Rise of the Forgotten Sun (The Sun and the Raven Book 1)

by Jon Monson

  “A single prick with this blade will give you a wound that will never heal,” Arathorm continued. “The cut will fester and grow until the contamination fills your entire body. The process can take months, years even. All the while, the pain will wash over you until you beg for death.”

  The man gulped, the sound audible in the still room. His eyes darted away from the wall towards a small table in the corner of the room. Arathorm smiled, knowing his tactic had worked.

  Moving away from the prisoner, Arathorm rushed to the table. He grabbed it with both hands and tossed it to the ground with a crash. The table cracked yet remained intact, its legs poking into the air.

  Arathorm grabbed the nearest leg and ripped it free. Wielding it like a club, he slammed the leg into the adobe wall, the wood shattering and splintering. His father pulled apart the broken wood to reveal a roll of paper.

  “My deepest thanks for your cooperation,” Arathorm growled as he pulled the roll of papers free. “Rest assured that the Great Lord is pleased with your service.”

  Arathorm – paper still in hand – nodded at his two brutes, who quickly filed out of the room. Their duty this evening had been fulfilled. Barrick hoped his had as well.

  “Make his death quick and relatively painless,” Arathorm said. Meet me in my office in one hour – the power you’ve kept from me will be put to proper use.”

  Arathorm turned away from his son and exited down the dark hallway and out of the dingy home.

  Barrick sighed as he strode over to the prisoner. He had no desire to end this man’s life.

  “Were those the architectural plans for the statue of Oosman the Great?” Barrick asked, bending down to look into the man’s eyes.

  The man responded with a slight nod. The stone face was gone, the steel in his glare replaced by a look of defeat. Yet there was no fear in those eyes, only shame.

  Barrick pulled the knife from his scabbard, the blood of the sentry still coating the steel. The liquid seemed black in the room’s dark interior. The sick feeling returned to his stomach.

  “Can you be out of the city within the hour?” Barrick asked, his voice lowered to a whisper. The man nodded.

  Barrick moved around the back of the chair and cut the chords binding him. The blood from his knife clung to the ropes.

  The man arose to his feet. He was taller than Barrick and solidly built. He’d likely spent his life herding sheep, hoping to raise a gaggle of children. This wasn’t his fight.

  “Why would you let me live?” the man asked, his voice deep and calm despite the carnage surrounding them.

  “There’s enough blood on my hands tonight,” Barrick said. “Now get out of here before anyone finds out what I’ve done.”

  The man only nodded as he left the room. His footsteps echoed in the silent chamber. Barrick fell to his knees and sobbed.

  Chapter 34

  Aydiin closed his eyes, filling his lungs with the dry evening air of Maradon. His hands felt cool on the metal railing as he stood on deck, swaying gently with the rolling motion of the ship. He felt at one with the vessel that had taken him across the sea.

  The city’s lights were beginning to ignite as the sun’s twilight faded. It was like watching a field of fireflies awaken – the city’s gas lamps twinkled in the low light. It was nowhere near as breathtaking as Palmas had been, but it was still beautiful.

  Much too close stood the statue of Oosman the Great. Fashioned out of copper, the green colossus dominated the city’s harbor, reminding Maradon’s inhabitants who ruled over them. Aydiin didn’t want to think about the Stone placed in the crown atop the statue, or the work required to take it.

  A soft breeze blew off the coast, bringing in a parade of smells for Aydiin to identify. So he closed his eyes, trying to forget the statue and just enjoy the moment. With the gentle swaying of the waves and the deliciously cool breeze, it proved to not be overly difficult.

  The sweet and tangy scent of roasting chicken and fish along the docks was the first to greet him. Then there was the earthy spice from the city’s bazaars. It was all mixed with the smell of humanity. It smelled like home.

  “You seem to be enjoying this moment,” Byanca’s voice sounded from behind, accompanied by her footsteps as his wife joined him in his vigil.

  “I hadn’t realized I missed it this much,” Aydiin shrugged, opening his eyes to look at the quickly approaching city. “My body has been aching for the dry air – I didn’t even realize it until this moment.”

