by Matt King
CONTENTS
Other Books
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Garoult
Title
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Author's Note
Other books in the Circle War series:
Godsend
The Last Winter
Ascension
Matt King
Copyright © 2017 Matt King
Published by Heroic Age Books
Raleigh, NC
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover art by Jörn Zimmermann (joern-zimmermann.com)
www.kingwrites.com
To everyone who’s come this far with me
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Once again, I have to thank the crew of people who helped me get this story ready for the masses, including the Raleigh Novel Group, Colleen Vanderlinden, and Jörn Zimmermann. Jörn provided the artwork for Gemini this time, and once again, it was spot on. A hearty thank you also goes out to my beta readers for Ascension. Beta reading is no small task, and the readers I have are generous enough with their time to give detailed feedback on the story. You all helped make the story better and I’m immensely grateful.
I hope you enjoy this final chapter of the Circle War. It may have been a long hill to climb, but I’m really proud of the result.
GAROULT
The salty breeze rushing up from the bay was still foreign to Colliere. She took in its smell and held it, forcing her mind to accept her new home even if her memories could not.
Calamere. Colliere had chosen the island’s name in honor of Aeris and her family. The Garoult contingency had objected to her choice, of course, given that they had already named the island, but the days were few and far between when the Garoult did not take offense to something. It was her job as Revenant to keep the peace between the two races, not dissolve her own culture to gain favor with the three-eyed beasts. Aeris should have chosen someone with more diplomatic skill than me. But she knew exactly why Aeris had chosen her. She wanted the remaining Vontani protected, and that was something Colliere knew exactly how to do.
She thought about her old rival sometimes, when the night was quiet and her people asleep. In some memories, she was Aeris the strong hearted. In others, Aeris the weak. Colliere had never been sure which one it was. In the end, there was really only one Aeris—Aeris of the Vontani—and she showed her worth on the night she fought against the Phaelix for her people’s freedom. Aeris was never weak at all, she just wasn’t afraid to lean on others. Colliere envied her for that. She oftentimes felt the weight of the Revenancy on her shoulders and wished for others to know it. Never once, though, did she ask for the help her heart desired.
Her hand slipped unconsciously to the belt of her armor, where Aeris’s gift sat wedged in its hold. She moved her hand away and placed it back on the railing of her unfinished balcony.
A splinter nicked her finger. She eyed the stray piece of wood, a pointed reminder that they still had much work to do. When the Garoult get here they will no doubt remind us of our slow progress on the Reventry.
It was a point of pride with the Garoult that they were master craftsmen who could build cities as easily as some cultures could raise crops. The Vontani were many things, but masters of construction they were not. Only a few of the remaining women had any knowledge of building structures. Their services were needed in the construction of the settlement, helping the rest of the women rebuild the familiar against the foreign. Colliere kept only one to help with the Reventry, and if she knew her cousin Beryl at all, she would be along any second to remind her of the approaching summit.
“If you’re all done looking wistful,” Beryl said as she marched into the room. “We are late.”
Colliere took one last breath of the salty air. “We can’t be late. The Garoult are coming to us, remember?”
“Yes, but you know we are supposed to greet them at the cove. If we leave now, we may just make it to the docks before they arrive.”
“You should go in my place. Making meaningless conversation is much more suited to your strengths.”
“Yes, I’m sure the Garoult emissaries wouldn’t be insulted at all if they were met with your second in command instead of the mighty Colliere after traveling for seven days. They would hand over all of the livestock we’ve asked for, I’m sure.”
“You have your father’s wit, Beryl.”
Beryl crossed her arms across her chest. “And my mother’s sense of timing. Come on. With your long legs we might still make this meeting yet.”
Colliere stepped back into her room. She reached for the scarenth lying across the bed, a woven metal quarterstaff capped on both ends with bladed disks.
“Put that back,” Beryl said.
“I need it.”
“You’re Colliere the Diplomat today, not Colliere the Slayer of Garoult. If you go down there with that vile thing we won’t get so much as an umari egg.”
“You don’t know them like I do.”
“You’re still thinking about the Phaelix’ Garoult. This is the new Garoult. All they want is to show up and act superior for a few minutes before they agree to our terms. You can suffer through it same as me, unarmed and with a smile on your skinny face.”
Had it been anyone else saying the words, Colliere would have made sure they left with fewer teeth than they came in with. Beryl watched her with a satisfied smile.
