a small community, but close. Thatched cottages wove in between storehouses, the wooden church, and small school house. Far in the distance, I could see the grey stones of Lord Tyre’s castle. We were lucky to have a lord as kind as he. Again I told myself I ought to be thankful for where I was, but I couldn’t. Not any longer.

  I reached the Blacksmith’s shop and peered into the shop’s soot-filled windows, but only saw Derrick’s father speaking with a customer. Strolling around back, I found Derrick banging a piece of metal.

  “You ready to go fishing?” I said. The thought of going to the river, standing knee high in cool water, was just what I needed.

  Derrick slammed his hammer three more times before leaning it against the bench. “No fishing.”

  “No fishing? Why?”

  Derrick turned around, smirking. I
knew that look. He was up to something.

  “I’ve got other plans,” he said.

  As long as I kept him busy until supper, it didn’t matter what we did. “All right, let’s go.”

  Derrick had me so preoccupied with his story of Marsha Long getting caught in her parents’ barn with Philip Baker that I didn’t pay attention to where we were walking. Grazing cows nibbled at grass next to a winding freshwater stream. Large hay bales dotted the open land. In the distance, a silo towered over the surrounding trees. We were by the Wilke’s farm—and just beyond that, the lake—the last place I’d seen my baby brother.

  Chapter Two

  AVIKAR

  Derrick would never get me to the lake. I’d avoided it for the past two years, but this was close, very close.

  “What are we doing here?”

  “We’re entering the match during the festival,” Derrick replied.

  I shook my head. I’d sworn off fighting. “No.”

  Derrick folded his arms. “You can’t keep sulking around forever.

  It’s been two years.”

  I glared at him. “I know how long it’s been.” Derrick’s body shifted into a fighting stance.

  “Forget it. I told you. I’m done fighting.” And it was true.

  Fighting was the reason I hadn’t been watching Jimri.

  Before I could push my way past his stocky frame, he punched me in the chest. The shock of the hit dazed me, and he followed with a left jab. He grinned at me as if this were a friendly spar, like it was old times. But it wasn’t, and I couldn’t pretend.

  He fired three more light jabs, hitting me in the chest and shoulder.

  “I’m not fighting!” I pushed him away.

  He smiled and slapped my right cheek. I took a deep breath. Adrenaline pumped through my body. “Don’t push me, Derrick.”

  He winked and smacked my other cheek. It took every drop of self-control not to wallop him in the face.

  I balled my fists. “You know I won’t.”

  “Then I guess you’ll be my punching bag for the day.” He jabbed me once more and then came at me with a right hook.

  I dodged the throw. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Because I have to.” He charged into my stomach.

  Once we were on the grass, he spun around my side, wrapping me in a headlock. I slipped my palm underneath his arm, trying to break his hold.

 

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