Pearseus Bundle: The Complete Pearseus Sci-fi/Fantasy Series

by Nicholas C. Rossis

  She squinted to examine his face in the fading light. There was no way he was lying, she decided. She remembered him now; a scrawny young thing, fresh out of the academy, with the notion of right and wrong still undulled by life’s experiences. It was his eagerness that had gotten him in trouble in Ephia, as he had rushed ahead, with the youth’s conviction of invulnerability.

  “We’ll fight,” one of her escorts said, his fury reflected on his face. “We can’t –”

  “No,” she stopped him, her mind racing. “I won’t cause a civil war, nor will I turn against Cyrus.” He must have found out about my deception. But how? She gave the soldier a grateful look. “Thank you for the warning.” Icy sweat trickled down her temples as she rapidly considered her options. Malekshei lay northeast; she should be able to find sanctuary there. David would surely welcome her, unlike Cyrus. She hated to think of the fate that awaited her if she were led back to the Capital. Assuming that snake allows me to even reach it, without some unfortunate accident along the way… “Tell them I’ve gone ahead to scout,” she said, reaching a decision. Travelling unprepared would not be easy, but she could see no alternative. “Try to buy me some time.”

  “Yes, General,” they promised in unison.

  Spurring her horse, she cut off through a narrow path to her right, leading straight into the tall trees surrounding them. It only took a moment for the forest to swallow her.

  She galloped for hours next to a stream, trailing it to where it merged with a wide river. This would lead her close to Malekshei. Night followed dusk, until she could no longer see where she was heading, yet she kept riding. A recent rain had muddied the ground to the point that it was difficult for her horse to keep his balance, the mud clinging to his legs almost to his knees. She slowed down, not daring to stop; not yet.

  A light drizzle started falling on her face, but she ignored it, lost in her thoughts. What had gone wrong? How had Teo found out the truth about David? However it happened, she now shared his fate. Exiled, to be killed on the spot. Teo had no doubt already sent men after her, to hunt her down, drag her to him. Her thoughts matched the darkness surrounding her, and she slowed down to a gentle trot to make sure she did not crash into a tree. Still, she could not stop. She needed to put more distance between her and Teo. Her hand reached for the energy sword, safe in its saddle scabbard. As long as she had that, she would be safe. Even the lack of light felt less important, as she caressed the hilt lovingly.

  She leaned forward as her steed started climbing a steep slope, leaving the river to her left, roaring somewhere below her. She dug her heels to his side, spurring him on. Grudgingly, the tired beast trotted onwards and upwards. Her gaze travelled towards the overcast sky. The moons had not risen yet, and thick clouds covered any stars. She struggled to see through the darkness, taking comfort in the thought it was her friend; it concealed her from her hunters.

  A sudden thunder startled her. Heavy rain replaced the drizzle, and lightning split a tree to her right with a deafening crash. She cried out in alarm as her horse panicked and rose on its hind legs. She grasped the reins, but he shook her off his back with a kick and a shudder, sending her to crash onto the ground. The force threw her tumbling downwards, until the earth gave way from under her and she found her body hanging in mid-air. Her hands grasped wet roots in a desperate attempt to hold on to something. The river roared somewhere under her dangling feet as her legs swayed in the air. Then her grip loosened, leaving pieces of slippery bark in her hand. She clutched the air in despair as she dropped into the void, no one around to hear her frustrated cry.

  The Marshes

  Lehmor

  His mission had been a failure. Lehmor looked down at his feet as he shambled down the path leading away from the cave. Normally, he would have stayed the night to leave in the morning, but the weight of his failure crushed him. More than anything, he wanted to see Moirah and their daughter; to make sure they were safe.

  A giggle stopped him in his tracks. He cast a confused look around; he had not noticed a girl in the cave, and yet the giggling grew louder.

  The thin-legged metal spiders that trailed him scurried away as an adorable, plump girl sprang from behind the thick bushes, her white hair reflecting the moonlight. A man was chasing her, pretending he could not catch her. They froze in their tracks when they bumped into Lehmor.