“When we get back, you and I are going to have a talk about the proper way to address a Revenant.” Colliere let go of her weapon and smoothed the fabric of her robes.
Beryl bowed with her arms spread. “And I will listen intently, so long as we leave now.”
Colliere motioned for her to lead the way. With a quick step, Beryl was through the large arched door of Colliere’s bedroom and into the half-built hallway leading back to the Reventry.
Even though night had fallen, the women working construction were still busy trying to finish the walls of the new Council chamber
s, where the various Vontani matriarchs would meet to discuss the structure of their new society. Beryl had seen to it that the main hall was completed first so Colliere could meet with the Garoult dignitaries in something “befitting our heritage,” she’d said. Though Colliere hadn’t offered much in the way of praise at the time, the room was impressive, with high walls and a floor-to-ceiling windowed facade overlooking the cove. She made a mental note to congratulate Beryl during their next moment alone—if congratulations were what you gave for work such as hers.
She held her breath as they passed through the cloud of chalk on their way down the steps to the beach. The Vontani workers stopped cutting the spongy stone mined from the hills and bowed to Colliere. Colliere raised her hand in reply.
“You should speak to them when they do that,” Beryl whispered after they’d walked farther down the steps.
“Why? They look busy.”
“It’s polite behavior, although I suppose I should be thankful you didn’t try to spar with them.”
“I do miss a good fight. Perhaps I can practice on these Garoult.”
Beryl stopped, eyes wide.
“That was a joke,” Colliere said over her shoulder.
The Garoult boat was just visible at the entrance to the cove when Beryl led Colliere up the ramp to the largest of the four docks. A small group of guards crossed bladed chakrams over their chests as they passed. Out in the cove, the Vontani fishing boats—small and narrow in comparison to the girth of the Garoult ship—gave the approaching visitors a wide birth, allowing them a straight sail into the landing.
A pair of stars caught Colliere’s eye while she waited. They were an odd-colored duo shining just above the approaching ship—the larger one a cool white, the smaller a brilliant red. She hadn’t noticed them before, but she rarely took notice of anything outside the borders of their burgeoning city.
“Stop staring at the sky,” Beryl said. “You’re supposed to act regal. Pretend you’re important.”
“My first regal act may be to ban you from speaking.”
“Then you might as well give up the Revenancy because I’m the only reason people put up with you.” She cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders. “Now, do try to smile. Our guests have arrived.”
Colliere did no such thing, but she did take her eye away from the stars in time to see the Garoult ship’s enormous metal hull cut through the water as it approached the dock. It was a boat meant for Garoult royalty, as evidenced by the windows around the main cabin on top of the smooth continuous shell of the boat. The Garoult believed their workers were more efficient if they weren’t distracted by their surroundings. Only the highest class were trusted with beauty.
Once moored, a wide door separated from the side of the ship and lowered to the wooden dock. Colliere’s guards secured it in place before standing on either side to escort the newcomers.
Unlike the Phaelix before him, the newest leader of the Garoult could not stand on two legs. He was, in fact, small for a Garoult, but prideful. He surrounded himself only with those shorter than he, meaning the four Garoult emissaries disembarking the ship were nearly half the size of the warriors she fought during the last Departes. Three of the emissaries wore deep green ceremonial robes whose skirts dragged against the rough wood. The Garoult in the center, a portly older male with silver goggles around each of his three eyes, lumbered toward Colliere and Beryl with a bulky suit of gold and a lopsided gait. Three of his four legs seemed barely able to bend.
“Welcome to Calamere,” Beryl said with a deep bow.
Colliere avoided the smug look of her guests by glancing to the sky again. She narrowed her eyes. That red star seems brighter.
“So what I hear is true,” the old Garoult answered, keeping his eyes trained on Colliere. “You have forsaken the long-standing name of this island in favor of one of your own. This is your answer to a peaceful gift?”
“Calamere was won, not given,” Colliere replied. “I doubt the Phaelix spends much time thinking about the name of this island from his plot beneath the ground.”
The green-cloaked Garoult looked between themselves, huffing and sneering.
“The summer air is stifling, is it not?” Beryl shot a look at Colliere. She motioned toward the dock steps. “We have machines cooling the air inside. Emissary Pol, if you’ll follow me…”
“The Phaelix loved his people,” Pol said, ignoring her. The hairy fold of fat beneath his chin shook when he spoke. “Had he not made the unfortunate mistake of resorting to poison in his fight with the other woman, he would still be ruling this great nation today.”
“He would have been dead faster. And her name is Aeris.”
