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

by Jeffrey L. Kohanek

  “I love you, Puri.” Cam said. “I don’t want to lose you.”

  Puri smiled. “I love you, too. You won’t lose me as long as you stay alive. I don’t plan to let those beasts take me.”

  Cam smiled back. “I’ll stay alive as long as you do.”

  “Good.” Puri said, stepping away. “Now, I must join my father and brother to prepare for battle.”

  Turning, Puri took off, running through the tall grass.

  Cam released a sigh, knowing that she was right. She had her part to play, and he had his own role. Breaking into a run, he followed the dark path toward his camp.

  As he ran, Cam considered that he should have returned to his tent for rest after dinner. However, he didn’t regret that he had instead sought out Puri. The past few hours might be the last time they would ever spend together. He would trade a lifetime of sleep for those precious hours.

  As Cam neared the camp, he found it a flurry of activity. He weaved his way through the traffic as he headed toward the tent he shared with Talvin. His tent mate was standing outside, strapping a small shield onto his left arm.

  “There you are,” Budakis grumbled, approaching the tent as Cam slowed to a stop. “Word came in ten minutes ago that The Horde approaches. Tegan made rounds to wake everyone and should be back any minute.”

  Still catching his breath, Cam nodded in silence. Although he had feared it to be the case, he had expected as much.

  “I’ll be right back,” he replied as he ducked inside the tent.

  Guided by the dim light of the lone glowlamp in the corner, he found his sword belt and cinched it about his waist. He stepped outside the tent and spotted Tegan approaching with a group of Brock’s Chaos users.

  “Hiya, Cammy. I’m glad you decided to show,” Tegan chided. Thumbing back toward the group who followed, she said, “These guys tell me they are here for our best fighters. It’s about power something or other.”

  Cam felt a spike of anticipation, realizing why they were there. Ever since witnessing what Brock could do with the Power rune during their attack on the banshee cave, Cam had wondered what it might be like, what he could do with the added ability.

  “Which of you is in charge?” he asked the group.

  “I am, Cam,” Stein replied.

  “Great. I’m glad you’re here, Stein.” Cam nodded, his eyes scanning the group. “I assume Brock sent you.”

  Stein nodded, looking back at the others before responding. “Yes. We are to ask for your best fighters. There are twenty-three of us, and we can each charge one fighter with a Power augmentation.”

  Cam knew that those who received the charge would face the brunt of the banshee attack. In his mind, he had already worked out a list of those he felt were best suited for the role. Facing Tegan and Budakis, he recited a list of names. They both darted off to gather those who Cam had selected. Soon to be blessed with abilities that would draw envy from the most fearsome warriors in history, he would then task these fighters with the unthinkable.

  CHAPTER 27

  Brock glanced backward at Adam, dimly lit by the partially covered glowlamp he held to his chest. Even in the dim light, the boy appeared nervous. Brock’s vision strayed to the western sky and the strange planet that hovered just above the horizon. Blue-tinted white and gray swirls danced upon the globe’s surface. Trailing the sun by mere hours, the planet would drop below the Skyspike Mountains soon, taking its added light with it.

  Brock turned to look forward again and unwillingly recalled his nightmare. The drop beyond the cliff edge loomed a stride away, much like the cliff edge he had tumbled from in the terrifying dream. The plains below the cliff were too dark to discern, beyond the light coming from the strange planet.

  He glanced to his right and nodded toward Nandine and Richard, who stood beside him as they waited for his command. Their actions would start the sequence of events that Brock had so carefully orchestrated. Budakis’ warning about battles being unpredictable lingering in the back of Brock’s mind, making him wish he knew what to expect.

  Once everyone had settled into position, the night had grown eerily still. Without even a hint of a breeze, the rush of the grass dancing had withdrawn and only the distant chirping of crickets remained.

  Brock could sense Wraith waiting beside him, her mood the same as when she was stalking prey. He felt the same way but wasn’t sure if that was her feeding off his emotions or the other way around.

  “How long do you think, sir?” Nandine whispered.

  “I don’t know, Nandine,” Brock replied softly. “The Tantarri scouts told us to expect The Horde to reach us within the hour, and that was some time ago.”

  A noise came from the plains below. At first, it sounded like a hushed whisper, far off in the distance. Something was coming through the grassy fields, drawing closer.

  Brock’s eyes strained as he searched the darkness below. Is there something down there? Is The Horde near or is it too early? The thump of Brock’s own heartbeat began to rise above the din, sending his pulse rushing in anticipation. He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself while listening intently, attempting to use his ears and intuition since his other faculties were at a disadvantage. The rustling below grew louder still, the breadth of the sound expanding.

  Brock’s eyes opened in a flash, his heart racing and stomach aflutter.

  “Now, Nandine. Do it now.”

  Adam stepped closer and lifted the cloth off of his glowlamp. Moments later, one of the two runes etched on the stone in Nandine’s hand began to glow red. Richard’s eyes opened and the other rune on the stone began to glow. Nandine’s rune pulsed before it began to fade and a bright white bloomed from the stone, bathing the surrounding area in light as if a tiny sun had appeared. When the red glow of the other rune faded, the stone began to grow in size. Nandine tossed the glowing stone off the cliff, signaling the others to charge their stones. As the stone fell, it continued to grow larger, becoming the size of a small boulder by the time it smashed into the ground far below.

