A New Dawn Boxed Set Two: Dawn of Days, Broken Skies, Broken Bones (New Dawn Boxed Sets Book 2)

by Amy Hopkins

  “I know, I know,” Bastian grumbled as he set the little creature on the dirt and nudged it with his toe.

  It didn’t move. Sighing irritably, he tore a strip off the paper he’d rescued—it was ruined anyway—and dangled it in front of the red ball.

  It twitched. Then, it slowly unfurled to reveal beady little eyes and a long, trembling snout. Just before that snout shot forwards, Bastian snatched the paper out of its reach.

  “Pig,” he said. “Going by that heat you’re putting out, you’ve clearly been eating all day.”

  The creature ambled forwards. Bastian moved, too. He painstakingly led it off towards a bush that had been damaged by the construction work. Those dead leaves should keep the little beast busy for a while, he thought to himself.

  “As many phrases as I’ve got for a set of brass eggs, I’ve got none for a man as soft as you,” Jessop said with a chuckle.

  Bastian spared him a withering look. “We don’t know what they are. Maybe they’re lost, or somehow important.”

  “Your doorknockers are important, too. What if one of those critters sneaks into your bed and chews one off? You just can’t trust a beast that looks like it belongs down a man’s pants.” Jessop nodded once to punctuate his words, then walked over to the workbench. “Should be another one of those plans in here somewhere.”

  Bastian let Jessop rummage through the papers, rubbing his head as he squinted into the morning glare.

  “You look miserable, Mystic!” Tomas asked as he wandered past, a bucket of wet plaster balancing on a stick on his shoulder. “Tansy finally leave you for Mack?”

  “He couldn’t hold onto her for a night, let alone a relationship,” Bastian scoffed.

  “Ha!” Tansy’s voice was bright and clear over the lower grumbles of conversation throughout the worksite. “He couldn’t catch me in the first place, let alone hold on.”

  Tomas laughed and sauntered off, but Bastian’s mind was already skipping across the long, long list of things he had to do.

  He took a moment to re-center himself. His eyes glowed softly as he sank into a deep meditation, years of practice making the transition as easy as breathing.

  Around him, sounds flitted past, ethereal and disconnected, yet part of a bigger symphony. The hum of voices ebbed and flowed, rustling leaves drowning out any silence in between gaps in conversation.

  The faint scent of lavender tickled his nose, a heady aroma beneath the grounding smell of freshly turned dirt and the spice of newly-cut timber.

  Bastian?

  Amelia’s thought floated into Bastian’s mind, not interrupting his peace but gently bringing his mind back to the present.

  Governor? What may I do for you? he replied.

  I just wanted to give you a heads up. There’s a trade wagon headed to Tahn, and with it will be two Arcadian-trained physical mages who are interested in seeing your school, or your plans for it, at least. The governor’s tone was bland, but Bastian’s heart raced.

  Why so soon? He queried. I’m far from ready.

  Word travels fast, she said with a hint of mirth in her thoughts. And once these little trinkets start being handed out, it will go faster. Both of your guests are considering sending children there, if you impress them, and one is also interested in a teaching job.

  A barrage of images and thoughts flooded Bastian’s mind. The two Arcadian women were both well-dressed. Tamara, a dark-haired woman with a stern, scowling face, had teaching credentials from Arcadia as well as experience running a small estate outside of the city.

  Angelica was a plump, smiling woman with tightly curled blonde hair. A widow, she had arrived after three years in her husband’s manor to the south.

  Bastian felt, rather than saw the woman’s doting attention on her two boys and didn’t miss Amelia’s slightly irritated reaction to her babying of them.

  Importantly, neither woman had been a supporter of Adrien. Though they hadn’t fought for the rebellion, either, both expressed goodwill towards the new policies Amelia had implemented.

  Catching his relief at that, Amelia sent a mental chuckle. You didn’t think I’d let some stuck up noble come and teach for you, did you?

  Well, it would be a handy way to get them out of the city, Bastian admitted. Then, with an evil grin, he added, And you know people have a tendency to go missing in the Madlands, right?