  Newcomers? Here? “Hello,” he said, confused.

  “This is him,” the girl said.

  The man placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her. “I’m Marl,” he introduced himself. “This is my daughter, Valentiner.”

  “I’m Valentiner,” the girl confirmed with a proud look on her cute face.

  Lehmor knelt down and took her hand, trying to avoid staring at her white hair. He knew what it meant; children touched by malicious Orbs were changed in unpredictable ways. “Pleased to meet you,” he said, shaking her hand gently, as was the Newcomer custom. He hoped he had remembered the proper greeting; her delighted giggle suggested he had. “What are you doing here?” he asked, relieved that the unexpected meeting bought him a moment’s respite from dark thoughts.

  “My dad brought me to the Old Woman. I was sick, but she made me better.”

  Lehmor stole one look towards Marl. She will never be the same. Does he know? The man caressed his daughter’s hair, and she hugged his leg. “You seem to be fine now,” Lehmor observed, and the girl grinned. There was no mistaking the relief in Marl’s face, either.

  “She owes her life to your Old Woman,” Marl admitted.

  My Old Woman? Lehmor wondered if she was his Old Woman any more. His head spun with the repercussions of the unsuccessful meeting. “I’m glad she could help,” he said drily and sprang back on his feet. “I must –”

  The girl raised her hand in commandment, startling Lehmor. “Not so fast,” she said, a serious look now on her face, like an eerie mask. “He has a message for you.”

  “He?” Both Lehmor and Marl stared at the girl, confused by the sudden transformation.

  “The general. Your friend.”

  Marl and Lehmor exchanged a stunned look. “Parad?” Marl whispered. “Is he here?”

  “Yes. He wants to warn you.”

  Lehmor pricked his ears and knelt, staring attentively at the girl’s still face. “He’s an Orb?”

  The girl nodded. “He wants you to know that not all of them agree with the Archon. He sends a warning: beware the Howling Wolves.”

  Lehmor’s brow furrowed. “Who?”

  “Abaddon,” Marl whispered, his face ashen. “He’s talking about the Destroyer.”

  Lehmor jumped to his feet to grab Marl’s shirt. Their faces almost met. “The truth! How do you know him?”

  “I don’t,” Marl protested. “The man saved my daughter. I call him that because of his medallion. All I know is that he serves the Lady.”

  “I know what the wolves do,” Lehmor scoffed.

  He let go of the shirt, and Marl took a step back, his expression sliding into a frown. “Why is Abaddon after you?” he murmured, patting down the cloth on his chest.

  Lehmor ignored him to grab Valentiner by the shoulder. “What will the Wolf do?”

  The girl’s eyes went white for a moment, then sparkling brown showed she was herself again. “Who?” Lehmor stared at her in stunned silence, and she turned serious again. “We will join you.”

  “Wait a minute, darling, I don’t think –”

  Marl’s words were interrupted by the arrival of a panting woman leaning against a scrawny man with a lit torch as they trudged uphill. The woman looked familiar, but before Lehmor had a chance to remember, Marl’s jaw slackened. “Your Eminence –” he blurted out. The woman raised her hand to cut him off.

  “Just Tie,” she said amidst pants. She wiped her brow and waved towards the man. “Damn, this is steep.” She took a deep breath. “Anyhoo, this is Sam.” The man gave them a simple nod, but Marl snapped to attention, recognising the worn uniform. “Guardian,”
he said and saluted.

  “Not anymore,” the man replied and shook his head.

  “Stop that,” Tie said and nudged him with a fat elbow. “You’re guarding me, aren’t you?” The man smiled a lopsided grin at her.

  “What are you doing here?” Marl asked, confused.

  “Long story.” Tie leaned against a tree, still catching her breath. “Cyrus imprisoned us. We escaped. Came to the Old Woman for help.” She shook her head. “Okay, maybe not so long after all.”

  Lehmor’s brow furrowed. “You escaped the Capital? How?”

  Tie shot him an amused glance. “Sure, that’s what caught your attention.”

  Lehmor pursed his lips. “Cyrus is not himself.”

