Shadowborn

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Shadowborn Page 40

by David Dalglish


  She kissed his cheek.

  “Sure? No. But I’ll tell Rebecca to bump up the date of our wedding. For political reasons, of course. Having the future Archon of Weshern lead the expedition will give us decades of bragging rights.”

  Kael laughed.

  “As you wish.”

  She wrapped her arm around his and pulled him close.

  “Are you ready for your big moment?” she asked.

  “Not in the slightest,” Kael said. “But I don’t have much choice in the matter, do I?”

  He kissed his fingers, then touched the foot of the statue hovering above the pedestal. His gaze lingered on Bree’s stone face a moment longer, and then he sighed long and loud.

  “All right, let’s go.”

  They walked the road northward, exiting the town on their way to the rebuilt cathedral. They were still a half mile away when the crowds of people began. Families sat on blankets, children eating fruits shipped in from Elern and Center and adults sampling Sothren’s finest wines. Cook fires sprinkled the wide field, the smell of roasting meat and smoke watering Kael’s mouth. Here and there wandered minstrels and singers performing for impromptu crowds, soaking in their adulation, and hopefully, their coin. All of it collected into a warm, comforting din of voices, song, and play.

  Wood stalls collected closer to the cathedral, merchants peddling treats and toys and slender torches that burned in a variety of colors. Kael remembered the headache of reviewing every application, Clara having dragged him into the celebration committee to approve or deny stalls and limit what could and could not be sold. She’d argued he needed to acclimate himself to governmental types of work. Kael believed she just didn’t want to suffer alone.

  A woman spun in the center of the road, ribbons covered with gems reflecting the setting sun twirling from her wrists, ankles, and waist. A red-and-yellow mask covered her face, the sides of it sprouting little wings made of bird feathers.

  “Where’s your wings, Seraph?” she called as they passed.

  “I’ve been grounded,” Kael said, smiling at her. The woman laughed and danced to the next couple joining the celebration.

  Soldiers stood guard at the edge of the cathedral, not that there appeared much to protect. The Crystal Cathedral had been torn down piece by piece to its very foundations. The theotechs insisted God wished them to worship in open view of the skies, and so they would in the truest sense. There was more to it, of course. It had been Kael’s idea, another reason he’d been roped into giving the initial speech. All that currently remained was a raised stone dais several feet above the grass field. The dais contained no decorations, no seats, no thrones, nothing but empty space. Exactly as L’fae requested.

  “Rebecca should be waiting for us,” Clara said, needing to lean in close to his ear to be heard over the roaring crowd.

  A wall of people blocked Kael and Clara off from the cathedral. Kael stopped a moment and tapped the nearest person on the shoulder to turn him about. Realization hit the man quickly, and he stepped away to give space while bowing. Others noticed, only a few at first but then rapidly dozens. They parted for the pair, several shouting their love for Clara. A few cheered for Kael as well, and he blushed. Receiving praise still left him feeling awkward.

  The soldiers gave way, allowing them to climb the steps. True to Clara’s word, Rebecca Waller waited in one corner of the cathedral, Archoness Willer beside her.

  “I hope you’ve been enjoying the festivities,” Avila said, smiling at him. She looked an older, more regal version of Clara, with a similar dress and similar diamonds pinning her hair in place.

  “Your speech,” Rebecca said, opening up a small box at her feet. She pulled out a single sheet of paper and handed it to him. Kael glanced it over while squinting in the dim light. He’d submitted it for review days ago, and now he saw it came back rewritten in Rebecca’s clear, concise handwriting. Many phrases and parts were tweaked and changed.

  “You edited my speech?” Kael asked.

  “Under my orders,” Avila said. “This is an historic moment, one that will be taught in schools for years to come. I only wished for you to be properly prepared.”

  “Kael’s grateful,” Clara said, interrupting him from arguing further. “When does he start?”

  “Anytime, though the sooner the better,” Rebecca said. “The longer you wait the more intoxicated, and therefore the louder, the masses will be.”

  Kael looked to the sprawling crowd. A shiver ran up and down his spine, filled with every horrible thought of embarrassment and failure.

  “There’s so many,” he said. “How will they hear me?”

  Rebecca retrieved a long cone with a handle from her box.

  “Shout into that,” she said. “They’ll hear you.”

  She gave him an encouraging smile and then retreated down the steps of the dais with the empty box in hand. Kael looked at the cone and wondered for the fiftieth time why someone else who actually knew how to speak in public didn’t take over the role.

  “You’ll do great,” Clara said, kissing his cheek. “Just call for their attention. I’ll instruct the guards to help if the people don’t notice. After that, it’s all you. Read the speech and relax.”

  “You make it sound so easy,” Kael said, smiling at her. She winked and left the dais with her mother. Now alone, Kael looked upon the crowd of dancing, singing, cheering people. They were unaware of the magnitude of tonight’s unveiling, thinking it only a celebration. But dozens of workers had toiled in secret, following L’fae’s orders to build the brand-new cathedral. Everything was set. All it needed was Kael to give the word.