  I wish! The governor’s attention faltered for a moment. Sorry, Bastian. Someone just accidentally let off a fireball in the middle of breakfast. Gotta run!

  Very funny, Bastian sent. When Amelia didn’t answer, he frowned. If she hadn’t been joking…

  Not for the first time in recent weeks, Bastian wondered if he really knew what he was in for. Oh, sure, he’d studied at the Temple—in a place where everyone knew each other’s thoughts, and initiates were well aware of what was acceptable horsing around and what was a step too far.

  But in a school with mixed modalities, where some of the teachers wouldn’t even know mental magic, how would the students be held in line?

  “Finished daydreaming?” Jessop asked patiently.

  “Sorry,” Bastian murmured. “I was just chatting to Amelia.”

  “Amelia? She’s another one of your temple friends?” Jessop held two squares of paper up, slightly overlapping.

  “Not exactly,” Bastian said. “She—wait, is that a complete schematic?” The sheafs Jessop clutched matched up fairly well, and Bastian was sure Francis could fill in the details of the room that was chopped in half.

  “Best you go get some copies of these,” Jessop said. “I know enough to keep this lot busy, but once we get to the staircase, I’ll need those measurements.”

  Bastian nodded curtly, then looked around. He waved an arm at Tansy. “Care for a wander back to town?” he called.

  With a lazy step, she dropped off the beam she was balanced on. Bastian’s heart lurched, but she caught herself, grabbing it with her hand and swinging safely to the ground. “Sure. Someone has to make sure you don’t trip over your own feet.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Julianne leaned back in her chair, rubbing her stomach. “I haven’t eaten this much since last time I was here,” she said. “Tahn really knows how to put on a breakfast.”

  Francis smiled. “Our supplies are scant in some respects, but our local goods are second to none.”

  “I’d believe that,” Marcus said, then let out a loud burp. “Sorry, Jules.” He grinned.

  “Bullshit you are,” she grumbled. “That smells like sausages, you pig. Francis, before we started eating, you mentioned something about Danil not settling in?”

  “Oh, he’s happy enough while he’s here,” Francis said, blushing. “I didn’t mean to imply otherwise.”

  “You may not have meant to, but you did.” Julianne smiled. “You know I’ll get it directly from him later, but I’d rather know what I’m in for.”

  Francis shrugged. “It’s just that Polly is itching to leave. They both know it’s safer here—I think that’s what’s got her feet so restless—but everyone can see they’ll be glad once this portal business is sorted.”

  Julianne nodded. “Mystics are either perfectly happy in one spot, or absolutely miserable. I realized after we left that Danil had been bitten by the urge to go on a pilgrimage, so I’m not surprised he’s eager to go.”

  Francis bowed his head, relieved that he hadn’t given away some great secret. “Well, perhaps you could have a word with him? As much as we’d love him to stay and help, we don’t need him, as such. I wouldn’t want him to stay out of a sense of obligation.”

  Julianne laughed. “Obligation? You don’t know Danil. It’s pure curiosity keeping him here. He can’t stand not knowing someone else’s secret, especially if he’s got money riding on it—I assume he has?” Her eyes twinkled, and she grinned when Francis nodded.

  “I believe he has a hefty bag of coin wagered. He bet for the return of the Matriarch, I believe.” Francis shrugged. “I suppose it�
��s as likely an outcome as anything else… Except maybe Gerard’s theory that it’s all another mucker trick, and neither the creatures nor the portal really exist.”

  Julianne raised an eyebrow at that. “Any other theories I should know about?”

  “Well… the leading theory is that they’re beasts from beyond the stars, a species from another world. Danil’s bet accepts that but adds on that their presence here signifies the return of Queen Bethany Anne. Mack thinks they’re slipping through from the world of dreams, and Harlon put money on the chance of them being from another time.”

  Julianne shook her head. “I wish we knew with certainty, but if I hadn’t learned from Danil never to place a bet against him, I’d run with the stars theory. Though our research so far doesn’t give any weight to that theory, apart from the stories of Bethany Anne’s departure.”

