by Ben Hale
Epilogue: Burned
As night fell on Margauth the storm came to an end. Flurries of white continued to drift into the canyon but the wind’s fury began to abate. Steeped in darkness and muffled by the drifts of snow, the approach of two men went unheard.
Skorn and Gallow trudged through the piles of frozen white until they reached the crater where Margauth had once stood. Above, the eye slits for the fortress were just visible in the gloom. With darkness augmenting their size, the remaining teeth of the mouth appeared gigantic.
Gallow’s face was sore from his wounds. The woman who had bandaged them had been unskilled, and he could feel the edges of the cuts every time he blinked. The scars would be ugly—but would not compare to Skorn’s.
Gallow cast him a surreptitious look. The explosion had burned the flesh of his face and arms. Although the same healer had attempted to repair the damage, the burns remained, adding to the scars that had already lined his face. Skorn had faced Jack Myst twice, and each time added to his scars. Gallow scowled and looked away, mentally cursing the thief.
“Why are we here?” Gallow asked.
Skorn did not answer his question. Instead he reached into his cloak and withdrew a vial of purple liquid. Then he poured it into the snow at his feet and stepped back. When the snow began to melt and burst into steam Gallow retreated as well. From a short distance away he watched the liquid burn bright, searing a line in the snow.
It did not flow downhill, but moved like a snake slithering through the grass. The snow melted at its passage, leaving a meandering line. The stone glowed underneath, marking the liquid’s path.
“What is—”
“Quiet,” Skorn snapped, and Gallow reluctantly fell silent.
The current of purple liquid carved its way into the crater and then back out, glowing dim and then brightening. Several times it left pools of shimmering liquid behind. Then it found something and came to a halt, the remaining liquid glowing bright enough to cast the crater in purple.
“Retrieve the pieces,” Skorn said.
“Of what?” Gallow asked, jutting his chin out.
Skorn cast him a look that sent him scurrying into the snow. Cursing Skorn under his breath, Gallow pushed his way through the snow until he reached one of the spots of light. There he found a tiny piece of twisted black metal in a puddle of purple liquid. Gingerly he reached into it and picked it up. When the shard passed from the liquid it went dark.
Gallow moved to the next, gathering each of the pieces until he came to the last. To his surprise he found the remains of a broken black pyramid, the edges bent and torn apart. Collecting it, he blinked in the sudden darkness and trudged back to Skorn’s side.
Skorn took the largest piece and examined it, his dark eyes glittering with excitement. The minutes passed and still he rotated the destroyed beacon in his hands. Gallow began to stomp his feet and shiver, the cold piercing even his enchanted cloak. Just as Gallow was about to snap, Skorn reached inside and touched the interior of the beacon. A flicker of light came from within, illuminating Skorn’s triumphant features.
“Will it work?” Gallow asked.
Skorn’s eyes flicked to him as if just realizing he was present. “Of course not, but it’s enough that I can rebuild one.”
“Then why did we have to wait until night to return?” Gallow asked, rubbing his frozen fingers together.
“The thieves believe it was destroyed,” Skorn said. “So they will not be prepared for what I intend.”
“You’re afraid of him,” Gallow accused.
Skorn turned to him, his scarred expression so furious that Gallow retreated a step. “Jack is nothing to me,” Skorn growled.
In spite of his declaration, Gallow noticed a trace of doubt in Skorn’s eyes, confirming the truth. Gallow looked away before his smile could be spotted. It quickly turned into a scowl. How could such an arrogant thief be so vexing? His skill in combat did not even compare to Gallow’s—or any of the assassins—yet he continued to defeat Skorn. Even now Gallow could recall Jack’s mocking laugh, and could not stop himself from glancing about to see if he were present.
“Gather the survivors,” Skorn said, his attention back on the beacon. “And tell them to recruit others.”
“What is your plan?”
“We build a beacon.”
“Then what?” Gallow asked. “What happens after you contact your people?”
Skorn’s smile sent a chill into Gallow’s bones that had nothing to do with the winter. “Then I finally get to watch this cursed world burn.”
Gallow imagined drawing his blade and killing Skorn, but his courage failed him. He lowered his head and followed Skorn back down the snow-filled canyon. He paused at the corner and looked back at the ruined citadel. Scowling, he turned and left. He did not notice the cloaked woman at the top of the cliff.
From the summit above she stirred. Rising to her feet, the observer touched her ring. Orange light flickered in the gem and Gallow’s conversation with Skorn repeated. She listened intently before extinguishing the charm. From beneath her cowl a smile appeared.
“Perfect,” she said, and slipped into the night.
The Chronicles of Lumineia
By Ben Hale
—The Master Thief—
Jack of Thieves
Thief in the Myst
The God Thief
—The Second Draeken War—
Elseerian
The Gathering
Seven Days
The List Unseen
—The Warsworn—
The Flesh of War
The Age of War
The Heart of War
—The White Mage Saga—
Assassin’s Blade (Short story prequel)
The Last Oracle
The Sword of Elseerian
Descent Unto Dark
Impact of the Fallen
The Forge of Light
Author Bio
Originally from Utah, Ben has grown up with a passion for learning almost everything. Driven particularly to reading caused him to be caught reading by flashlight under the covers at an early age. While still young, he practiced various sports, became an Eagle Scout, and taught himself to play the piano. This thirst for knowledge gained him excellent grades and helped him graduate college with honors, as well as become fluent in three languages after doing volunteer work in Brazil. After school, he started and ran several successful businesses that gave him time to work on his numerous writing projects. His greatest support and inspiration comes from his wonderful wife and five beautiful children. Currently he resides in Missouri while working on his Masters in Professional Writing.
To contact the author, discover more about Lumineia, or find out about the upcoming sequels, check out his website at Lumineia.com. You can also follow the author on twitter @ BenHale8 or Facebook.