An Empire in Runes (The Runes of Issalia Book 3)

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An Empire in Runes (The Runes of Issalia Book 3) Page 6

by Jeffrey L. Kohanek


  Nindlerod remained quiet, leaving Benny to fidget as he waited for a response.

  Finally, the man nodded. “I had feared as much.”

  Benny was surprised. “You knew this would happen?”

  “No. Of course I didn’t know, you ninny.” The man shook his head. “However, I suspected the planet might be related to The Horde. In a lifetime of researching the histories, I’ve come across only a single mention of a similar object in the sky, coinciding with the last invasion.”

  Recalling what Benny had read on the history of The Horde, he remembered the mention of an object in the sky. He should have made the connection himself. How had he been blind? Shaking his head to clear it, he refocused on why he had requested this meeting.

  “The Horde is why I returned to the Academy. I didn’t come alone. Others came with me, helping to gather an army to face The Horde on the Tantarri Plains,” Benny said. “I came for other reasons. I plan to develop a special weapon, one that could do some real damage to The Horde. I asked you here because I could use some help.”

  A grin spread across Nindlerod’s face. “Of course I’ll help. I’ve been waiting my whole life for something like this.” He rubbed his hands together. “What’s your plan?”

  * * *

  The dark-skinned boy stepped from the stairwell, turning toward the dining hall. Ashland emerged from the shadows, caught up to him, and tapped him on the shoulder.

  “Argh!” he jumped and turned toward her. Holding his hand to his chest, he breathed heavily. “Ashland. You startled me.”

  She gave him a small smile. “Sorry, Jestin.” Glancing down the hall, she found it empty. She needed to watch for Varius and Eldarro, having no idea if either had returned to the Academy. “I need to speak with you, in private.”

  Jestin nodded. “Okay. In here should be good.” He reached for the infirmary door, opening it before Ashland could warn him. With her heart caught in her throat, she watched him check the interior.

  “All clear,” he said as he stepped inside.

  Ashland followed, closing the door behind her.

  The room was as she remembered. Dimly lit by the weak light of a dormant glowlamp, the infirmary was empty other than a single desk. The five cells were dark, their doors standing open. Her last visit to this room had been to rescue Brock after Master Varius divined that he possessed an inherent ability to use Chaos. Using his secret telepathic connection to contact Ashland, Brock alerted her of his situation. Ashland and Cam had arrived just in time, disabling Brock’s captors before they could send him off to a life in prison. Ironically, Brock eventually led the attack against the very same prison.

  She turned toward Jestin and realized that he had been waiting for her to speak while her mind drifted on past events. Clearing her throat, she refocused on the present.

  “Sorry,” she said, meeting his dark eyes. “The last time I was in here, something traumatic happened. I was thinking about it just now.”

  Jestin nodded. “They brought you here after Corbin’s attack. You almost died.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “I understand.”

  “No. That’s not it,” Ashland replied. “I had to come here to free Brock, before we fled the Academy.”

  “Free him? He was locked up?” Jestin asked. “I’ve been wondering why you left. You’re such a skilled healer; you were sure to become a master. Brock too.”

  “Yes.” Ashland took a breath, ready to explain. It was risky, but she needed him to understand. She needed his help. “I’ve got to tell you something. I’m begging you to keep an open mind.”

  “Um, okay,” he shrugged.

  “You know the rune we are taught to be absolute evil?”

  He nodded.

  “The rune stands for Chaos. It is a type of magic, like Order, but the opposite. Order is about stability; Chaos is about change. Order is calm, peaceful, and is tied to life. Chaos is frenetic energy, capable of amazing things, but it’s also capable of frightening destruction,” she explained. “However, it’s not evil. Certain members within the Ministry have decided to keep it a secret, seeking to prevent anyone from using it. When they discovered that Brock was capable of wielding Chaos, they locked him up and planned to imprison him for life although he had done nothing wrong.”

  Jestin’s brow furrowed, wrinkling the Order rune on his forehead. “Did Varius or Eldarro have anything to do with this? They both disappeared when you guys did.”

  Ashland’s brow show up in surprise. “They’re not here?”

  “No.” Jestin shook his head. “Nobody has seen them in months. Varius’ absence forced Master Ferrick to switch to advanced Ecclesiastics training while a few of us adepts have been taking turns training the novices. As you can expect, Vandermark is pretty upset over the whole thing.”

  Ashland felt a wave of relief. She had feared that one or both of them had returned to the Academy. Not having to worry about Varius or Eldarro would make things easier.

  “Well, they certainly had something to do with our disappearance, but I don’t know where they are either.” She decided to be careful about how much information she shared about The Hand or how Varius and Eldarro were involved. “There’s something I need to show you.”

  She stepped over to the desk and dipped a pen she found there into a neighboring ink jar. After tracing a rune onto a sheet of paper, she scooped up the sheet and handed it to Jestin.

  “What’s this?” he asked.

  “Watch.” She smiled.