  There was one man who might know—Ezekiel. She had sent a group of mystics to seek him out, but knew it was a long shot. He’d left in that ridiculous flying device Adrien had built, and could be halfway across Irth by now, if not flying out to the stars themselves.

  If only we’d discovered the amphorald devices before he’d left, she mused. Apart from the pressing issues they faced, Julianne was also filled with curiosity about Hannah, the young magician Ezekiel had rescued and taken with him.

  Bringing her thoughts back to the present, she asked Francis how the townspeople felt about the strange incursion.

  “Well, the creatures don’t seem to be more than a nuisance,” he said.

  As if on cue, Julianne’s tiny companion wriggled in her pocket and tested the air with a skinny snout. With a clumsy heave, it pulled itself up, tumbling out of her pocket too fast for her to react. It tumbled onto the floor, wrapped itself into a ball before it landed, and stayed that way afterwards.

  Francis snorted. “And it’s not as if they seem to have the aptitude for a full-scale invasion.”

  Julianne bit her lip, then scooped up the spherical beast and nestled it safely in her lap, one hand cupping it in case it tried to scurry away again. Its well-fed warmth tingled on her fingertips.

  “They don’t,” she said. “But what if there’s something else out there, waiting to come through?”

  Francis sobered. “That’s why we’ve got the elite guard out watching the portal.”

  Julianne cocked an eyebrow, gesturing for him to explain.

  “Bette and Garrett are leading them—Sharne has taken over the town guard. They’ve got a few of their best fighters out there, in case something does force its way through.” Francis raised a finger in warning. “Everyone thinks they’re just there because of the remnant. I’d rather the idea of more monsters out there stay amongst us, if that’s ok.”

  “Wise idea,” Julianne murmured. “Though I personally think the remnant are the bigger threat now, anyway.”

  “Yes.” Francis ran a hand through his hair. “Garrett is sure the portal is pulling them closer, but I don’t see that pattern myself. From what snippets the remnant have actually told us, intentionally or not, it seems they’re just displaced.”

  “And the attacks on these guys?” she asked, gesturing to the one in her lap that was just starting to unfurl. She rubbed its belly with a finger, and it stretched lazily.

  “Remember what Bastian said? About the monsters attacking that ‘Chet’ fellow and his horde?” Francis drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair nervously. “I wonder if they weren’t right. If some beast came through and attacked, and they recognize these little critters as being linked to the same event…”

  “You think the remnant are scared of them?” Julianne asked dubiously.

  Francis shrugged. “Portals to the stars? Traveling through time? The Queen returning? Tell me my theory sounds crazier than any of those.”

  “You’re right,” Julianne said. “In fact, you’re making the most sense of anyone so far.” Frustration building, she let out a soft curse. “If only we knew more.”

  There was a loud knock at the door, and the tiny creature Julianne held snapped shut, catching her finger as it rolled into its protective shell.

  “Ow!” she yelped, holding up her hand to view the dangling, cracked ball hanging from it. “Could you not do that?” Julianne begged. Grabbing it with her other hand, she squeezed her eyes shut and yanked, pulling her finger free but leaving a thin layer of skin behind.

  Francis stood and hurried to the door, glancing over his shoulder at the injured mystic. “And here I thought they aren’t dangerous.”

  “Only if you’re stupid enough to get your finger stuck inside one,” Julianne sighed, examining the damage. Thin lines of blood beaded along her finger, which was red and puffy.

  She wiggled it carefully. “At least it’s not broken.”

  “Jules!” Bastian peeked his head in as Francis swung the door back. “Master, it’s so good to see you!”

  She stood and embraced her former pupil, marveling at how much he’d changed since they’d started their journey together. No longer a hesitant young man, Bastian wore the confidence of a leader and the mental strength of one who had seen war.

  Though she mourned the loss of his innocence, she was proud of his accomplishments and his ambition, and she let the emotion flood towards him through a light mental touch.

  Bastian grinned, then grimaced. “Don’t expect too much from a man stupid enough to let his schematics get eaten,” he said, flashing an apologetic look at Francis.

