ALSO BY JAMES MAXWELL
THE EVERMEN SAGA
Enchantress
The Hidden Relic
The Path of the Storm
The Lore of the Evermen
THE SHIFTING TIDES
Golden Age
Silver Road
Copper Chain
Iron Will
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2020 by James Maxwell
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by 47North, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and 47North are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781542005296
ISBN-10: 1542005299
Cover design by @blacksheep-uk.com
Cover illustration by Larry Rostant
For my daughter, Evelyn, with all my love
CONTENTS
1
2
3
4
5
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7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
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17
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19
20
21
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28
29
30
31
32
33
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35
36
37
38
39
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41
42
43
44
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46
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48
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
1
Taimin’s father always said that of all the intelligent races fighting to survive under the two suns, humans were the boldest. Throughout the wasteland, humans hunted, foraged, scavenged, and stole.
Yet Taimin didn’t think that what he was doing was bold. What he wanted was to explore, to seek out adventure far from home. Looking for eggs wasn’t the same as hunting.
He dangled from a rope at the top of the cliff where wyverns nested, but as always the sunburned plain below kept distracting him. He gazed down and imagined himself visiting distant places. Despite the fact he was just a short distance from the homestead, this was as far as his family ever traveled. There were other people out there, so his father said, and he longed to meet them. His aunt warned him there were dangers. Still, he wasn’t afraid.
Taimin’s curiosity grew as his eyes roved over the world. The yellow disc of Dex was rising, which meant that both suns—one close and golden, the other a distant crimson orb—cast their rays on the scorched earth and banished the pale moon. He saw a land under cloudless skies as clear as still water and bounded by hazy red horizons. It was a land filled with fields of cactus, deep ravines, stone formations, and ancient riverbeds. The shades of red were innumerable: ochre and amber, pink and rust. A savage land, a land of contrasts, it appeared completely uninhabitable; yet he knew it contained a bewildering array of life, adapted to the harsh environment, buried within the cracks, nestled wherever water was near.
He searched for movement, or anything to catch his eye, and then his stomach rumbled. At eleven, he was growing fast, and as his brown hair grew thicker, his wiry frame was filling out. He ate as much as his father, Gareth, and his body was reminding him that he was here for food.
“Taimin.” It was his mother’s voice. “Don’t dawdle. Your father can’t hold on forever.”
Taimin felt a flash of guilt as he pictured his father, standing firm while he held the rope that curled around a hermit cactus and stretched down the cliff face. Taimin wasn’t heavy, and his father was strong, but he knew that his father would be anxious. Gareth never stopped talking about the danger they were all in away from the homestead.
He had only been daydreaming for a moment but he forced himself to stop wondering about the mysteries of distant lands and the lives of other people. He rotated his body on the rope and put his back to the view. As he scanned the vertical cliff below the escarpment, he looked for nests; where he saw nests, he might find eggs. Sometimes the wyverns built their nests in caves set into the cliff, other times they found ledges that jutted from the sheer wall.
“Taimin?” the voice of Tess, Taimin’s mother, called again. “Can you see any? Are you all right?”
Looking up, Taimin saw her head pop over the escarpment thirty feet above. The wind blew her dark hair over her face and although Taimin could barely see her eyes, he heard the familiar tone in her voice.
“You’re not daydreaming again, are you? You know what your father says.”
“‘Dreams are for the night,’” Taimin muttered. He called up to his mother as he continued to search the cliff. “I’m fine.” The harness chafed under his arms and the glare of Dex, the near sun, was hot on his back. He spied the entrance to a promising hollow. “I need to go down . . . another ten feet.”
Tess nodded and her face vanished from view. Taimin braced himself in the harness, expecting to feel the familiar yet nerve-wracking sensation of being dropped down the cliff. He was light, but that didn’t mean his father lowered him at a snail’s pace.
Instead, he made a sound of surprise when, rather than drop, he felt himself pulled up. As he drew closer to the summit he again saw his mother’s face. This time when she spoke he didn’t hear concern, he heard fear.
“There’s someone here,” she said in a low voice. “Quickly, climb up.”
Tess’s head disappeared from view and the upward force on the harness ceased. Fortunately, the last part of the ascent was an old rock fall, and by clambering up the boulders, Taimin soon reached the top of the escarpment on his own.
Taimin’s parents stood side by side, shielding their eyes and staring toward the blazing sun Dex; the softer crimson sun was on the opposite side of the sky. Taimin’s father had tied off the rope around the broad hermit cactus, which explained why Taimin had stopped moving. As Taimin wriggled out of his harness, he looked in the direction his parents were watching but saw nothing. He then noticed something that caused a lump of fear to form in his stomach.
Gareth, a lean man with gray threads in his black hair, had drawn his sword. Tess’s left hand gripped her bow and she had an arrow nocked to the string. The obsidian arrowhead glinted in the morning light.