  Latching onto Chaos, she drew in the tumult of hot energy. Surprise struck when she realized that she no longer had to feed off emotion to access Chaos. She focused on the rune, pouring the gathered Chaos into it. Jestin’s eyes grew wide as the rune began to glow red, pulsing before the glow began to fade. The sheet of paper tilted toward the ceiling, visibly tugging on Jestin’s grip. He released it, and the paper rapidly rose up until it was pinned against the ceiling.

  Jestin’s mouth was gaping open as he stared up at the paper.

  “This is just one of many things Chaos can do,” Ashland said. “It can do great things and it can do scary things. It is a tool, much like a hammer, which can be used to build something or can be used to bash somebody’s head in.”

  Jestin tore his gaze from the sheet of paper to look at Ashland, amazement still showing in his wide eyes. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “A horrible war is coming, Jestin. It’s not a war between countries or peoples. This war is about our continued existence. There’s a dark army out there that wants to destroy mankind.” She felt firm resolve inside, no longer nervous. “We already have Chaos to bash some heads in, but I need your help to gather some healers to help save lives. I’m sure that we’ll need them.”

  CHAPTER 12

  Captain Gavin Torreco trudged through the knee-deep snow, refusing to voice the complaints that threatened to escape his lips. He cinched his cloak at the neck, pulling it tight over his armor. The gray of the leather perfectly matched the gray snow clouds blanketing the sky, while the metal plates adorning the armor clanked in time with each step.

  He glanced up and stared longingly at the small cluster of horses in the lead. He had ridden his mount nearly half of their journey but felt compelled to walk in the snow with his troops. If they had to endure the discomfort, he could endure it as well.

  The horses came to a stop as exclamations of surprise carried over the howling wind. Gavin’s brow furrowed as the riders pointed toward the snow bank beside the snow-covered road.

  A minute later, he and those at the fore of the column of Paladins closed the gap and approached the mounted riders.

  “What’s this?” Gavin demanded
. “Why are you stopping?”

  “Captain,” Terrea Harwinger replied. “Look at the size of it.”

  Gavin’s gaze shifted to where she pointed, his face a grimace as he slid between the horses to get a better look.

  Lying on the ground, half covered with the falling snow, was a massive being. With a tangle of long black hair and pale skin, the beast had to measure almost twice the height of a full-grown man. Only tattered rags covered its body, providing very limited protection from the cold of winter. The empty gaze of death shown from dull eyes that stared at the grey sky. The image sent a shiver down Gavin’s spine.

  Drawing his sword, Gavin stepped within a stride of the monster. He stretched a leg out and gave the banshee a hard shove. The stiff body moved a bit and settled back into place. Yes, the thing was dead.

  “It looks like it froze to death,” he muttered. “Maybe winter will do our work for us,’ he said, louder. He knew better, of course, but any bit of optimism might help to keep his force motivated.

  “How are we to fight something that big?” Kennath Barlon mumbled.

  Gavin spun about. “What hope do the innocent citizens of Hurnsdom and the other provinces have if we do not try?” he said with anger. “You saw what happened in Vinacci. All The Horde left in their wake was endless death and destruction: Entire cities littered with dead Empire citizens. Heads crushed in as if they were rotten melons. Bodies dismembered and eaten. Buildings burned and smashed to the ground.” His anger cooled as sorrow replaced it, the force of his voice trailing off to a mutter. “And the babies…that was worst of all.” The images would haunt him forever.

  Everyone in the group fell still until the snort of a horse disturbed the silence. Gavin glanced back toward the column, finding the foot soldiers clustered together as they waited for him to call out orders.

  “Let’s get moving,” he shouted. “It’s time for The Holy Army to rise up and save our people.” His arm pointed north, down the coastal road. “March!”

  Rather than leading them, Gavin remained at the roadside, appearing to inspect his troops as they passed by. Once his entire army was beyond his position, he let out a sigh. His gaze shifted back to the banshee. After a moment, his eyes closed and he sent a prayer to Issal, asking for a miracle.

  CHAPTER 13

  It was a beautiful morning. Taking a deep breath, Parker Thanes drank in the fresh air. His rear had already grown numb even though he left his camp just three hours earlier. Bouncing on the seat of the wagon, there was no help for it.

  When he reached the gap in the ridgeline, he pulled the reins, and the horses turned north off the coastal road he had taken from Wayport. Yesterday had been a long day of travel, but he had decided to push as far as possible to make today’s run shorter. He should make it back to the compound before noon. The thought of a hot meal made his stomach growl. After enduring three meals of trail rations, the idea of real food excited him.

  The wagon rounded the end of the ridge, turning east as he drove the team into the mouth of the canyon. A low rumble shook the ground. He turned toward the sound and witnessed a wave of torn earth erupt from the ground and roll toward him. He yanked the reins and shouted.

  “Get!”

  The wagon lurched forward as the two horses strained to pull their load faster. Parker’s heart raced as the cloud of dirt stormed toward him, appearing angry and destructive. It was close, but the wagon cleared the wave’s path before it flew past.

