Serpent Kings Saga (Omnibus Edition)

by James Somers

  Everywhere she turned, Jillian found the ferocious creatures running and leaping at her. Their few hundred soldiers were dwindling fast as death walkers took them down, even with bullets riddling their leathery flesh. Despite those that expired before them, by the hundreds, they kept coming.

  Soldiers were torn to pieces as they fell to groping hands and bloody, insane faces. Every time an ammunition clip emptied soldiers died. Every time the death walkers leaped over those falling before them, catching Varen’s men by surprise, soldiers died. The cavern had become a terrifying, mad house of horrors.

  Jillian slashed at them until her arms trembled with fatigue. Even the gifts couldn’t replenish all of her strength. She knew now, if something didn’t happen, they would all die. Still, she fought to save the man she loved, even knowing that she could abandon him and escape with her own life.

  Varen killed every desperate creature that came at him with the same intent; to save the woman he loved. He had come to the mines of Urtah to free his enslaved people, but he had been too late. He now understood the horrors they had faced when they died. The irony was not lost on him. The slaves had died side by side with the men stationed here to keep them in bondage. Death was no respecter of persons. Now, even the hope of keeping Jillian alive waned with each passing second.

  Then Jillian spotted the corridor through which Varen had brought his army minutes before. Enough of their soldiers had died to provide her the view. No death walkers were coming through that way. They had either been present in the houses carved out of the cavern walls, or were steadily pouring into the mines from other tunnels and corridors that connected with the outside.

  Immediately she snatched Varen by the arm, pulling him after her, trying desperately to reach the tunnel. Their remaining soldiers poured after them, firing their weapons or slashing wildly with swords, trying to keep the fiendish ghouls at bay. The death walkers, their numbers ever increasing, became a great wave washing across the cavern floor, threatening to overwhelm Varen’s meager forces any second.

  Jillian screamed and pulled at him, using her last ounces of strength, her muscles aching with every step. Varen ran after, still firing his weapon’s last cartridges, swiping at every beast attempting to hem them in before they could escape. The corridor was so far away. How could they ever hope to reach it in time?

  REVENGE

  I ran as hard as I could across the quarry floor, following the easy trail left in the gravel dust by Varen’s soldiers. Andrea and Tobias followed close behind. My plan was to enter the mines and search out Varen’s army quickly and quietly. If need be, I would assassinate them from afar with the bow I now held. Some might have supposed me a coward for this method, but the simple fact was that I didn’t have time to take on an army with only myself, Andrea and the boy.

  Justice was justice, after all. I wasn’t looking for some emotional high received from strangling Varen and his woman with my bare hands. However, they had killed Ezekiah without cause. As far as I was concerned, they were murderers guilty of the death of an innocent man. Their blood would be upon their own hands.

  We approached the high stone archway that adorned the entrance to the mines coming from the quarry. I assumed there were many other entrances, particularly on the other side of the mountain, allowing access by those who hauled the unrefined ore to the patron city of Urth; Daimon’s domain. I readied my arsenal of gifts: hearing, strength, sight and speed for what lay ahead.

  Then, to my complete surprise, Varen and Jillian sprinted through the archway, coming toward us. We halted immediately, skidding in the dirt. I instinctively raised my bow, nocked an arrow and took aim. Only then did I notice several things at once. Firstly, Jillian had a look of complete terror on her face, and she didn’t even seem to have noticed me yet. Second, Varen was looking behind them as they ran, aiming a pistol toward the entrance as though he was expecting someone else to come through; someone they were running from.

  Still, my anger burned when I saw them. I let the arrow fly toward Varen. It would be a clean shot through the heart. At least, it would have been. Jillian came to herself a split second after the release of my bowstring. She pulled Varen awkwardly to his left, causing him to stumble mid-stride. The arrow passed by them, but struck something else coming through the mine entrance on their heels.

  The death walker spun around, stumbled and fell with the arrow shaft protruding from its left eye socket. A dozen more creatures surged through the entrance before the first death walker hit the ground. Even more ran through a second later. We were in trouble.

  Andrea pulled me by the shoulder in the opposite direction, running back the way we had come. Jillian and Varen had already passed us by without comment, despite my attack. Tobias was hard on their heels ahead of Andrea and me. The death walkers raced across the quarry floor in a steady stream. Glancing back, as we climbed the hill again, I saw what appeared to be an endless number of them pouring from the entrance to the mines. There was no sign of the army Arthur had mentioned leaving the train earlier.

  I called for speed now, realizing we were in a race with Jillian and Varen, trying to reach the train and escape. However, by the time we rushed back along the winding path through the mountain, Jillian was waiting with her sword drawn. Varen had Arthur by the arm with a dagger to his throat. “Stay where you are!” she warned. “We’re taking the train.”

  Varen backed Arthur up into the engineer’s cab while Jillian stood guard below. I searched for a way to possibly undo the situation, but there was nothing. Andrea had her hand on my shoulder, urging me to remain still.

  Jillian grinned at me. “I should have known the fools we left guarding you would botch your execution.”