Pol snorted. “Yes, daughter to your old Revenant, so I understand. She has been gone for some time. Dead, most likely.”
Colliere’s hand reached for the scarenth Beryl had convinced her to leave behind.
“Revenant, should I lead the way?” Beryl asked. She stood behind the Garoult contingency, eyes pleading with Colliere not to make things worse.
“Of course,” Colliere said through a forced smile. She relaxed her hand. “Our guests are likely tired after such a long journey.”
Beryl wanted her in the front to lead them back to the Reventry, she was sure, but Colliere let her take the group on ahead. She fell in behind, watching the large front legs of the emissaries drag against the wooden planks as they walked.
“So much construction,” Pol said. “I smell the pulp of bantham trees. Unless you’ve changed the name of them too.”
Colliere let the remark go without comment. She was more amused by the Garoult trying to show they, too, could use their senses, even though any Vontani could smell the same tree pulp from half the island away.
For no reason she could think of, she looked back one more time at the stars above the cove. She stopped walking immediately.
“Revenant?” Beryl’s voice called from behind her. “The palace is this way.”
“Take the emissaries to the Reventry cellar,” Colliere said. “Make sure they’re safe, then sound the alarm.”
Her hand went to her belt again, but not for her still-missing weapon. It hovered over Aeris’s gift.
“What is it?” Beryl asked. The sugary tone of her diplomatic voice had evaporated.
“We are under attack.”
The red star had nearly doubled in size and was getting larger. If it was some sort of bomb, no alarm would be enough to save the Vontani. There were no defenses. But, if what she suspected was true, it would be no bomb. It would be something worse.
“What is the meaning of this?” Pol demanded.
Colliere shed her ceremonial robe and tossed it aside, freeing her lanky arms. She unclasped the band holding her hair. A surge of sensory information flowed through her thick tendrils, adding a second layer of sight to her already focused eyes. “Go with Beryl. Do not argue with me, creature.”
“I demand to know what’s happening.”
“Demand it in the Reventry cellar, then. I won’t have your death on my hands because you are too stupid to sense danger coming. Beryl, take them now!”
Beryl rushed the emissaries up the path and passed a wordless, anxious goodbye to Colliere before she hurried after them.
Colliere stopped one of the guards from following. “Give me your weapons,” she said.
The guard handed the chakrams to her, then sprinted off to join the growing number of Vontani women rushing toward the Reventry. A few seconds later, the alarm sounded, a deep throng that bounced through the hills and out into the cove. The matriarchs would be gathering their families to their sides as they were once again called to defend the entirety of their race.
Colliere gripped the bladed rings of the chakrams, one in each hand, and waited on the dock. She could see a silhouette in the red star now, confirming her suspicion. It sped toward the cove with alarming speed. It would be on them before most of the women could arm themselves. She meant to give them more time
if she could.
She walked through the rush of Garoult workers fleeing the boat. Some of them had seen what was coming and pulled up the lines anchoring them to the dock. They revved the engines and turned the nose of the boat out toward the open water. It sped away just as Colliere made it to the end of the wooden platform.
She watched the star slow as it approached. It was a man, she could see now, or at least a blinding mass of fiery red light in the shape of a man. He came to a stop over the water and hovered as he took in his surroundings, encased in a sphere of thin red light. Pinpoints of energy raced from his skin, ricocheting back once they hit the edge of his encasement. His eyes were black holes in the chaos, bottomless wells feeding a network of black lines, like the branches of a tree spreading from the sockets.
Soon his black eyes turned to her.
“You have no business here, champion,” she said. Her hands tightened around the chakram’s grips. “You will find none of your kind here.”
“My kind aren’t what I’m looking for,” the man said. His voice stilled her. Not the sound of it, but the way it lacked any sort of feeling, like he knew he had nothing to fear from anyone. There was a distance to it—a hollowness to his words—and it sold his power without him ever needing to utter a threat.
“What do you want then?” she asked.
“You have something called a Revenant here.”
“I am the Revenant.”
Finally, he appeared to have some interest. His black eyes narrowed. “My name is Gemini. I’m here to collect a debt.”
“We owe nothing,” she answered. “The Vontani have earned their peace on this island.”
He laughed to himself. “Who said you were at peace?”
Off to her left, a white spark of light burned to life over the hills along the mouth of the cove. It widened until it took up most of the crest of the hill. She recognized the look of it—the warbling face of the arched curtain. The last one she’d seen had been during the Departes.