  “You got that right.” Tie studied him with an unsettling intensity. “But how would you know?”

  “Enough,” Valentiner said with unusual authority. “You must follow us. The darkness is coming. We won’t survive it, unless we stay together.”

  Marl gaped at her. “What do you mean, honey? Where are we going?”

  The little girl met his gaze without flinching. “Malekshei.”

  Lehmor gaped at her for a moment, before jumping to his feet. Without a word, he ran down the hill as fast as he could, ignoring the look of exasperation on Tie’s face. “Seriously, we just climbed up here. She couldn’t have told us before? Can’t we at least wait till morning?”

  The Marshes

  Gella

  The roaring current washed over her, throwing Gella around like a broken doll. She had dropped into the river from the tall precipice. She managed to crawl her way back to the surface and spat sweet water, cursing softly. Every bit of her body felt heavy and ached from the fall, but she let the powerful current carry her. I have to reach the shore. The current grew stronger, the deafening roar of a waterfall farther downstream drowning all sound.

  The downpour changed back to a light drizzle, and the clouds above her broke for a moment, allowing one of the moons to fill the sky with pale light. Thrashing around, she managed to avoid a sharp slab, one of many jetting just under the water. Reaching out, she managed to grab a second one, using it to steady herself for a moment, while she gathered her strength.

  Wiping the water from her eyebrows, she saw the shore in the distance. A quick glance at the sky told her that she only had a few precious minutes before clouds covered the moon again. She let go of the jagged rock, allowing the current to carry her once more. Her arms burned with exhaustion, but she managed to reach a trunk hanging over the river. Holding on, she crawled towards the bank and finally managed to climb out of the roaring river. Dragging herself away from the water, she examined the many cuts and bruises on her limbs and sighed with relief. It could be worse, she comforted herself. Much worse.

  The clouds would hide the moon soon enough; she had to hurry. Groaning, she managed to push herself on all fours and stayed like that for a while. The water burned her lungs and dripped off her soaking skin to form small pools under her. When her head finally stopped spinning, she dragged herself up, standing on uneasy legs. She had lost most of her clothes in the water, and she removed her wet pants; they could offer little in terms of heat until they dried. Looking around, she noticed with relief a small light in the distance. She started towards it, limping and shivering as her leaden legs refused to obey her.

  When she approached, she realised that the light came from an ancient shrine, sitting under a massive rock that sheltered it, protecting it from the rain. She had not seen such a shrine in years; they were omnipresent in the West, but rarer around the Capital. Children were taught to avoid them, superstition covering their existence. They predated the Pearseus survivors and some speculated they belonged to the First, although these did not frequent the West.

  The shrine itself was formed like a stone cube, a small symbol its only decoration – a weathered circle, broken by a simple line. What astonished her, though, was the flame burning within its narrow crevice. It hovered in its middle, with no obvious fuel to sustain it. She cast a nervous glance around, trying to detect any sign of human activity. In the dim light, she could see nothing of the sort; no houses around, nor any other light in the distance.

  Trembling with exhaustion, she turned her attention back to the shrine. The ground before it was welcoming; dry, smooth and soft. She noticed a few branches and gathered them with grateful hands. Pushing them against the flame, she managed to light a small fire and sighed in relief as she lay down in front of it. She needed to rest, just for a moment…

  When she woke up, it was almost midday. She must have woken up during the night to replace the wood, for the fire had only just died. With a grunt, she raised herself to aching legs and tried to figure out where she was. Looking around her, she pursed her lips. The current must have pushed her farther west than she had realised.

  Reaching into the shrine in search for some flint or oil, she silently apologised to whatever deity it was dedicated to. A deep frown creased her brow when she found nothing, and she spat on the ground as the hairs on her back bristled against her skin.

  Her body felt sore all over and she wanted to rest some more, but the creepy place made her uncomfortable. Besides, she had to keep moving; she had a lot of ground to cover, and no horse. She paused for a brief glimpse towards the river. It bore no resemblance to the monstrous beast that had threatened to swallow her last night; in the morning, this was a tame, playful kitten, begging her to come and play with it, eager to plant foamy, regretful kisses on her body. She spun around and entered the forest once again, a bitter smile on her lips.