  Brock turned to watch the line of people spaced out along the cliff edge south of him. Bright lights sprang into view as they launched over the cliff, growing many times their initial size as the second rune took effect.

  As the glowing stones reached the bottom of the cliff, their light gave shape to what lay below. Hundreds of massive beasts had gathered and were attempting to funnel toward the slope to the upper plains. While Brock had hoped they might do even more damage, roughly half of the tossed stones became boulders that landed on banshees gathered below, crushing or maiming them.

  Turning toward the north, Brock saw lights appear a mile away before sailing over the cliff edge.

  “By Issal’s teeth,” Adam muttered. “They’re enormous.”

  Brock looked at the monsters below and nodded silently. He had done his best to describe the beasts, but words could not properly convey the image before him. Wails began to howl, filling the night with the sound of horror. Brock was thankful for the Courage charms protecting them from the debilitating fear that came from the wails.

  “Fire!” Turan shouted from somewhere off to the south.

  Tantarri arrows rained down on the scene below, fired by dozens of archers spaced among the members of Brock’s Arcanists.

  The action of the Tantarri reminded Brock to get his people moving. He turned toward the line and shouted.

  “Light Squad One, back to camp!”

  Nandine and Richard turned to follow Adam and his glowlamp through the long grass. Breaking their focus from the swarm of banshees waiting below, the rest of the group scurried after them.

  Brock looked at the rune he had drawn on
the back of his hand. He closed his eyes and reached out for the storm of energy surrounding him. Without effort, Brock absorbed raw Chaos until the tempest inside threatened to tear him apart. He opened his eyes and watched the rune gleam bright red as the Chaos flowed into it. A wave of cold exhaustion settled over Brock as the rune pulsed and began to fade. Brock’s vision blurred and twisted while his body shook with the adrenaline and strength provided by the Power rune augmentation. The white halo that obscured his vision slowly faded and Brock regained his bearings. Brimming with energy, he gripped his staff and darted toward the battlefield with Wraith racing beside him.

  * * *

  Pherran Nindlerod held up a hand. “That’s far enough, boys.”

  He stepped closer and rested his hand on the machine, caressing the wooden frame before turning toward the lower plains. A line of Tantarri warriors stretched along the cliff edge, raining arrows upon the dark host below.

  “You are dismissed. That is, except for you, Mister Graeburn.” Nindlerod said, looking at Ulric, who towered over Nindlerod’s short frame. “Go crank the launch arm for me. Stop when it’s about three-quarters back.”

  Ulric gave a nod and turned toward the catapult as instructed. While the boy cranked the siege engine arm into place, Nindlerod squeezed the basket to his chest and scampered toward the line of Tantarri archers. As he ran, Pherran glanced sideways and spotted young Talenz and his huge black dog run toward the battlefield. The man stopped in shock and gaped at the boy’s speed, moving as fast as any horse. Even though Hedgewick had described the amazing things Chaos could do, seeing it in action was another thing altogether. It had been shocking to witness Brock’s people create bright light from simple stones, but this was far more amazing. As he watched the boy and dog disappear into the night, he wondered what else this new magic might accomplish, what he might be able to achieve when combining it with science.

  With a shake of his head, Nindlerod refocused on the task at hand. Stepping between two Tantarri and up to the cliff edge, he gazed down toward the lower plains. Bright lights illuminated the area below south cliff, while similar lights lit the fields at the foot of the northern cliff. Both areas and the dark space between them teemed with an imposing mob of monsters.

  Nindlerod spun about to return to the catapult, still hugging his basket of precious cargo. Careful, Pherran. Tripping right now would prove quite fatal, he thought to himself.

  Slowing as he approached Ulric, who waited patiently beside the catapult, Nindlerod carefully pulled a canister from his basket. He held it up for closer examination. The polished brass of the ignitor cap reflected a reddish hue in the light emitted from the plains below, while the metallic flakes of flash powder sparkled within the narrow glass jar. He held the canister out toward Ulric.

  “Please place this in the launch basket, Mister Graeburn.” Nindlerod handed the canister to the tall boy. “Do be careful. If you drop it, you’ll blow us up.”

  The whites of Ulric’s eyes became apparent. “What?”

  Nindlerod gave a reassuring smile. “It’s only a problem if you drop it.”

  The tall boy nodded and swallowed hard. He shuffled over to the catapult, placing the canister in the launch basket before hastily backing away from the machine.

  Nindlerod gave the boy a nod and gripped the launch trigger. A grin of anticipation spread across his face as he released the trigger and the launch arm shot forward. The Engineering Master hurried over to the cliff edge, eagerly waiting to see the result of his action.

  A flash of green lit up the darkness below, the flames turning orange as the thump of the explosion reached Nindlerod’s position. In the light of the fire, he saw three banshee bodies lying among the burning grass while five others staggered about with flames latched onto their tall frames.

  Cackling laughter filled the air. Still laughing as he ran back toward the catapult, Nindlerod pulled another canister from his basket.