Taimin couldn’t tell what his parents were thinking. Were they just being wary? Was there real danger?
“Are you sure they’re humans?” Gareth asked Tess. Taimin thought his father sounded more excited than scared.
“I’m sure,” Tess said. “They’re riding wherries.”
“By the rains, people . . . How long has it been?”
Tess looked over her shoulder at her son. “Taimin, coil the rope and pack up the harness. Then go and hide behind one of the big boulders until we call you out.”
“What about the eggs?” Taimin asked. “We still don’t have any.”
“Forget the eggs,” Gareth said. “Do as your mother says.”
Taimin felt a thrill even as
he unwound the rope from the hermit cactus. People! He had never seen other people, only his mother, father, and Aunt Abi. What would they be like? His father seemed confident, but looking at his mother, Taimin sensed her uncertainty and wished his aunt were here.
“Should I go and fetch Aunt Abi?” he asked. “She was going to join us.”
“There’s no time,” Tess said.
“They’ll certainly want to trade. Don’t worry.” Gareth glanced back at Taimin. “Your aunt will get to meet them soon enough.”
“They’re approaching,” Tess said. “What are they doing so close to the firewall?”
Taimin wondered if he was supposed to hide now. But he wanted to see the people. His mother said they were riding wherries. Taimin hadn’t known people could ride wherries.
He turned toward one of the stacked red boulders dotting the landscape. Then he forgot all about his instructions to hide as he heard the rumble of heavy feet pound the earth. Two broad-shouldered men came forward; with the yellow sun behind their backs they appeared as black shadows astride four-legged creatures. They reined in a short distance from Taimin’s parents, before one of them kicked his wherry forward.
“We meet in peace,” the nearest stranger said.
“Trade brings civilization to the waste,” Gareth said. The words had the quality of a ritual, and Taimin was again curious about all the things he didn’t know. “It’s good to see humans after so long. We haven’t seen people in what . . . five years? Five years at least. What are you, rovers?”
The stranger nodded and made a grunt of assent as he dismounted from the back of his wherry. His shoulders blocked the blinding sun and now Taimin could see his face.
Taimin looked in fascination at the stranger his father had called a rover. The man had white hair, close-cropped, and was younger than Gareth. His features were angular, as if cut from stone, and he was tall, standing much higher than the broad back of his sand-colored mount. The wherry snorted and shook its floppy ears in an attempt to dislodge the reins from the rover’s grip.
Ignoring Taimin completely, the rover gave Gareth and Tess his own inspection. Taimin noticed that his dark eyes were cold and calculating. “Can I call my brother forward?” the rover asked. Without waiting for a reply, he turned and gave a short wave. The second rover dismounted and led his wherry forward.
“Wait,” Tess said. “We haven’t worked out the terms of this meeting.”
The second rover continued to approach.
“Please, tell your brother to wait,” Gareth said.
Taimin focused on the leader’s brother, a man with long blond hair almost as white as the leader’s. He was obviously younger, with a leaner build. His face was tanned to a deep brown.
Gareth and Tess took a step back. Taimin’s fascination became something altogether different as the realization struck him with force: his parents were afraid. Uncertain, Taimin stood just behind them.
“Where is your homestead?” the tall leader asked. “It can’t be far. You don’t have supplies with you. You’ve even brought your brat.” The rover’s eyes flickered to Taimin. The emotionless stare sent a chill up Taimin’s spine. “Thought no one could find you this close to the firewall, did you?”
Gareth and Tess continued to walk slowly backward, never taking their eyes off the two rovers. The brothers spread out, bringing their mounts with them. The leader took hold of something near his saddle and pulled.
Taimin heard a whisper, like the hiss of a snake, and the white-haired rover suddenly held a shining sword. Unlike Gareth’s blade of pale basalt wood, this sword was made entirely of metal. It looked sharp and terrifying.
Gareth and Tess continued to increase the distance between themselves and the rovers. “What do you want? We can trade,” Gareth said.
“We have nothing to trade,” the white-haired rover said. His lips thinned. “But we need your food and water.”
The leader’s brother drew a sword of glossy hardwood, similar to Gareth’s. Gareth held his weapon defensively in front of him. Tess drew an arrow to her ear.
The distance between the rovers and Taimin’s parents had shrunk. Taimin was frozen in place, watching his parents’ retreating steps. Gareth stopped directly in front of Taimin.
“My wife is an expert shot,” Gareth said. “Neither of you have bows.” He met the eyes of the tall leader. “You’ll be the first to go.”
Under her breath, Tess whispered, “Taimin, climb down the cliff. Go!”
As soon as she finished speaking, a flash of motion saw an arrow shaft sprout from her cheek and lodge itself in her skull. Taimin screamed. He heard his father roar and a strong hand shoved him.