  “It’s understandable – I already miss Palmas,” Byanca said.

  “We’ll make it back there,” Aydiin said, turning to look at his wife.

  She wore a green silk dress – her favorite color and material. Only this garment was in the Salatian style with a high neck and long, flowing sleeves with intricate silver embroidery. It was meant to help her blend into the city – Aydiin knew that would never work.

  She wore a matching headscarf, which covered that wondrous hair of hers. He hated to see those locks hidden, but that bright red would attract attention. Tonight was not for being seen or remembered.

  “Our return trip to Palmas is far from my mind tonight,” she said, turning to look into his eyes. “Aydiin, I don’t like our plan.”

  “Neither do I,” Aydiin sighed. “It’s reckless and foolhardy. I just don’t know what else to do.”

  “We could just not get off the ship,” Byanca said. “We could just go back to our quarters and let the Adelaide take us all over the world.”

  “I think running isn’t a luxury we can afford,” Aydiin shook his head. “You were there with me at Mount Pietra. You know what we’re up against. Unless I get more of the Great Stones, we’ll never be able to defeat the Order.”

  “Well, maybe we could start with a Stone that isn’t atop the world’s tallest statue,” Byanca smiled. “By the time we climb back down all those stairs, every policeman and soldier in the entire city will be waiting for us.”

  “But I’ll be the most powerful Fire-dancer in the world,” Aydiin smiled. “We can make a run for it.”

  “Are you sure I can’t convince you to at least go to the palace first?” Byanca asked for what Aydiin felt positive to be the hundredth time. “I’m sure your brother and sister could help.”

  Aydiin didn’t respond. Instead, he turned away and focused his attention back towards the approaching city. He didn’t know what else to do. This voyage had been the best of his life, only overshadowed by the approaching task of stealing the Stone of Surion.

  The crew of the Adelaide had been so impressed by their seemingly impossible boarding that they had given the young couple a private room. Anyone who could escape a rioting city in such a fashion deserved to be well-treated, had been the argument. Both Aydiin and Byanca had made many friends among the crew. Their company, mixed with plenty of alone time together, had made for a very pleasant time.

  Yet now it was over. They were practically to the docks. What had felt like more than enough time to come up with a decent plan had evaporated into thin air. Now, he had no idea how to move forward.

  “Aydiin, you can’t really expect to just charge up the statue and take the Stone,” Byanca prodded. “I’m having a hard time believing you can’t think of anything else.”

  “This is the national treasure of Salatia,” Aydiin responded, still looking at the city. “It sits atop the world’s highest statue. There’s only one way in and one way out. I can’t think of anything else beyond using the stairs.”

  Byanca opened her mouth to respond, but closed it at the sound of approaching footsteps.

  “Prince Aydiin,” one of the crew called out. “I’m glad to have found you. What should we do with your kerton?”

  “Take him to the palace, please,” Aydiin sighed.

  The words filled his heart with sorrow. Yet tonight, Askari would draw undue attention. It was best for him to return to the palace, where Gamila would be able to take care of him. Those two had always had a speci
al relationship.

  “Yes sir,” the man replied, the blood draining from his face.

  The crewman was Albonan, just like the majority of the ship’s crew. His pale complexion and light hair seemed particularly wan at the thought of taking Askari anywhere, let alone the palace. Aydiin truly felt sorry for the man.

  “This is for your troubles,” Byanca said, obviously also seeing the man’s distress. She pulled out a few bank notes and handed them to the man, whose countenance grew visibly brighter at the sight.

  “Thank you, Madame Byanca,” the man said before turning away towards the stables where Askari had been sleeping peacefully.

  “Well that’s one problem solved,” Byanca said. “Isn’t Gamila going to know you’re here when Askari turns up in the palace stables?”

  “We’ll be long gone by that time,” Aydiin said. “It will be morning before that man even has time to think about taking Askari to the palace. We’ll be on another ship, accompanied by the Stone of Surion.”