  Kael lifted the cone to his lips. A handful looked his way, their attention quickly fading when he refused to speak. Iron bars gripped at his throat. Kael thought of a million excuses he could use. He could thrust the speech into Rebecca’s hand and demand she give it. He could order the cathedral’s reveal without any fanfare whatsoever. Maybe he should. This was insane. Thousands of people staring at him simultaneously, listening to his every stumble and stutter …

  A soft voice spoke in Kael’s ear, no louder than a whisper, yet he heard it crystalline clear over the din of the crowd.

  Have faith, little Skyborn. I am here. You need no help. They will hear you.

  Kael took in a deep breath and then let it out.

  “Thanks, L’fae,” he whispered back. He set the cone beside him on the dais. Clara gave him a confused look, and he waved her concern away. People had begun to turn in his direction, a small percentage of the vast gathering. Kael looked to the sheet of paper in his hand, hesitated, and then crumpled it in his fist. If what he spoke would be remembered throughout history, then let it be his words, no matter how faulty or imperfect.

  “People of Weshern,” he said. He didn’t shout it. Somehow, he knew that wasn’t necessary. “Hear me.”

  And hear him they did. All eyes turned his way, a frightened quiet settling over the crowd. Kael felt his nerves sparking with fear and he banished them with an ever-increasing focus. He’d flown skies pierced with the shadowborn’s darkness. He could handle this.

  “One year ago, we defeated the greatest threat humanity has ever faced,” he said. “One year ago, we rose up against the demons that would crush us, and we denied their master who would declare us irrelevant in the eyes of our God. We bled. We died. From the Phoenix to the humblest of men and women, we gave our lives in the hope it would allow others to survive. And we didn’t just survive. We won.”

  Cheers sounded throughout the crowd, hesitant and uncertain. They understood something special was going in. Even the soldiers standing guard before the dais had turned to listen with rapt attention. Kael thought of the flowery words of his prepared speech and cast them aside in his mind. The theotechs had thrived on such language for decades.

  “You’ve heard whispers and rumors,” he continued. “This night I put them to rest. Center still votes for a new Speaker for the Angels, but the role is an irr
elevant one. We will need no one to speak for the angels, for the angels are here, within our islands, keeping them afloat as they power the Beam. They will speak for themselves, and all of humanity shall hear.”

  The whispers and murmurs increased. Rumors of the angels’ presence had grown since L’adim’s defeat. The royal family had neither confirmed nor denied the rumors. Until now.

  “For centuries the angels have suffered and bled to keep our islands aloft,” Kael continued. “Yet for centuries we never even knew their names. Hear me, people of Weshern! They are A’resh of Candren, Fal’Ce of Elern, M’Ra of Sothren, and Ch’thon of Galen, slain by the shadowborn to bring the island to the sea. Three together hold Center above the skies, Rosi’ia, E’lao, and I’lam. Last of all, L’fae, our beloved lightborn of Weshern. She has held us aloft since before we were born, and it is time you met her. It’s time she heard your praise.”

  Kael closed his eyes and whispered in his mind, trusting L’fae to hear.

  The people await you, L’fae. Come greet them.

  The dais rumbled beneath Kael’s feet. A long crack split the stone center, steadily widening. Machinery carefully constructed to L’fae’s orders hummed to life, powered by the blood of the lightborn. Kael descended the steps, his role in the evening completed. The dais shook, the stone rolling away. The crowd fell eerily silent, adding to the religious somberness of the night. Light shone from the newly opened pit as a great beam rising into the heavens. More lifts. More gears turning. Kael walked to Clara’s side and took her hand so they might watch together.

  “You did it,” she said.

  Kael didn’t answer, only squeezed her hand tight.

  The crowd gasped as the tips of the ethereal wings rose out from the pit. L’fae arose atop a solid platform, the sides of it locking into the stone dais with heavy clicks. Tubes coiled out from L’fae’s arms, back, and spine, trailing into a wide hole in the center of the dais. L’fae hovered a mere inch above the ground, light pulsing off her in radiant waves. No chains held her aloft, and neither did they hold her down. Her arms spread wide. Her light twinkled with happiness.

  My beloved, L’fae spoke into their minds. My children.

  The people approached this new cathedral, one of little ornament and no walls. It should have been chaotic, but it wasn’t. L’fae’s presence filled the crowd with soothing calm. Kael felt the peace ebbing into him, settling the last of his fried nerves. There would be so many questions, songs of praise, and crowds simply seeking to be in her presence. As for himself, he was quickly forgotten by his audience, as he preferred.

  “I need a moment,” he whispered into Clara’s ear.

  “I’ll be with L’fae,” Clara replied.

  Kael walked away from the cathedral, no real destination in mind. His hands dug into his pockets, his head bowed. The fields behind the cathedral had been kept clear of revelers, and so to the fields he passed. The tall grass tugged at his pants, earning a soft smile from Kael as he imagined the perfectly cleaned cloth being stained green. The sounds of the celebration drifted away. He glanced over his shoulders once. L’fae shone like a tremendous beacon, her wings floating in the air above her like a lighthouse of old. Perhaps when the night came, you could always find L’fae’s light no matter where you were on Weshern. He hoped so. He’d like that.