  Malekshei

  Moirah

  She was used to getting up at dawn, but could not find rest tonight; she hated Lehmor’s absence and had tossed and turned for hours before finally falling into an exhausted slumber. With a loud yawn, she stretched, then opened the wooden shutters. Only the faint light of the setting moons broke the cloudy darkness, and she drew in the moist, chilly air. It was too early for anyone to be outside, and anyway most of them resided outside the walls, inside spacious, colourful tents. She glanced upwards, towards the floor above her, where David’s troupe, as he playfully referred to Annoush and the two bodyguards, shared the top floor of a wooden house the First had built next to the castle.

  Before returning to sleep, she checked on the baby, but she was sleeping the sleep denied her mother. She caressed her forehead with gentle fingers, pushing away fine hair, and headed back to bed. As she passed the window, she caught a movement in the shadows. Craning her neck outside the wooden pane, all sleep left her at the sight of a man slithering next to the stables, a dark silhouette barely visible against the darkness. He slinked towards the side entrance to the cellar that served as makeshift prison. A bit early for visitors. Where’s he headed?

  The figure fidgeted with the heavy door, and after a moment, it creaked open. Out of nowhere, more silhouettes detached from the shadows and crept towards the entrance, the narrow opening swallowing them one after another. Holding her breath, Moirah counted six men before the door closed behind them. More might be lurking outside, she realised.

  Stripet! They must be here for him. She considered sounding the alarm, but a cornered enemy would be more dangerous. Besides, they might kill the Bear, before they had a chance to interrogate him. No, it would be best if she notified the guards discreetly.

  Having made her decision, she slid into her leather jerkin and slipped out of the room, stopping only to grab her Sheimlek and check one last time on her sleeping baby. Once in the courtyard, she slithered along the wall towards the guards’ shed, feeling her way with her hands. Her foot bumped into something, almost making her lose her balance. Kneeling down, she felt a body. Probably a guard. She felt for a pulse; the man was still alive, if unconscious. He would probably wake up with nothing worse than a killer headache.

  A door sprung open before her, and she melted into the stone. A young woman emerged, blowing into her hands for warmth. She gasped as Moirah slipped fr
om behind the door, recognising her in the faint illumination coming from within.

  “Rivka, right?” Moirah said. The woman nodded. “Get help. Be quiet.” Rivka threw her an inquisitive look, then noticed the bundle at Moirah’s feet and rushed back inside without a word.

  Moirah blinked to get used to the darkness once again, before turning the corner. A pale moon broke through the clouds, illuminating a shadow ahead. She considered turning on her Sheimlek, but the bright blade would attract any other lookouts like moths. Pursing her lips, she pondered her alternatives. The man glanced around and she held her breath, fearing he would spot her. To her relief, he headed away instead.

  As she was heaving a sigh of relief, she heard a faint rustle behind her, and she whirled around just in time to escape a man’s grip. A split second later, her burning Sheimlek was in her hands, splitting the night’s darkness. To her dismay, the man produced his own weapon, firing it up. Another Sheimlek? Who is this man?

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he assured her. “We’re only here for the Bear.”

  So, she was right; Stripet was their target. But who were they? Were they Iota? Had she stumbled into a rescue operation? She took a side step, to push him against the wall. To her surprise, he did not fight back. “What do you want with him?”

  “That’s for the Lady to decide.”

  The man’s blade faded back into the darkness. Now, only her Sheimlek lit up their faces, his hidden deep within a cowl that obscured his features. His shining eyes reflected her weapon’s glow. “Who are you?” she asked, not yet relinquishing her blade.

  “It doesn’t matter. All you need to know is we’re on the same side.”

  “Then why steal him away, like thieves in the night? Why not ask for him in the name of the Lady?”

  Sadness crossed his face for a split-second. “We did. Your wannabe leader refused. We didn’t know how many of you agree with him.”