  The ship’s horn sounded, a low rumble that emanated throughout his chest. The sound announced the ship’s entrance into the harbor, which on such a night was needed in the darkness. It felt strange to have such a strong sign that he was now home.

  His eyes again turned to the statue of Oosman the Great as the ship grew close. It was the tallest structure in the city by a multiple of ten or twenty. The image of his great grandfather, proud and strong, dominated the harbor.

  “Okay, we can take a few days to plan something better,” Aydiin sighed. “With everything that’s happened in Palmas, maybe my father won’t punish me for returning.”

  “Could he really punish you for that?” Byanca asked. “This wasn’t an exile – you were sent to get married. Now you’re bringing your bride to meet the family. What could be wrong with that?”

  “Jabari will be upset, to say the least,” Aydiin chuckled. “I’ve never seen a sixteen year old with such ambition. The very thought of having me around probably fills him with angst.”

  “He’s a teenage boy,” Byanca laughed. “Everything fills him with angst. Maybe he just needs a girlfriend.”

  “I can’t think of any girl I hate badly enough to set up with that boy,” Aydiin laughed back, thinking of his younger brother actually having romantic feelings. The thought almost seemed absurd with the boy’s focus and lust for power.

  “So we can take a few days?” Byanca prodded. “That Stone will still be there next week. Maybe we can get up there on official business. All you would have to do is touch it, and nobody could stop you.”

  “I still somehow doubt that would go over well,” Aydiin said. “That Stone is one of the last things keeping my father in power. Even with it, there’s talk of rebellion among the inner tribes. They’re sick of being mistreated and excluded.”

  “But it would show everyone that you’re practically a Divine,” Byanca said. “You’d be untouchable.”

  “Religion is only important to my father as a tool to keep the masses in line,” Aydiin shook his head. “If a Divine were to suddenly appear, he would only welcome it if that same Divine also told the people to obey their Sultan.”

  “Well, we’ll figure something out,” Byanca said. “We probably need just a few days to clear our thoughts. It will help being able to look at our objective.”

  Aydiin nodded as the Adelaide shuddered to a stop against the docks. Workers below rushed to tie the ship’s cables to the pier, preventing it from floating away. The men worked with speed and efficiency.

  The deck came alive in the darkness that now engulfed the ship. Twilight was fading quickly, and the only light came from gas street lamps below. The light mixed with lanterns held by the crew, the orange light doing little to make the men’s work easier.

  As the gangplank was lowered to the docks below, Aydiin joined the small crowd of Genodran refugees. Men and women who had obviously seen better days were now looking to make a new life in Salatia, a country they had probably mocked only weeks ago for being behind the times. Yet now they were here, and Aydiin hoped they hadn’t jumped from the frying pan and into the fire.

  Still, there was some relief in the eyes of those descending. Maradon was at least not in the grips of riots and civil war. They weren’t about to face a long, wet winter without any food. These people were lucky to be alive and safe.

  “Well, let’s go find your family,” Byanca said, grabbing Aydiin by the hand.

  His heart leapt at the feeling of his hand in hers. That skin was remarkably soft and warm, and in the cool of the evening, it felt wonderful. He squeezed back and let her lead him through the crowd.

  “I honestly didn’t think I’d be setting foot back in Maradon this soon,” Aydiin said as his foot hit the dock. “When I left here to marry you, I thought it would be years before I saw this place again.”

  “Well, life is full of surprises,” Byanca said. “When I arranged a marriage to a Salatian prince, I never dreamed that I’d be marrying a Divine.”

  “Be careful what you say,” Aydiin said, looking around. “I know what you mean, but something like that could be misheard.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Byanca said, blushing slightly. “But you know what I mean. Life is too hard to plan.”

  Aydiin nodded as a somewhat large wave splashed against the dock and sent a mist into the air. The salty sea water felt soothing on his skin, and he breathed in the fresh air. Then something occurred to him.

  He looked up at the statue, three hundred spans tall and only a short walk away. Then his eyes turned back to the water. The cogs in his brain continued to spin wildly.

