Deathmarked (The Fatemarked Epic Book 4)

by David Estes

  dying together.

  Blood ran like rivers. Smoke poured from the earth in great columns. Low hanging clouds shrouded all in shadow.

  But that wasn’t the worst of it. No, Roan could feel a lingering power, an aura of dread, of despair, a pall seeming to clutch the entire world in a clawed fist.

  It didn’t feel…natural.

  The Horde poured over them like a crashing wave, killing without mercy, without discretion, a dark tide of death and destruction.

  Roan scanned their number, searching, trying to see past the violence to whatever it was the Oracle wanted him to see, the reason she was showing him this…

  One of the enemy stood out, striding without fear through the bodies, ignoring the chaos around him. He was not of their kind—he was human.

  Their leader, Roan realized with a start. He hadn’t considered that barbarians like these would have a leader, especially not a human. There was something about the man’s gait, like it was too stiff. One leg is bound with metal and yew, Roan realized. An old injury perhaps?

  Regardless, the man strode forward, occasionally lashing out with a hand, grabbing someone. Their screams followed shortly after.

  Despair seemed to follow him like a shadow.

  Roan felt so close to the truth, so close, so close, so—

  Something burned through the man’s shirt, a light emanating from his left breast. Roan stared, the man growing nearer and nearer, the symbol coming into focus through the folds of cloth.

  A marking. A fatemark.

  Oh gods, what have you done?

  The scene vanished and Roan was surrounded by nothingness once more.

  He had the urge to scream, but knew his voice would betray him, leaving him with naught but a sore throat.

  You, he said to the darkness.

  No answer.

  You, he said again, biting down hard on the word. Answer me!

  Finally… Yes. Me. With the power I was given in this very place.

  Murderer.

  She didn’t try to deny it, said only, Perhaps. Or Savior. The lines between such things are blurred.

  Not to him. Never to him. You’ve doomed us all.

  I’ve brought you together. Or, at least, I will. The Four Kingdoms would’ve torn itself apart. Destroyed itself. All the hate. All the anger and mistrust. All the struggles for power and territory. Can you deny it?

  Roan couldn’t. But that didn’t mean it was better to send an evil the likes of which their lands had never seen.

  Do you hate me? she asked.

  He wanted to, but it just wasn’t in him. He couldn’t hate her any more than he could hate Bane. They all wanted the same thing—peace—but had wildly different ideas of how to get there.

  You could’ve kept this hidden from me, Roan said. Why did you tell me at all?

  Because you deserve the truth. Because you have a choice.

  What choice?

  To go back, or not. To live or die. To fight or run. You will not be forced.

  You mean like you forced your son to carry on your work after you died?

  I didn’t force him either. Never. He made his own choice, just like you will.

  I want to go back up. I’m done talking.

  What will you choose?

  I don’t know.

  He sensed the moment she departed, her final words echoing between Roan’s ears. Tell Henry I love him. I will always love him.

  When Roan reached up he could once more feel the rope, drawn taut by his weight. He gave it three tugs and it began to rise.

  Yela slapped him when he emerged from the hole. “We thought you were dead,” she said.

  Roan blinked, surprised by the blow, her words, and the brightness of the sun shining down. It had been hours away from dawn when he’d first entered the pit.

  Even more surprising was when Yela threw her arms around him, squeezing so hard he had trouble finding his next breath. “I’m not,” he said. “Dead, that is.”

  She released him, and as she stepped back he noticed her cheeks were pink.

  Windy grabbed his shoulders, forcing Roan to look at her. “What happened down there? You were gone for hours. We tried to pull you up but it was like the rope was carrying a boulder rather than a man.”

  “It felt like a short while. Time is different down there, I think. I saw…I saw our future. The future of the Four Kingdoms.”

  “The nightmare? The Horde?”

  “Yes. But not only. I saw their leader. He was a man.”

