Three of Swords
Page 25
“Do you hear that?” Kleo asked. Jak stopped, and the others followed suit.
“It might be running water,” Calla said hopefully. If so, it would be the first good news they had received in a while. Jak became aware of how desperately thirsty he was, and they all moved forward again with a greater spring in their strides.
They heard the stream’s steady current long before seeing it. The buildings were now behind them, and the high cavern walls closed in not far ahead.
The water could not have been more than a few inches deep, its banks about six feet apart. What once was a bridge had collapsed, and the stream wove between large, well-worn stones with musical trickling.
Riff was first to refresh himself, dipping one cupped hand into the cold water and lifting it to his mouth. The others followed his example, and smiles quickly spread from face to face. Jak marveled at how such a simple thing could bring cheer in the midst of tragedy.
“Look, a lizard,” Kluber exclaimed as he pointed.
Kleo jumped into his arms, and he laughed.
Jak frowned. Her abnormal fear for the scaly beasts was well known and frequently poked fun at, but though the mood had noticeably lightened, this was still no time for jokes. “There’s no lizard, Kleo,” he said disapprovingly.
“I wish there were,” Riff said. “We could catch and eat it. I’m starving.”
“We’ll worry about food once we get out.” The prospect of escaping this underworld was sustenance enough for Jak. He urged them forward, seeing how on the far side the trail continued in the opposite direction of the current.
Riff jumped from stone to stone as he crossed. Jak followed with lopes rather than leaps. “It’s not slippery,” he announced, reaching back to help Calla steady herself on the first block.
They stopped a minute later. The stream bubbled forth from a low tunnel in the side of the cavern where the trail abruptly ended. The current was deeper and slower here, but no more than a foot of clearance above meant that further progress would require crawling through the water. There was no passageway fit for travel. They would have to look elsewhere.
He would not allow his discouragement to show, however. “Let’s follow the side for a while,” he suggested. “Maybe we’ll come across a new tunnel.”
Movement off the trail was slower and more hazardous as they maneuvered around obstructing stalagmites and over uneven footing. The disappointment of the stream made the light-hearted conversation taper off to quiet sullenness. Jak almost wished Kluber would pull another prank on Kleo. Or, better yet, on him.
Riff was wandering farther and farther away. Now they saw him come back, looking dejected. “It’s getting too rough ahead. We need to go back to the city.”
Jak sighed. “All right. Don’t worry, there’s still a lot of cavern left to search. We’ll find a way.”
All the cheerful optimism—even Riff’s—was noticeably absent as they made their way back to the buildings. Soon another wide avenue led them toward familiar surroundings. Just ahead, the plaza and great unknown edifice waited in silent malignance.
“Well, Riff, I guess you’re going to get your wish, after all.”
“What’s that?”
“To explore the city.”
Riff smiled without cheer. “I’d rather have food.”
“Maybe we’ll find some,” Calla said.
Kluber snorted.
We’re going to need to, Jak thought. Along with a place to sleep. The notion of spending a night inside this vast, morbid mausoleum held no appeal at all, but none of them had slept in more than a full day, and his leg muscles were cramping from strain. He was certain the others felt the fatigue, too.
“What’s that ahead?” Kleo asked.
Jak squinted. There was definitely a shape in the twisting fog where the plaza formed a large open area between buildings. As they drew nearer, the shape crystallized into the outline of charred poles standing above a pile of wood. The setup was all too similar to the ritual pyres back home, where the acolyte of Tempus disposed of the dead. Which meant the hints of white just now becoming visible could be only one thing.
No one spoke as they approached the blackened remnants of wood and the thin skeleton half-covered in soot. The skull remained attached to the body, but sagged toward the cold stone floor. Jak was relieved the empty eye sockets did not stare back.
The crooked monolith loomed ominously on the far side of the plaza, a thin trail of cloud obscuring its peak. From this close proximity, Jak wondered how the entire unbalanced column remained upright. He also pondered what purpose it served. Was it a monument, the leftover remnant of some larger design, or simply a beacon of death?
Kleo coughed, then covered her mouth as if wishing she could arrest the sound.
