Dawn of Days: Age Of Magic - A Kurtherian Gambit Series (A New Dawn Book 4)

by Amy Hopkins

  CONTENTS

  LMBPN Publishing

  Dedication

  Legal

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter Thirty

  Author Notes - Amy Hopkins

  Author Notes - Michael Anderle

  Social Links

  Books by Amy Hopkins

  Books by Michael Anderle

  DAWN OF DAYS

  A New Dawn Book 4

  By Amy Hopkins and Michael Anderle

  A part of

  The Kurtherian Gambit Universe

  Written and Created

  by Michael Anderle

  DEDICATION

  To everyone, ever, who has had to work

  on their birthday.

  — Amy

  To Family, Friends and

  Those Who Love

  To Read.

  May We All Enjoy Grace

  To Live The Life We Are

  Called.

  —Michael

  Dawn of Days Team

  JIT Beta Readers

  Kelly O’Donnell

  James Caplan

  Joshua Ahles

  Paul Westman

  Micky Cocker

  John Ashmore

  Sarah Weir

  Larry Omans

  Kimberly Boyer

  If we missed anyone, please let us know!

  Editor

  Candy Crum

  DAWN OF DAYS (this book) is a work of fiction.

  All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.

  This book Copyright © 2017 Amy Hopkins, Michael T. Anderle, CM Raymond, LE Barbant

  Cover by Andrew Dobell, www.creativeedgestudios.co.uk

  Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing

  LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact info@kurtherianbooks.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  LMBPN Publishing

  PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy

  Las Vegas, NV 89109

  First US edition, December 2017

  The Kurtherian Gambit (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds) are copyright © 2017 by Michael T. Anderle.

  PROLOGUE

  Donna stared into the fading pinpricks of red as they dwindled and winked out. Blood dripped down her arm, sliding from the knife to her elbow and dripping into the dirt below.

  She wiped the blood from the blade and slipped it into its sheath before throwing the remnant back into a lifeless heap. A smile touched her lips.

  “I did warn you, dear,” she said.

  Her eyes turned down, and a frown marred her face as she noticed the mess. Casually, she reached up and ripped her dress, splitting the shoulder seam and yanking her sleeve off. She balled it up and wiped her arm before tossing it on the body in front of her.

  Donna turned away. The morning sun cast a long shadow in front of her, and she watched it as her eyes took on a glow of their own, turning white as a flawless pearl.

  A mumbled word escaped her lips as her shadow changed. It stretched taller, thinning to give her the figure of a lithe young woman. Then, it widened, her neck disappearing in folds of cloth.

  Finally, a long staff sprouted from her hand.

  Her small smile turned into a grin—not on her own face, but the false image she wore. Donna looked down and brushed off her new white robes.

  The ashen staff she carried had the weight and balance of a real one, and the blue of her dress matched her memory of the one she had seen on the Mystic Master.

  “Finally,” Donna said, looking about. “It’s time for the Master to return to her Temple.” A throaty laugh bounced through the forest. “They won’t know what hit them.”

  CHAPTER ONE

  A remnant charged at Marcus, and he aimed his rifle, pulling the trigger.

  Click.

  “Dammit!” he yelled. The close-growing trees in that part of the Madlands suddenly seemed to loom overhead, despite the dappled sunlight shining through the patchy winter foliage.

  Marcus tried the weapon again, then slapped it hard. A third pull still yielded no blast from the weapon. The remnant before him laughed and crouched low, ready to attack.

  Julianne swung her staff, feeling it vibrate as it thunked against the remnant’s skull. The brittle bone exploded, showering blood all over her clothes.

  Marcus twisted the rifle behind his back, fumbling to attach it to his belt.

  “Leave it,” Julianne said. “Unless you’re so soft you’ve forgotten how to fight without it?”

  “Soft?” Marcus called. He slid his sword out with a zing and took the hand off a nearby attacker, then spun to meet a second. That one dropped dead to the ground a moment later. “I’m not soft!”

  “Duck!” Julianne called as the one-handed remnant stuck its head up behind Marcus. “Bad move, buddy,” she said to the remnant as Marcus threw himself down to avoid her next strike.