  “A human? But why would the barbarians follow a human into battle?”

  Roan didn’t have that answer, and he couldn’t bring himself to reveal the truth he’d learned. Not until he decided what to do with it. He shook his head.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Who showed you this? Absence?”

  “Maybe. It is all a blur now.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Why are you lying?”

  “I’m not.” Why am I such an awful liar?

  “Fine. Have your secrets. What can you tell us about what to do next?”

  Roan remembered the last thing the Oracle had said to him. Tell Henry I love him. Tell him I will always love him. He looked around for Bear—Henry.

  “He left at the break of dawn,” Yela said. “Said something about being hungry.”

  “Will he return?”

  “No,” Windy said. “I don’t think so. Roan, what is the plan?”

  Roan was angry and frightened. Not that long ago he’d have considered himself a coward. But not anymore. No, this decision was the easiest of his life.

  “We go back,” he said.

  “To Calypso.”

  “No. We are going to Phanes.”

  Seventy-Three

  The Southern Empire, near Calypso

  Raven Sandes

  Raven’s arm was feeling better now, tucked tight against her ribs with a makeshift sling. Still useless, but better. Her vision was still troublesome, one eye sealed shut by the swelling, but that didn’t change anything.

  I have a dragon. And not just any dragon. Her soul. “Siri,” she said, stroking the dragon’s leathery head.

  Siri purred. Up here, after everything that had happened, Raven felt free. Perhaps for the first time in her life, she understood how Fire had felt. Trapped, the weight of responsibility like the bars of a prison, chaining her to a destiny she didn’t know she wanted anymore. She could fly away, anywhere she wanted, never to return. She could become anyone she wanted to, legacies and power struggles be damned.

  If I return, I might die. Whisper might die. Siri might die. Just like Fire. Mother. Goggin. The other dragons…

  And for what?

  Siri’s wings stopped beating as she curled into a glide, the sudden silence so abrupt it was as if all sound had been sucked from the world.

  For Calyp, Siri said. For the land of my ancestors. For what I feel in the heart of the Orian.

  Raven closed her eyes, the air rushing over her like the petals from a thousand flowers. What do you feel?

  Peace, the dragon said. And then she roared, diving for the ground, where the first of the pyramids had just come into view, the early dawn’s light dousing the City of the Rising Sun with color.

  One-armed, one-eyed, Raven knew she would kill her aunt on this day. Or her aunt would kill her. There could be no other ending.

  Goggin

  The pyramids appeared in the distance, backlit by the rising sun, behemoth shadows that might’ve been monstrous teeth.

  “This is as far as I go,” the man said.

  As Goggin turned to the one who’d saved his life, he realized he never learned his name. “Thank you. One day, I hope to return and repay your kindness.”

  The man waved it away with a sheepish grin. “We are all Calypsians,” he said. “There are no debts among us.”

  If only that were true, Goggin thought. “All the same, I will.”

  The man nodded. “Be kind to your next wife. Be a man
worthy of her love.”

  Goggin grinned and turned toward the pyramids.

  His legs still felt as heavy as stone columns, his arms like battering rams. The bag of sand dangling from his waist was heavier still.

  A last resort, he thought, trying to justify his own madness.

  He stomped on, the dry earth cracking beneath his heavy trod. The first order of business was to find a scimitar. The second, to find the usurper, Lady Viper. The third…well, the third depended on how the first two went.

  Something caught his attention. He squinted, shielding his eyes with his palm.

  A bird flew in tightening circles, descending toward Calypso. Except it was too large to be a bird. Far too large.

  Despite his weariness, Goggin began to run.

  Raven

  Hundreds of people stopped what they were doing, craning their heads toward the sky to watch. It was like they’d been frozen in place.

  Not everyone, Raven thought, watching as leather-clad soldiers surrounded the palace, weapons glinting in the early light. She expected Viper to be prepared; by now, the streams would be full of news of their escape from the fighting pits.