  “What are you waiting for, boy?” Nindlerod shouted to Ulric, whose face had gone white with fear. “Crank the launch arm back! I have a few more gifts to send to The Horde. After all, we must properly welcome our guests.”

  * * *

  Cam’s stomach fluttered, knowing that death was coming. It might find him. It might not. Regardless, it would find many on this night. He just prayed that Puri was among the living when dawn reached the plains.

  “He’s waiting too long,” Tegan muttered. “I can hear them coming. They’ll be up here, and we’ll be dead if he waits any longer.”

  Cam glanced toward Tegan, annoyed by her constant jabber. “Brock knows what he’s doing. You have to trust him. He’s earned it.”

  A bright light lit up the night a half-mile southeast of where Cam stood. Moments later, more lights emerged before they plummeted out of sight. Standing in the middle of the burned-out area atop the upper plateau, Cam couldn’t see beyond the point where the slope began. In the dark of night, he couldn’t see fifty feet in front of him.

  A bright light sprang to life to the northeast, as if a tiny star had come to life. It sailed over the cliff edge as other lights sprang to life and followed its lead. Arrows then began to fill the sky as howling wails sounded from below.

  Eclipsing the light that remained near the south cliff edge, Cam saw two shadows rapidly approaching. A moment later, Brock slowed to a stop as he reached their position. Cam, Tegan, Budakis, and Torreco stood in a cluster, waiting on Brock’s direction while the other Chaos-charged fighters stood in a half-circle behind their leaders. Among the group were the eight seasoned fighters who had come with Torreco and ten of the best Paladin trainees from the Academy,

  “Is everyone charged?” Brock asked.

  “Yes.” Cam replied. “Your team did their thing and then bolted back toward camp.”

  “Good. Hopefully they’ll remain there.” Brock stepped past the group and cupped his hands around his mouth before shouting out into the night. “Light Squad Two! Light the field!”

  At the west end of the burnt field, bright lights bloomed, making it difficult to look that direction. Cam turned back toward the slope to the lower plains, now able to see the field before him.

  “Cam, Tegan, Budakis. You and three others can take the north end of the line,” Brock turned toward Torreco. “Captain, you have the most field experience, so you and your team will take the middle section. I will take the last five students to cover the south end of the line.”

  Nodding heads confirmed that everyone understood.

  Brock looked at Cam, addressing him. “It feels pretty amazing, doesn’t it?”

  Cam nodded. “Yes. I feel like I could fight a mountain.”

  Brock smiled. “Good. A mountain of monsters is on the way.” He turned to face the others. “Be ready to retreat when you see the signal.”

  When they nodded, Brock turned and ran toward the south edge of the battlefield with Wraith and five Paladin trainees in tow.

  Cam waved for Tegan and the others to follow as he ran in the opposite direction as Brock. When he reached the north edge of the field, Cam slowed to a stop and glanced southward. He nodded to Tegan, who had settled into position a hundred feet from him. Beyond her, Cam found the other twenty-two fighters spread out in a line that dissected the burnt field.

  Shifting his gaze to the northeast, Cam spotted Talvin and the other archers from the school, shooting arrows from the north cliff edge just as were the Tantarri archers who manned the south cliff. Cam had no idea how many arrows it took to kill a banshee, but he prayed to Issal that the archers were helping to thin their ranks.

  Distant wails grew louder, informing Cam that The Horde was fast approaching. The first banshee appeared as it crested the ridgeline, its towering fo
rm making the tall grass seem short in comparison. The monster cocked its arm and threw a long blade toward Talvin’s crew. Spinning as it flew, the blade sliced through three archers, mowing them down as a dozen arrows pelted the monster. It staggered and dropped to its knees, wavering before it fell face-first into the grass.

  Moments later, dozens of the huge monsters crested the ridge, several trampling over their dead brethren without care. As they reached the battlefield, some of the banshees paused to blast out screeching wails, wails laced with Chaos-charged Fear. Cam gripped his sword, reassured by its presence in his palm. He gave it a few good test swings, the familiar whirling sound of the fluted blade joining the high-pitched screams that came from the monsters. He raised his shield arm and prepared for what was coming. The Power of Chaos surged through his veins, making him feel as if he could do anything. With his anxiety settled, Cam became resolute, ready to leave a mountain of banshee corpses behind.

  Some of the banshees held massive metal blades, pausing to launch them at the humans standing upon the burnt field. The rhythmic whirling thump of the oncoming blade warned Cam and he leapt impossibly high, reaching an apex of three stories as the blade passed far beneath him. Landing softly, Cam glanced toward the other human fighters and found that three of them had been too slow to react, their sliced bodies now scattered upon the blackened earth.

  He turned back toward The Horde as the banshees broke into a lumbering run. Cam picked one out, waiting patiently as beast charged toward him across the open field. When it was twenty paces away, Cam took two steps toward it and launched himself into the air. He swung his sword as he descended and lopped the head off the banshee as it stumbled past him. Landing at a run, Cam swung a wide strike and sliced through the legs of another banshee before burying his blade in another, all the while ducking beneath their razor-sharp talons.