  I held my tongue, realizing we only had a moment before the death walkers caught up to us. The steam vented and the wheels of the locomotive came to life. The train pulled forward as Varen forced Arthur to give the big engine all it had. The big pistons pumped the metal wheels, taking a moment to get good traction upon the rails. Then the train surged forward. Jillian leaped to the cab, turning to wave goodbye as the last car passed by us.

  When she went into the cab with Varen, out of sight, Andrea pushed us forward. “Come on!” she said.

  We ran for the end of the train, hoping to grab hold of the last boxcar before its speed exceeded our own. Behind us, a horde of death walkers ran through the old rail platform onto the tracks. Either we would catch the speeding boxcar ahead, or the death walkers behind would catch us.

  Realizing our window of opportunity was closing fast, I called out to Andrea. “Help me throw Tobias!”

  The boy was lagging just behind us. We each took hold of an arm and used the gifts for strength. We hurled him forward through the air. He caught the railing on the last car and held on for dear life. The train gained even more speed as it began to descend along a decline in the track. I knew I wouldn’t make it. Hundreds of death walkers ran behind us drenched in the blood of recent kills.

  Andrea grabbed my arm. “Hold on with all of your strength, Gwen,” she said.

  I had no idea what she was doing, but I did as I was told. I felt myself lifted from the ground a little, hurled forward after the train like an arrow shot from a bow. The surrounding rocky terrain and scrub brush, as well as the tracks beneath us, blurred in my vision. Then, abruptly, we stopped. We now stood next to Tobias upon the narrow platform at the back of the last boxcar.

  I stared at the army of death walkers receding behind us as the train picked up even more speed. I looked at Tobias, who appeared just as startled as I did. Then I stared at Andrea. She was still watching the death walkers struggling to keep up as the train left them far behind.

  “The gift you’ve just experienced is called, The Shadow Walker,” she said.

  URTH

  As the old train engineer had mentioned, their train could easily find its way to the city of Urth on these tracks. In fact, the old man had been stupid enough to mention that they should not attempt to
divert to the adjoining set of tracks as this would lead them toward the legendary rail bridge.

  The ancient bridge would carry them out to sea and the impenetrable fog from whence no one had ever returned. Felonius had considered this information and made use of it. Just past the appropriate junction, he had caused the knowledgeable old thief, who was driving their train, to stop long enough for him to hit the switch and divert the track toward the bridge.

  Now, when Andrea and her new friends decided to bring the other train to Urth, they would end up out to sea, experiencing whatever unpleasant death awaited within the void. Felonius looked back to the Urtah Mountains rising behind them. “You should have learned a long time ago, Andrea...no one makes a fool out of me.”

  The fat man grinned delightedly at his cunning then dropped the shovel he had used to knock the rusty switcher into place. He waddled back to the train and gave the signal to be on their way. The engineer redirected steam to appropriate channels. The hulking, metal snake slithered once more along the tracks.

  Urth lay nestled among several rocky hills, almost large enough to be considered mountains themselves. The city was essentially little more than a vast textile factory, incorporating homes and dragon temples within its gray walls. At the center of the city, Daimon’s Temple sat like a bright jewel within a cave.

  Since the city refined gold, silver and precious gems that came from the Urtah Mountains, they had first pick of the best items. However, Daimon demanded that the only costly array on display be his temple. Even the citizens in Urth wore drab gray-to-brown clothing.

  Depression was said to be high among the people. Many committed suicide by the time they reached fifty years. According to the law of the Serpent Kings, criminals not guilty of any direct affront to the dragons were usually sentenced to life working within the mines. They always needed new workers.

  The locomotive chugged along over hills and between them, wherever the tracks led. Eventually they came around a low lying hill and found the walls of Urth before them. Surprisingly, the tracks led directly into the city through a gap in the wall.

  Felonius was further surprised to find quite a few gaps in the wall. Apparently, these sections of wall acted more like outposts where soldiers could be stationed, though no one ever came to the city from other places. Certainly, no one had attempted to attack it. Apart from the products the city produced, Urth was the last place anyone wanted to visit.

  The engineer slowed the train as they entered the perimeter, finding an entire rail yard stretching out before them. A number of other locomotives were also parked here. “I never knew they used trains in Urth,” Felonius said. The other crime lords sat within the car with him, the lot of them having decided it best to work together in order to survive.

  Zela watched the industrial complex pass by her window. “Probably the best way to move large quantities of ore back and forth from the mines,” she mused. “This is such a dreary place. How could anyone stand to live here?”

  Stanchion chuckled to himself. “And I thought Tarris was bad.”

  Out in the rail yard, several dozen workers stood around or sat on the ground. A few shuffled here and there apparently with no task demanding their immediate attention. Felonius called forward out the window to the engineer; one of Zela’s men who had worked with trains long ago before his time in Tarris.

  “Stop the train!” he said. “Let’s find someone in charge around here. Our food is running out and I’m in need of a bath and love play.”

  Stanchion wrinkled his nose at the thought. “I think I’m going to be sick,” he said to Zela.

  “I can still sympathize with his belly,” she said.

  The train screeched as the great wheels ground to a halt well within the walls of the city. Cranes and carts were littered throughout the rail yard as far as they could see. Yet, no one was working the ore carts and none of the crane arms were moving.