  “They have archers,” Gwendolyn warned.

  “And we have a dragon,” Raven said.

  “But no plan.”

  “The plan is simple. We kill my aunt and retake the empire. Any questions?”

  “I like it.”

  Whisper only shook her head.

  The ground got closer. Siri shrieked, a plume of flames bursting from her nostrils. Raven gripped the spike with one hand harder.

  “Whisper,” Raven said.

  Her sister twisted her head around.

  “I’m sorry for what I did to you in the pits.”

  “You mean hitting me in the head with a hammer?” There was venom in her tone.

  “And trying to protect you. It wasn’t…fair.”

  Surprise crossed Whisper’s face. “I don’t care that you wanted to protect me. I cared that you didn’t trust me to protect myself.”

  Raven felt like a fool. Fire had had many faults, but she’d never questioned Raven’s ability. And Whisper had shown her prowess in combat numerous times in the pits. And yet still Raven had thought she knew what was best for her. “You’re right. And I’m sorry. I won’t make that mistake again. I am proud of you. Not because you’ve become a warrior, but because you’ve become a woman.”

  The barest of smiles flickered across Whisper’s face. “It’ll do. Not the best apology I’ve heard, but…”

  Raven shook her head. Gwen said, “Get ready…”

  Arrows flew, a flock of deadly birds approaching. The three women made themselves as small as possible, while Siri hovered in midair, protecting them with her body. The arrows glanced off her thick hide, falling back harmlessly to the earth.

  Raven could feel the moment the battlefire ignited inside Siri, the dragon’s blood heating to boiling in an instant.

  She dove, fire pouring from her maw.

  Goggin

  He entered the city at a sprint, his lungs aching. Thankfully, adrenaline now rushed through his veins, staving off exhaustion. Somewhere, the dragon roared.

  Not the dragon, he thought. Siri. He could recognize her grace and speed from miles away. And if Siri was alive, and Raven…

  He rushed on, weaving through the crowds, most of whom were unmoving, staring up at the sky, where the dragon flew past, dodging and blocking arrows. He tried to see who was on her back, but the sun was in his eyes. He collided with a man, throwing him aside, uncaring about anything but getting to the palace.

  He passed a weapons seller and snatched a broad scimitar from the rack, ignoring the man’s protests as on he flew. Out of the main marketplace, the streets narrowed and he began screaming, “Make way! Make way!” He suspected it was his size more than the warning that caused people to throw themselves against the walls as he barreled through.

  The palace gates were closed, the guards in disarray, like they didn’t know up from down. They weren’t the usual guards, who Goggin would’ve recognized immediately. No, these men were rougher looking, scarred and dark-eyed.

  “Open the gate!” he shouted, shoving the tip of his blade under one’s chin. Another guard jumped on his back, but he threw an elbow behind and dislodged him.

  The first guard looked at him wide-eyed. “I can’t order that.”

  “I am a great dragonslayer, and if you don’t open that gate your empress is going to die.”

  The most effective lie is told with great confidence, Goggin thought, watching as the man offered a hand signal. A moment later the gate began to open.

  “Thank you,” Goggin said, shoving the man aside, squeezing through the center of the doors before they were fully open. Archers kneeled, firing toward the sky. Parts of the palace were already in flames, although Goggin knew most was constructed of stone and would not burn.

  He threaded his way through the archers, glancing at the sky just as the dragon’s shadow passed by once more. The ground shuddered as Siri landed somewhere within the grounds.

  His weapon in one hand, his pouch of sand in the other, Goggin charged inside.

  Raven

  Convincing a dragon not to spew flames in every direction was as difficult as wrangling an eight-legged guanik.

  Finally, however, Siri landed in the private courtyard behind the throne room, dipping her head so they could slip from her back. None of them were worse off from the harried flight, though several arrows had come close enough to snip the hair from their heads. Gwen wobbled slightly, which would’ve amused Raven if not for the gravity of the situation.