  “Again?” Francis chuckled. “Lucky I thought ahead.”

  Francis stepped over to a cupboard and slipped a key into a hole below the handle. He opened it, catching a handful of papers that flew out. The cupboard was stuffed to the brim with stacks of paper.

  The bundle in Julianne’s lap suddenly clicked open, snout sniffing the air.

  “Oh, no you don’t.” She grappled it by the back shell, picking it up and letting it scrabble in the air with its tiny legs.

  “Is that the one you took to the Temple?” Bastian asked.

  She nodded. “It’s been on one hell of a journey,” she confirmed. “Though perhaps not as big as the one that brought it here.”

  Francis held out a large drawing to Bastian. “You’re a genius and a lifesaver, Lord Francis.”

  Francis grinned. “No, I’ve just lost too damn many things to those vermin.”

  “At least they’re cute?” Bastian said, examining the one Julianne held. He drew back when its snout made a grab for his plans. “What’s his name?”

  “Name?” Julianne asked, confused. “They don’t talk, Bastian. Do they?”

  “No,” Bastian laughed. “I mean, what did you name it. You did give it one, didn’t you?”

  She shook her head, perplexed. “Why would I do that?”

  Bastian erupted into a deep belly laugh. “You’re keeping it as a pet, Jules! You tickle its belly—Don’t deny it, it slips through the mental link all the time—and you feed it and carry it in your pocket. What is it with you and naming things?”

  Julianne shrugged, contemplating the little animal she really had grown to care about. “I never had a pet as a child. I’ve never really been around animals at all, in fact, unless you count the horses I borrowed to travel.”

  “You’re hopeless,” Bastian laughed, shaking his head.

  Julianne scowled indignantly. “Fine! You name him.” She folded her arms expectantly.

  “Ardie.” Bastian threw out the name without hesitation.

  “What?” Julianne dropped her arms, bewildered. “How did you come up with that so fast?”

  Bastian shrugged. “Remember back at the Temple, in the records, we had those little books with hard pages?”

  “You mean the children’s books with the pictures?” Julianne asked, wrinkling her face as she stretched her memory.

  Despite her many hours spent in those rooms, digging through books and literature, shuffling through records to find any mention of strange portals cracking the sky, or incursions
of even stranger creatures, that particular pile of books had never been in her sights.

  “Bastian…” She looked up, eyes wide. “Are you saying you saw these creatures in one of those books?”

  He chuckled and shook his head. Julianne sank back into her chair, deflated.

  “No,” Bastian confirmed. “Not these. But Irth used to have an animal that reminds me of them. They’ve got shells like armour, and long noses. But they weren’t red, and the back carapace was different.”

  Julianne reflexively ran a finger over Ardie’s back. It was smooth and hard, a material that by rights, shouldn’t have the ability to flex and bend as the creature moved, let alone seal up into a seamless sphere when it was scared.

  “So, these… Ardies?”

  “Aaaard-varks.” Bastian spat the word out clumsily, tripping over the pronunciation of a name he’d never heard spoken, only read.

  Julianne lifted her hands and narrowed her eyes, searching the beady, black spots looking back at her. “Ardie?” she said, gently.

  Ardie snorted and rolled back up into a ball.

  Julianne knocked on the hard, round shell. “Well, unless you come up with something better, you’re stuck with it.”

  “What do we call them, then,” Francis asked. “The creature name, I mean. They can’t all be Ardies.”

  “Ardie the Vark,” Marcus said laughing. “I guess Francis is right. We’ve discovered a new animal. It will need a name.”

  “Vark works fine for me,” Bastian said. “What about you, Ardie? Are you a vark?”

  A thin, fleshy rope snuck out of an opening that formed in the ball. It nuzzled Julianne’s finger, then latched onto a fresh bit of paper she dangled before it. Snatching it back through the crack, it snapped shut.

  “He seems ok with it.” Julianne patted the protective shield and slipped it back into her pocket. She felt the warmth on her leg as the creature’s digestive system kicked into gear.

  “I swear you pay that thing more attention than you do to me,” Marcus said from across the table.