  Snow began to fall over the city as Felonius stood bristling in the doorway of the passenger car. He wrapped his cloak tighter around his substantial girth, wondering how he had come to such a state when only days ago he was the king of the underground, surrounded by loyal followers and beautiful servants. Why had his world tumbled down around him?

  Within moments, the ground was white with heavy, wet flakes. The snow crackled as it came down, sounding very much like an army of ants moving over dry leaves. The pedestrians lazing about the rail yard suddenly seemed to notice the train as Felonius and some of the other crime lords exited.

  The fat man called to them for assistance. They obliged him by approaching the train through the falling snow. All of them wore the same drab gray clothing. No fashion sense at all, Felonius thought. Though when he considered his own unwashed state and the fact that he had been forced to leave most of his valuables in Tarris, he didn’t feel quite so superior.

  As the people converged on the train, Felonius approached one fellow who remained standing with his back to him. “You there! I say, who is in charge here? We are in need of supplies: food and drink.”

  When the man still paid him no attention, Felonius grabbed the man’s shoulder and spun him around. “Answer me!” he demanded.

  The man’s face was gaunt, his eyes black as night. His teeth were stained crimson. The death walker screeched as Felonius screamed in reply, too terrified to move. Not that it would have mattered. The beast leaped upon the fat man, tearing his throat out before the others realized what was happening.

  Zela and Stanchion cried out together as death walkers wearing the uniforms of Urthen factory workers surrounded the train on all sides. Some of the creatures lunged after them as they tried to retreat to the train again. They fell before they could reach safety. In seconds the train was swarming with hungry death walkers, drowning out the cries of their victims in their own blood.

  Not that there was anyone left to hear their pleas. Several days before, whilst the dragons conducted their ceremonies with the priests in every patron city, the citizens of Urth had been transformed into death walkers. Just like all of the others now roaming the kingdom, their souls had been subjugated by malicious spirits bringing madness, mayhem and death.

  DECLINE

  “How long is it until we reach Urth?” Tobias asked.

  I had never been this far from my home in Babale, so I deferred to Andrea.

  “We should begin an easterly course when we leave the mountain and start through the great valley beyond,” she said. “These tracks should take us straight into the city. Felonius and the others will no doubt already be there.”

  Though we had stowed away at the last minute onboard the same train that Varen and Jillian were using to flee from the mines and the death walkers within, we had so far made no attempt to try and reach the engineer’s cab. I had wanted to come upon them unawares, but Andrea had begged me to wait so that Arthur would not be killed in the melee.

  “There will be plenty of time when we arrive in Urth,” she had said. Whatever had happened in her past, I still saw the wisdom and experience of a High Guard Captain in her. So, I waited, biding my time until the train came to the patron city of Daimon planted among the hills below the mountain.

  Only, we didn’t go in the right direction. As the end of the train passed the fork in the tracks, Andrea noticed that we should have gone in the other direction.

  “Well, where are we headed, if not to Urth?” I asked.

  Andrea and I left Tobias standing on the thin platform holding tight to the rail. We climbed the ladder leading to the roof of the boxcar and looked out over the top of the train toward the end of the valley approaching in the distance. Beyond this we could see only blue stretching away, swallowed up by an infinite white cloud. We were coming to the end of the world, and the train showed no signs of stopping.

  The train was speeding up and Arthur seemed to be able to do nothing to stop it. “What!” Varen shouted. “You must be able to do something. Hit the brakes, anything!”

  Arthur fumb
led again with the controls, but nothing worked. The brakes would not engage and the pistons would not depressurize. The boiler furnace was brimming with coal; full and burning. The steam kept coming and the pistons kept churning out power to the wheels of the locomotive.

  Jillian placed a dagger to the old engineer’s throat. “Don’t make me end you,” she threatened.

  But Arthur remained resolute. “Don’t you think I would stop it if I could? Do I want to fall off of the end of the world any more than you?”

  Jillian lowered the dagger again. All she and Varen could do was watch helplessly as the train sped on. It was moving too fast now to jump without killing themselves. Fear kept them bolted to the floor of the engineer’s cab. Arthur leaned out the window, watching the approaching sea.

  Ezekiah saw the trailing smoke over the hillside before the train ever appeared. He and Donavan had ridden down to the sea, but still had no idea how they were meant to reach Haven. The rail bridge extended out into the ocean blue and then disappeared within the fog that never dissipated.

  However, as the train crested the hill and sped down through the valley, the prophet finally understood what must be done.

  “We’re going to what?” Donavan asked.

  “Catch that train!” Ezekiah called back, already riding out to meet it. Donavan followed reluctantly at top speed. Top speed was the only way in the world their horses could hope to catch the mechanical beast that now surged toward the sea ahead.

  Andrea spotted the riders first, their horses frothing as they galloped madly toward the tracks ahead. When I saw them, I did so with enhanced sight, using the gifts. My heart nearly failed me, realizing that the lead rider was none other than Ezekiah. Even with the wind whipping his hair and the look of exuberant madness on his face, I knew it was him. I just couldn’t figure out how it was him.