  Parker heard shouting and turned to find people spread out along the foot of the canyon wall to the south. A rumble sounded and another wave of earth kicked up in the air, speeding toward the wagon’s path. Parker pulled back on the reins with all of his might. The horses’ necks craned back with the taught reins, slowing quickly. The wave of churning ground passed before the horses and stirred up a thick red-tinted cloud of dirt. Parker closed his eyes and covered his face with his arm as fine debris rained upon him. Coughing and spitting dirt from his mouth, he waved at the air to try and clear it away.

  Parker blinked to clear his eyes, the landscape again taking shape as the cloud of dust settled.

  “Are you okay, Parker?” Brock shouted.

  Parker turned and found Brock running toward him. “Are you trying to kill me?” Parker shouted back.

  Brock slowed as he neared the wagon. Chuckling, he shook his head. “Not at all. You just had poor timing.” Brock pointed toward the ridgeline, where a dozen people stood in a cluster. “We were just working on our training. This was their first chance to test the Shockwave rune. I thought it would be safe place to practice, way out here.”

  Brock pointed toward the prison compound, a mile to the east. “I wasn’t sure how strong some of them might be so we had to get a good distance from the compound.”

  Parker shouted again. “Maybe you should have a lookout next time you try something like this!”

  Brock nodded. “You’re right.”

  A rumble sounded out as another shockwave blasted forth to pass behind the wagon.

  Brock waved his arm, “Come on. You’re going to get another dirt shower if you don’t move quickly.”

  Realizing that another wave would be coming in front of the wagon, Parker pulled hard on the reins to turn the horses toward the ridgeline. He discovered that he was too late as the shockwave plowed past the wagon, covering him in a cloud of dirt again. When the wagon emerged from the cloud, he found that he had passed Brock and was halfway to the canyon wall. He slowed the wagon once beyond the origin point of the shockwaves. Using his sleeve, he wiped his eyes again.

  Parker hopped down from the wagon, turning to see Brock jogging toward him. Brock slowed, mirth showing in his usually intense green eyes. Upon reaching Parker, he patted him on the shoulder.

  “Sorry about that, Parker,” Brock said.

  Tipper chimed in, chuckling. “You might want to wash up when you get back to the compound. You look like you’ve been bathing in dirt.”

  Glancing down at himself, Parker could see that Tipper was right. “Thanks, Tip.” Parker replied. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  Another shockwave blasted forth from the first origin point, soon followed by one from the second rune. Parker watched the shockwaves roll across the canyon floor as he raked bits of dirt from his hair.

  “It looks like you got the supplies we needed,” Brock noted.

  Parker nodded. “Yeah. I even have two gold Imperials and four silver marks left.”

  “Good.” Brock nodded in return. “Why don’t you get in the wagon and loop around so you can deliver the goods to the food stores,” He then turned toward the others. “Jerome, Stein. Since you two have already been able to make the Shockwave rune work, could you jump on and ride back with Parker? He’ll need some help unloading the wagon.”

  Nodding, Jerome responded. “Sure, Brock. It’s not like we can do anything else out here anyway.” He glanced back at the rumbling earth as another shockwave blasted forth. “The effect of that rune is pretty amazing though.”

  Parker nodded. He had seen it tear up two banshees, pummeling them with rock and dirt as it buried them just moments after closing the portal The Horde had used to invade the Empire. He was still curious about where the doorway led and where The Horde came from.

  With Jerome and Stein sitting to each side of him, Parker snapped the reins, and the horses kicked into a trot. They circled behind the second shockwave and headed toward the compound.

  * * *

  Parker felt good, energized. A long soak in a hot bath had helped to wash away the dirt and grime of his travels, while providing a relaxing afternoon. By the time he emerged from the tub, the darkened water had cooled significantly, and Parker’s fingers h
ad shriveled like dried fruit.

  He crossed the compound yard and spotted Brock talking to a man named Felix. Angling in that direction, he found them huddled around a small forge. Felix reached into the fire with a pair of tongs and removed a small iron bowl, golden liquid swirling within the inky-black bowl.

  Felix turned toward a stone block with small shallow shapes etched into it. Tilting the tongs, he carefully poured the liquid gold out. After filling the first hole, he moved on to the next. Within seconds, gold filled all ten shapes carved within the stone block.

  “What’s going on?” Parker asked.

  Brock turned around and found Parker looking over his shoulder. Stepping aside so Parker could see better, Brock responded.

  “Hi Parker,” he said before pointing toward Felix. “Felix here used to cast metal trinkets and jewelry before The Hand kidnapped him. I’m having him make amulets for everyone to wear. In fact, I plan to make as many as I can so our army can use them as well.”

  Parker’s brow furrowed. “What for?”

  Brock smiled. “I discovered a new rune when reading the journals. It will be critical for us to make use of this one when we face The Horde.”

  Parker sighed. “Okay. Stop messing with me and tell me what you’re talking about.”

  “Those amulets,” Brock pointed toward the stone block, “are formed in the shape of the Chaos rune for Courage. I made a test amulet myself and Infused it with Chaos. I put it on Natalie and asked her to go hug Wraith.”

  Parker’s brow raised in surprise. “But Nat’s been deathly afraid of Wraith since the first time she saw her.”

 

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