  Men and women poured in from all sides, surrounding them. Though they bore the Calypsian sigil on their armor, Raven recognized none of them as her palace guards. She tried not to think about what might’ve happened to them.

  A voice carried across the grounds. “I am most impressed, nieces,” Viper said, striding between her line of guards as they opened a path. She was a strong-looking woman, not unlike Raven’s mother had been, but taller and wirier. There was a man at her side, a Phanecian by the look of his narrow eyes and tan skin. He was tall and muscular—a great warrior, presumably. “Though the appearance of an Orian and a dragon to help you escape was most unexpected.”

  “Aunt,” Raven said. “I am here to relieve you of the throne. Your temporary service is appreciated but no longer required.” Nearby, Siri growled her agreement, flames sizzling around her lips.

  “Will that really work?” Gwen whispered. The mark on her cheek was hidden, though Raven expected that to change in short order.

  Viper said, “I’m afraid that’s not going to happen. You see, my time in Zune, though regrettable, taught me many things. First and foremost was that being castaway and forgotten allowed one certain…advantages.”

  “Like planning a coup?”

  “Let me fight her,” Whisper said.

  Viper laughed. “I thought you were supposed to be the gentle one,” she said. “Alas, the pits make killers of us all.”

  “I don’t want to kill you,” Raven said.

  “Truly? Then you are softer than your mother. She was always looking for a reason to kill me.”

  “You lie.”

  “If you believe that, then you don’t know your mother, gods rest her conniving soul.”

  Whisper tried to push forward, but Raven managed to hold her back with her good arm. “Wait, sister. You shall have your chance.” She turned back toward her aunt. “Last chance to end this without bloodshed. Submit, or I will be forced to destroy your entire force.” She waved her hand across the men and women.

  Once more, Viper laughed, and something about the confidence in the sound sent a shock of fear through Raven. She knew we were coming, and that we would have a dragon. She must’ve suspected where we would land as well, this being the most logical place within the palace grounds. Something about the ground was off, like it was too soft.

  Sand
, she realized, too late. Far too late.

  Viper raised her hand and chains burst from the sand at their feet, tightening rapidly, snapping their legs together. Siri screamed.

  Goggin

  “Stop!” the guard said, but Goggin didn’t, lowering his shoulder and slamming into him. The man’s teeth clacked together and he flew back into the wall. His head made a nasty cracking sound and when he landed he was no longer moving. Blood pooled beneath his skull.

  Goggin turned the familiar corner and moved into the familiar room with the dais and the throne, which was—

  Empty.

  He swiveled from side to side, seeing no one. A sound at the rear caught his attention—an animal scream.

  Siri! He raced onwards, hacking at the curtain with his sword, watching it fall away, revealing the exit to the private courtyard.

  He skidded to a stop, shocked by the scene before him. Bursts of fire scorched the air. Each blast came up just short, as if the distance had been measured out. It has, he realized, seeing the stones laid out. Each guard stood just behind the stones, ensuring they wouldn’t be roasted. There were at least a hundred of them. Enough for a dragon to handle, but Siri wasn’t free, her legs held tight by thick chains.

  Goggin’s breath caught. Her.

  Raven stood near her dragon, struggling to keep her balance as chains forced her own legs together. Whisper was on the ground, her teeth bared. Another was there too, and if Goggin didn’t know better he’d say it was an Orian given her silver hair, catlike eyes and pristine armor.

  A woman’s back was to him, but Goggin would know her anywhere—he’d been no stranger to the fighting pits of Zune. “Viper,” he said, his voice loud enough to carry over the jeers of the guards and roar of the dragon.

  Slowly, she turned, one of her eyebrows quirking slightly. “By the grace of the gods, the commander of the guanero. Goggin, correct? You’re supposed to be at the bottom of the ocean.”

  “It turns out I float,” he said.