No one else moved, and Jak’s senses became alert to the slightest disruption. He thought of the girls’ earlier reports of noises, and knew the others did, too.
Silence surrounded them, but for the gentle lapping of lake waters on shore, close yet invisible in the darkness. Not even the sound of their breathing was audible, and Jak wondered whether their exhausted hearts had all simultaneously ceased beating.
Then Kluber stepped closer, bent down, and rubbed his fingers through the pile of ashes beneath the skeleton. Then nodded. “Still warm,” he said softly.
A sickening chill ran through Jak’s body, the terrifying implication obvious to even his stupid mind.
“My back itches,” Kleo complained. Everyone ignored her.
“I guess we’re not alone, after all,” Riff said.
Author's Note
The hardest thing about being a new author is getting noticed by the world of readers. The Internet Age has made it possible for all kinds of aspiring writers to publish, which is a truly great thing. At the same time, writers have never had a harder time standing out from the crowd, nor faced tougher competition. A few authors rely on massive marketing campaigns or dubious shortcuts to game the system. Most of us simply put our heads down and keep writing, hoping that word of mouth will pass from reader to reader and slowly but steadily build our audience.
I invite you to be part of my team and help me make a mark on the literary world. If you enjoyed any of my books, recommend it to a friend or leave a review--or both. Be sure to check out my author page on Facebook or Amazon, and definitely visit my website where you can get a free color map to accompany the Empire Asunder series. I make sure the readers who join the email list are rewarded for their support by holding contests to award signed books, posters, tee shirts, and other interesting prizes.
I also like hearing from readers. Have a question or comment about a book? Let me know at michael@michaeljasonbrandt.com. I try to answer every email personally.
Thanks as always for your support.
Michael
About The Author
Michael Jason Brandt is a specialist in history and geopolitics. Born in Washington, DC, he has lived, worked, and studied in the US, England, and Spain. He received his first degree in business from (the highly underrated) Shippensburg University of Pennsylvania. After a decade in the corporate IT world, Michael returned to education and received degrees in International Relations from (the two best schools in the world, in his opinion) George Washington University and The London School of Economics and Political Science.
Now dedicated to research and writing, Michael is a co-founder of Casus Belli Books. He currently lives in Maryland.
His first novel, PLAGUED, WITH GUILT, is the story of five friends confronted by war, disease, and the end of humanity. The EMPIRE ASUNDER series is his second writing adventure and first sojourn into fantasy.
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Dedication
For Karleen
Other Books
By Michael Jason Brandt
The EMPIRE ASUNDER saga continues with BOOK 2: HEARTS of FIRE, now available for pre-order on Amazon.
Or, if you’re looking for a change of pace, why not check out his first novel?
PLAGUED, WITH GUILT
What if the world were coming to an end, and it was your fault?
Dr. Ben Appelstein and his archaeological team unwittingly unleash an ancient plague on the modern world, derailing their promising lives and threatening to destroy life as we know it. Against a backdrop of war and disease, four friends fight through transformative journies both personal and monumental: Rich, a brilliant gay athlete struggling for esteem; Wendy, a querulous coed caught between two men and an uncertain future; Halfus, a quiet hero with a tragic past; and Ernie, a fun-loving charmer with aspirations of grandeur. Bound together and pulled apart, they struggle to save all they hold dear from impending doom.
PWG is the critically-acclaimed, character-driven epic novel about the best and worst tendencies of humankind. Tackling the difficult themes of terrorism, abuse, and mental illness, and providing insight into history, science, politics, and psychology, the novel is a must-read for anyone interested in a deeper understanding of the complexities of today's world.
"At once a fierce academic thriller and a powerful meditation on humanity... A striking, powerful debut that heralds the start of a promising career."—Kirkus Reviews
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters and events portrayed in this novel are either fictional or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
EMPIRE ASUNDER BOOK 1: THREE OF SWORDS
Copyright © 2017 by Michael Jason Brandt
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 publisher.
ISBN 978-0-9964984-3-2
www.MichaelJasonBrandt.com
Cover & Map Design: nuvue creative and Autumn Birch
Lead Editor: LeeAnna Groves