Taimin broke into a run. He took short, sharp breaths as he raced for the cliff. But he couldn’t stop himself looking over his shoulder. He saw his mother lying completely still on the ground. A third man revealed himself from behind one of the boulder stacks, bow in hand. A second arrow darted through the air, this time aimed at Gareth. The shot went wide.
Gareth clumsily blocked a blow from the younger swordsman, and then gasped as the tall white-haired rover thrust his metal blade. The point entered the center of Gareth’s chest.
“Father!” Taimin cried. He came to a halt and wavered. He had to help his parents.
Gareth turned to face his son. “Go!” he cried. He shuddered as a thrust from the wooden sword pierced his side.
The white-haired rover called out to his companions as Taimin resumed his sprint. “Leave the man breathing. We need to find his homestead. Stop the boy.”
Taimin reached the cliff. Something clattered against the rock at his feet and he saw a wooden arrow with feather fletching. He faced the precipice and blanched while he teetered on the edge of the escarpment, forced to choose between two horrors.
Another arrow shot past his head and he lost his balance. He fell and rolled, legs slipping and scrabbling as they sought purchase on what had become a rockslide. The drop beckoned, a fall of over a thousand feet. Taimin took hold of a big rock with both arms to slow himself, but then it began to move.
The rock tumbled with him as he fell.
Taimin’s breath was knocked out of him as he hit a ledge, feeling the twigs and branches of an old wyvern’s nest arrest his motion.
Then the big rock smashed onto his foot. Half his size, he felt it crush the bones together as his ankle twisted to an impossible angle. The pain sent stars exploding in his vision.
Taimin moaned, too shocked to scream. He couldn’t even think of moving his leg, but when the stars faded he gritted his teeth and looked at the top of the escarpment.
He was only twenty or thirty feet down, but it may as well have been a hundred. He knew his mother was dead; his chest squeezed as he thought of it. His father had been badly hurt; the rovers wanted to question him. Taimin tried desperately to hear what was happening.
He realized there was no sound except for the howl of the wind. The clash of arms was gone. Then he heard a loud voice he recognized as that of the white-haired rover.
“Where is your homestead, settler?”
“Burn you.”
Taimin stared up to the top of the cliff. Tears welled around his eyes.
“Ask him about the city.” It was a different voice.
“We’re looking for the white city. It’s supposed to be full of people, so maybe you’ve met someone who’s been there. Well, settler? Anything you can tell us?”
Then Taimin heard a man shout. “There’s someone else out he—”
The cry broke off.
More shouts came, one after the other. Taimin wished he could see what was happening. He fought the pain as he gripped the boulder with both arms and tried to move it off his crushed foot.
As the thunder of wherry feet filled the air, Taimin grabbed onto the boulder’s sharpest edge and pulled. His muscles strained with effort as he tried to get the weight off his damaged foot. His mother had always called him brave when he hurt himself.
H
is mother.
He struggled not to cry. She was dead.
The boulder rocked to the side. He renewed his efforts and grimaced. His hands found better purchase. Heaving with all his strength, he screamed when he rolled the boulder off his foot and it tumbled down the face of the cliff.
“Taimin?” He knew the voice calling from above. Aunt Abi’s face appeared at the top of the cliff. The big scar on her cheek matched the color of her wild red hair. Her disfigurement was old; Taimin had never known her without it. “Hold on a moment. I’ll get the rope.”
The coarse rope soon tumbled down the cliff and Taimin held on, his face contorted with pain while his aunt dragged him over the rockslide and up to the escarpment. Abi’s eyes widened with surprise when she saw his crushed foot, twisted with the bones crunching together like gravel in a sack. Her face registered surprise and something else . . . Sorrow.
She helped him up until he was sprawled out in the area that had recently been the scene of such violence. As she walked away, Taimin lifted his head. He saw his father, groaning as he gazed up at the sky. The rover with the bow lay dead with an arrow in his chest; his lifeless eyes stared without seeing. The two swordsmen were nowhere to be seen.
The realization that his father was alive sparked a moment of hope, but then Taimin saw his father’s gray face and the way he held his hands over his chest. A red stain had spread all over his torso.
Taimin tried to crawl closer, but every time his legs moved a jolt of agony pulsed through his body. He wanted to call out but was forced to grit his teeth against the pain.
“The rovers have gone,” Abi said. Taimin involuntarily turned his head to scan the area; he knew he would never forget the two cold-faced brothers. He focused once more on Abi as she crouched beside Gareth. “You fool. You should have run as soon as you saw them.”
Gareth coughed and blood spluttered from his mouth. He tried to speak. Taimin could only just hear him. “Taimin?”
Abi looked over at Taimin and then back at Gareth. Taimin’s father saw something in her eyes.
“No . . .” Gareth croaked.
“His foot’s ruined. He’ll never walk again. A cripple can’t survive the wasteland.”
“Please . . .”
A Girl From Nowhere Page 1