  At last not even the murmur of the crowd reached his ears. Kael stopped, his gaze lifting to the stars, his attention focused on one spot in particular. It had been burned into his mind as he’d fallen back to Weshern, the thin gap of darkness between two stars where he’d released his sister into the heavens.

  “I’ve lost everyone again,” Kael whispered. “Dad died during the final battle with L’adim. I never got to say good-bye. We … we never once embraced like we should have. All that time robbed from us, and no chance to make up for it because of what Marius did to him.”

  He sniffled. If only his father had stayed with them. If only he’d rejected the Speaker’s lies and returned to Weshern. If only. If only.

  “I think things will be better now,” he continued. His eyes lingered on that spot. The statue was a comfort, but that point in the sky was where he truly felt his sister heard him. “Tough, but better. It’d be nice if you were here to see it, Bree. You should have been there with me when L’fae rose up before the crowd.”

  He bowed his head, wiping at his tears.

  “Are you proud of me, Bree?” he asked. “I’m trying. I’ll always keep trying. You bought us another chance, and by God, I’m going to make sure we use it.”

  Wind surged across the empty field, flooding the silence with a soft, steady rustle. Kael lifted his hands and let the wind blow across his skin and tease his hair. He imagined himself flying with long feathered wings stretching from his back. Most of all, he imagined he wasn’t alone but instead surrounded by those he’d loved and lost, together with them soaring across the sparkling blue ocean.

  The wind calmed as quickly as it had arrived. The grass ceased its sway. The silence soothed him. The stars blessed him. A weight gone from his shoulders, Kael returned to L’fae, to the scores of people, and to Weshern’s celebration of a better future.

  A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  I’ve learned a few things about myself as a writer while finishing up Shadowborn. I think the biggest is that low fantasy is just not the fantasy I enjoy writing best. Skyborn started out fairly low fantasy (at least compared to the stuff I normally write). Sure, there’s people flying around on wings, and there are some elements shooting around killing people, but that is it. Come Fireborn, I started straining against the limits I’d imposed upon myself. But with Shadowborn, though? I tossed all limitations out the window.

  The start really began near the end of Fireborn, where I introduced the gigantic namesake monster merged together with the bones of the dead. That was not originally in my outline when I first set up this series, but I had tired of constant cat-and-mouse skirmishes with the quick, tiny fireborn. I wanted to try something else, so then came the giant version. Once I had that behemoth speak, pieces of Shadowborn just tumbled into place in my head. These demonic entities became something more versatile, unpredictable, and dangerous. I wrote the first chapter of Shadowborn almost immediately after finishing Fireborn, to test out my alternate path. I created ancient war machines, cannons, and gun platforms. I merged iceborn into giants and sent them in waves. No limits. Anything goes. And I had a ball.

  This is usually how I write, by the way. For good or ill, if I think it would be an awesome image or scene or battle I toss it in and see if it works. Kael’s shield is a prime example of that in Fireborn, an out-of-nowhere addition while writing the chapter. So with Shadowborn I reworked the outline to give myself far more freedom. The Spear of God nuking an entire town out of existence? Let’s do it. Cannons laying waste to the islands? All for it. Kael’s shield growing in power? Giants the size of towns climbing frozen pillars to reach the islands? Liam getting a Metroid-style arm cannon? Let’s freaking go.

  As usual, the success or failure of this gambit is up to the reader. Obviously I hope you very much enjoyed it. If not, well … come on, you have to admit some of it was cool.

  There are a few common questions I’ll likely get asked, so here’s an attempt to head them off.

  Yes, writing Bree’s death scene, and Kael’s ensuing sky funeral, was brutal and terrible and I might have shed a few tears. Not that you can prove I did.

  No, I do not expect to return to this world in the foreseeable future. There’s stuff I could do with it but I think nothing would really top the total chaos and destruction of these first three books.

  Yes, Kael and Clara live happily ever after and have a litter of children who also grow up to be Archons and Seraphim. Not too many of my characters get to have happy endings. Consider theirs set in stone.

  With all that said, I hope you enjoyed this trilogy. I’ve stretched my wings (pun intended) when it comes to world building, magic systems, and unique
combat. I loved these characters, and I hope you loved them, too. And no matter what the sales are or how good or bad the reviews, I still got amazing covers by Tommy Arnold for the Orbit releases. Those alone made this all worthwhile. Also, really quick, obligatory thanks to my agent, Michael; my new editor, Brit; the awesome people at Orbit; and anyone else I may have forgotten. You know who you are even if I currently don’t.

  Most important, thank you, dear readers. You continue to let me live a dream, one I pray does not end for many, many years. I’ll see you at the end of my next book, in a brand-new world with brand-new people to love and hate.

  David Dalglish

  December 7, 2016

  extras

  meet the author

  Photo Credit: Mike Scott

  DAVID DALGLISH currently lives in South Carolina with his wife, Samantha, and daughters, Morgan, Katherine, and Alyssa. He graduated from Missouri Southern State University in 2006 with a degree in mathematics and currently spends his free time leaping around as a giant intelligent gorilla in Overwatch.

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