  “Follow me,” Aydiin whispered, gripping Byanca’s hand a little firmer. His legs took them away from the Adelaide, away from the crowd. It took them towards the statue.

  “What are we doing?” Byanca hissed. “This doesn’t exactly make us look forgettable.”

  “Oh, they’ll just think we’re two lovers wanting to kiss at the base of the statue or some such nonsense,” Aydiin said, unable to keep the smile out of his voice.

  They reached the base of the statue, Oosman’s green toe standing taller than Aydiin. The climb to the top using the official stairway would take almost an hour.

  “Water is a powerful thing,” Aydiin said, turning to the harbor less than ten spans from the base. “And I have almost supreme control over it.”

  “You really have little idea what you can do,” Byanca said. “You certainly can’t take on an entire army with it.”

  “You’re right,” Aydiin said, focusing on the waves. “But I don’t need to.”

  He closed his eyes, feeling for the water. It felt alive, ready and eager to obey. It knew him, or at least knew the powers that were within him.

  Yet this much water was difficult, unwieldy. Just when he was able to connect with it, a wave would bring in fresh water that didn’t know him. It was strange, a sensation he could barely comprehend, let alone explain.

  He increased his focus, concentrating on the entire harbor as a whole. The more he focused, the more he could tell the waves wanted to do his will. His confidence grew, as did his smile.

  Aydiin brought his hands up like a maestro conducting a symphony. A wave crashed against the harbor wall, sending a spray of mist at the couple. Briny water soared into the air, filling the cool night with moisture.

  To his side, Byanca gasped and put a hand on his shoulder. There was excitement in that grip. Yet it was also mixed with fear and confusion.

  Aydiin’s smile grew as he gathered the waves, gathered the water within the harbor. It was his to command. He knew it as much as the water did.

  He stepped closer to the harbor to see the waters begin to swirl. Shouts sounded from the docks as the boats were pulled by the currents, their ropes acting as the only restraint. Aydiin kept his arms moving, orchestrating the waters.

  A whirlpool began to form, the churning liquid acting as one. It grew in strength and majesty. Aydiin began to sweat from the effort.
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  From the center of the whirlpool, a column of water arose. Like a snake rising from a basket, the water seemed to wobble as if unsure of itself. Aydiin increased his focus on the column and the water grew more stable as it grew taller.

  “Hang on,” Aydiin whispered, and Byanca latched her hand around his arm.

  He kept his focus on the column of water as it grew taller, grew stronger. He brought it towards the edge, towards dry land. As if signaling the crescendo, Aydiin threw his arms into the air.

  The water column hurtled towards Aydiin and Byanca, grabbing the couple in its watery grip. He felt himself being lifted from the ground. His stomach did flips as the water hurtled through the air.

  Aydiin’s vision began to constrict with the force. They were moving much too quickly. He focused on the water, forcing it to slow down.

  The column obeyed as they reached the statue’s crown. He focused on the balcony that granted access to the Stone, forcing the water to redirect its path. It did so with an alacrity that surprised even Aydiin.

  Like a serpent vomiting the contents of its stomach, the water column dropped them on the balcony. The column collapsed, the briny solution sliding down the incline and covering the statue in sea water. Aydiin felt confident the scene looked more than strange to those below.

  Drenched, Aydiin propped himself on to his hands and knees, coughing and sputtering. A stomach filled with water ejected its contents, and Aydiin let his stomach heave. Coughing, he rose to his feet.

  “Never. Do. That. Again,” Byanca sputtered at his side, each word coming out between coughs.

  She was also completely soaked, hair draping in front of her eyes. Her dress hung awkwardly on her body, askew from their less-than-gentle journey. Aydiin had to keep himself from laughing.

  “Maybe it wasn’t the best time to experiment,” Aydiin said. “But now we’re here, and now we can get the Stone before anyone has time to react.”

  “I may never trust you again,” she said, rising to her feet.

  “You drove an automobile off a pier to get onto a ship,” Aydiin panted, looking over the balcony’s edge to the harbor below. “I think we’re even.”