The reaper turned on her, his face shimmering and warping with stolen power, bristling with bones and claws that stitched a graveyard over his pale skin. “Such a treat that comes rushing to be redeemed.” The reaper’s hot hand came upon her cheek. She recoiled, but he grabbed her jaw, forcing her to face him while the battle raged. “Your eyes are familiar … those lips, just so.”
He leaned in, pulling a callous kiss that hurled barbs to the pit of her stomach. Minni spat in his face, furious tears brimming over. “Coward! Free me and die like the dog you are.”
An elongated tongue probed the spittle on his face. “Mmm, yes. Just so. My sweet little Miss Ajharra. You’ve grown sweeter. Sweeter even than your delicious mother.”
Minni spat at him again. It was all she could do.
The reaper wiped his leering face while arrows flamed out harmlessly around them. “Do you not recognise me? I brought you candies.”
She didn’t. Why would she want any of their faces as keepsakes? They’d weigh her to the bottom of the Salroc Sea. Minni wanted to goad the reaper, but knew once her life was taken, such a man would go on for Amber. She had to stall him long enough for the girl to get to safety. “You all brought sweets,” she said, in mock interest. “Which ones did you bring?”
The man’s eyes lit up with the change in his captive’s attitude. “The triple stripe drops. They were your favourite.”
Behind the reaper a grand boulder of treasure rolled toward them, gathering speed and layering a fortune upon itself. Amber ran behind it, her hands outstretched, controlling the monolithic orb. Minni averted her gaze to the left, not wanting to give away the twisted perversion’s approaching doom, but there came Tikis and a band of drakkin, carving their way through the enemy to her aid. The reaper noted a change in her expression and followed her stare to the warriors.
A smile ossified around the bones penetrating his cheeks and he swelled with magical power, drawing it up from the dead and dying. “I’ll keep you safe, Little Miss. I’ll take you home to Jando.” The surface of the hoard underfoot quivered in anticipation, spreading outwards with anxious fervour, snagging the essence of combatants and sapping their strength, dropping them to their knees. The reaper was intoxicated with the power, arms wide, delirious appetite demanding ever more. The treasure channelled his desire, arcing pulses of energy into his swelling, radiant body from a battlefield of sacrifice. “Such power! I see the Lord’s throne anew!” The reaper pointed to the sky with a maniacal laugh and bolts of lightning struck down, jolting around his body and setting the bone piercings aflame.
The drakkin unit hesitated, but Tikis muscled forth. The reaper levelled his charred finger at Tikis and cast a blistering crackle of energy. The drakkin warrior dove to the side and rolled as the spell sizzled past him, electrifying a chain of combatants before dissipating.
Amber’s rolling mass of treasure sped toward Minni and the reaper. The young elementalist no longer ran, but skimmed across the hoard on a cushion of air. Tikis kept on barrelling forward, pumping his legs like a bull. The reaper raised his finger and sneered. The drakkin would not dodge another bolt at such close range.
The rolling ball of treasure loomed into the reaper’s line of sight, rousing a moment’s confusion. He loosed the next bolt of energy at the ball and treasure exploded where it hit, but the ball swallowed the magical force and kept coming. The distraction was all Tikis needed to close the gap and leap through the air. The reaper turned to attack the drakkin too late. Tikis ploughed into Minni, bending the bonds of gold and silver as he tackled her to the ground, swamping her beneath his huge frame.
With a sickening crush, the ball consumed the reaper. His hands poured forth energy to slow it, to repel it, but Amber’s creation absorbed the magic like a sponge and rolled on, mashing the Jandan to death with no regard to slow its journey to the water. There it steamed and churned the sea before collapsing upon itself.
Minni squirmed under the drakkin. “All right, you’ve had your fun. Off!”
Huffing like a pair of bellows, Tikis got up and inspected his tail, his lips retracted, baring razor teeth in pain. The tip was crushed in a kink. “A happy memory,” he shucked a tight breath and helped Minni up.
Amber ran to them and embraced Minni in the biggest bear hug her scrawny arms could manage. The battle in the channels was all but over with only a few pockets of fighting to the south. The rebels had the enemy boxed up and when the Jandan horns of retreat blew across the sea, they knew they had won the day. A roar of voices shook the sky and the remaining Jandans yielded.
It was no victory Minni could celebrate. She busied herself along the shoreline, looking for any sign of Elrin. The horizon was a ragged stage with jagged masts and tattered sails. Ships listed and flotsam swayed with cold bodies in the sea’s slow dance. Waves lapped the shore in a gentle rhythm while gulls gorged on war’s fortune, singing their joy with sharp clarion calls. All Minni found was the silent knowing of the dead and the jubilant victory of the living.
Neither gave her comfort.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The Plan
Minni hated the prophecies.
They always bloomed. Their truth was at once abstract and precise. Unbelievable and unfathomable when told, confusing and contradictory as events came to pass, and for her, their fruit was ever more bitter than sweet.
For the others, things were not so bad. The dragon they called Wyggen had left Hurn atop the Caldera wall before flying to his doom. Obst had done the same before battling the muscle bound red savage, saving Jaspa from a lung full of water. They had watched the whole battle from the safest seats in the theatre. She had put her life on the line in the final battle and recklessly endangered Amber and Tikis with her impulsive charge. Even then, they all survived.
All but Elrin.
He had fallen in her hand; a gift of fate, the key to their victory, the key to the choir. He had trusted her as she led him to his death. He would never find his father, because she had let him fall. He had fallen into the rebellion, into her heart, and into the sea.
For all the ships and all the eyes on the water, no one had found his body. She had looked in the dead eyes of hundreds of bodies on the beach, even sailed out in a skiff with Delik, searching the channels and the open water in case he had drifted.
Nothing.
She begged Qarim to help by searching from the sky, but the great gold dragon would not budge from his love’s side. Tetula was dead. Minni had been overcome with the mourning dragon’s pain. Tears had poured down her cheeks and fallen on the beach of gold and silver. She should never have left Elrin’s side.
Obst was no help. She claimed the sea did not speak his name. Minni had laughed at that; the gods enjoyed such heartless irony. Delik told her not to blame herself. Jaspa told her she would feel better in time. Time would heal. They both knew the pain of love lost and while their words may have been true, Kobb was the only one who gave her true comfort. He told her time might dry the tears and time might scar the wound, but the hurt would forever remain beneath the surface. She would never heal.
Kobb had proved more than fair to his word after the battle was won. He could have turned on the rebels, slaved them off or marched them into the sea. After all, he had the numbers and the means. Instead, he and Jaspa divided between them an equal share of prize ships and cargo then opened up their ranks for any man or woman who wished a new life at sea or on land. Kobb released every former slave and Jandan prisoner, and offered them the same.
Minni considered crewing with Kobb aboard Bone Dancer. She would have a better chance of forgetting Elrin at sea, but there were too many counting on her and too many other debts to pay. So Minni found herself on Juniper with her companions, leaving the Hoard Islands and her heart behind.
The rag tag convoy of ships limped through the Salroc Sea heading for the coast and safe harbour. Jaspa called his generals into the captain’s quarters. There was much to arrange. They had taken charge of many hungry
bellies and the season was almost upon them. Obst warned it would be dire with the Choir broken.
Jaspa popped the top off a large cylinder and removed a scroll, spreading it across the table. A Jandan map depicted the coast with precise red and black ink.
“Right then,” said Delik, tapping his finger on the city of Calimska. “Here’s the plan ...”
Minni shrunk away, holding in the swelling sob that rose in her throat. Her weakness made her angry. She walked to the dresser, where Elrin had changed into the Jandan officer’s uniform. He had been so shy; she had laughed, turning away while he got changed. The awkward Calimskan had taken so long she had peeked just to satisfy her curiosity. He was so out of place, a handsome shiner blushing in the blue. She’d helped him with his hat, tucking in the restless raven hair to hide his obvious heritage. He had smelled of sandalwood and cloves.
Opening the drawer, Minni found Elrin’s satchel and inside, folded in a neat square, was his vest. She lifted it to her face and inhaled. A note dropped out, falling on the dresser. It was wrapped in string with a black wax seal, devoid of any initial or insignia. Desperate for answers, she broke the wax and read.
Herik,
The shankakin do not fare well. The increased schedule you have set is taking an awful toll. The workers delivered last moon started strong and healthy. Now they are half in number and half again are already afflicted by the lung blight. The shankakin take worse to it than the others. They are not suitable for work underground.
Have you considered the measures I outlined in our last meeting? Improving the conditions of work has the twin benefits of improved production and decreasing input costs.
Surely this is a good thing for all concerned.
Yours,
Kleith
Minni read it over again, finding it hard to believe what Elrin had carried all along. This was the note the prophecy spoke of, not the dead letter. It held the truth of what was going on between the City of Gold and the City of Bones. She was sure of it. What were the Calimskan’s doing with shankakin underground? Mining? Why not employ dwarves to do it? Calimska had the wealth to pay them and they would do a better job than any shankakin. Surely that was a better arrangement than trading with their rival, Jando.
The message was from Kleith. This had to be the same Herder Kleith that Elrin had spoken of, but he was Elrin’s mentor who had dressed the fleeing Calimskan as a collector and sent him to find the Dragon Choir. Kleith had known about the Choir and thought they would help. Why would he be involved with this awful business, drafting Elrin to ferry the clandestine messages? And who was Herik? The Guildmaster? Why would the great Golden Shield be using shankakin slaves? What had any of this to do with Elrin’s father? Was all of this for black powder? It made no sense.
With slow strides, Minni returned to the table, watching her companions argue about the politics of Calimskan guild hierarchy. Seeing her return, they quietened, pity diluting their passionate discussion. Where once they looked upon her with respect, now flaccid condolence overshadowed every conversation. No one dared say Elrin was dead, but every expression was a silent eulogy. This had to end.
She read the secret missive aloud, translating every neatly written word with a cold coherence that froze her grief. Once finished, she slapped Elrin’s note onto the map, knocking the markers they had placed around Calimska.
“When I find this, Herik, I’m going to see him stripped to ash.”
The adventure continues in . . .
Blood Monsoon
Gold to the grave, for the season has come.
Buckle your bandoliers and bracers;
Prepare for the Blood Monsoon.
Available 2015-16
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Table of Contents
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
Dragon Choir Page 29