  Staff met face, and teeth sprayed across the ground. The remnant howled in pain.

  “I ge’ yoo, bith!” it screamed.

  “Sorry?” Marcus said, a hand cupped behind his ear. “What was that? I can’t understand you… no teeth, and all.” He slashed upwards, piercing the remnant’s belly and spilling long, slippery strands of intestine all over the ground.

  The dead remnant crumpled, falling back as Marcus pushed it away from him with the toe of his boot.

  Artemis lurched up from his huddled position to lean over and vomit. He emptied his stomach, and sat back down.

  Marcus cocked an eye at him, then shrugged. “Yeah. It does smell pretty bad, doesn’t it?”

  Just the very mention of it made Artemis retch again.

  “Marcus!” Julianne chided, shaking her head. She passed Artemis her water, wincing when he looked at the glob of flesh stuck to the side and leaned over again. “Oops. Sorry. Maybe we should head back to the river we passed earlier.”

  Artemis pulled himself to his feet and lurched off back along the path without a word. Grabbing the reins two of the horses, Marcus followed.

  Julianne eyed Cloud Dancer. The horse stared back as if daring her to try and mount while still covered in blood and innards. “Fine,” Julianne said. “We�
�ll walk.”

  “You know,” Marcus said, tying the horses to a tree and pulling off his shirt. “There are less messy weapons you could use.”

  “What, and give up my staff?” Julianne said, dipping the white stick into the water and letting the gentle waves wash the stains away. She made sure to stay downstream from Artemis as he splashed water on his pale face.

  Marcus shrugged. “It’s your staff or your pretty blue pants.”

  Julianne snorted. “My pants are fine, nothing a good soak and a scrub won't fix.”

  She looked down, wondering if it was worth trying to clean them now. Blood, both fresh and old, had saturated the fabric. They were already becoming stiff—it would take hours to clean them out properly. She settled for wiping the worst of the mess off her boots with a clump of grass.

  “There must be a spell for that,” Artemis mumbled. “It would fall under the physical realm, of course… but if they had a way to target the organic material, and lift it…”

  Marcus shook his head as Artemis continued to ramble about the theoretical application of a magic he couldn’t cast. “Why is he with us, again?”

  “I need him,” Julianne said, patiently. “For a time, at least. If we don’t transcribe what he’s learned, it might be lost forever. And he’s learned a lot.”

  “You mean, he hasn’t written it all down already?” Marcus griped. He motioned at Artemis’s horse, loaded with leather bags that were stuffed not with clothes or personal terms, but piles and piles of parchment.

  “You’re not taking my work,” Artemis snapped, suddenly coming back to the conversation. “You’ll get those grubby fingerprints all over it!”

  Julianne sighed. “He won’t let us touch it without him there. So, we’re not only stuck with him, I’ll have to fund an escort to get him back when Bastian has the school up and running.”

  “Rude,” Artemis muttered, talking into the stream. “Talking about me like I’m not here.”

  “Artemis, I spent half the damn trip trying to make conversation with you,” Julianne pointed out. “You didn’t respond to a thing I said.”

  “Oh?” Artemis said. He grinned. “My meditation skills finally exceed your chatter!”

  Julianne rolled her eyes as she climbed onto Cloud Dancer’s back. “I know you love us, Artemis. That grumpy old man persona is all an act.”

  He snorted, then awkwardly mounted his horse. With Marcus leading, they set off through the Madlands.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Marcus sat with his rifle across his lap, fiddling with it.

  “I thought you were going to ask Jakob to charge it before we left,” she chided.

  “I did!” Marcus protested. “And I tested it, too, so I know I put it back in properly.”

  “Maybe he did something to drain it by mistake,” Julianne mused.

  “There’s nothing to drain,” Marcus said, frowning. He held up the weapon, showing her the empty slot where the stone would normally sit. “The amphorald must have fallen out.”

  Julianne pressed her lips together. “Marcus, it can’t just fall out.”

  He shrugged. “Well, it’s not there now. And before you say, ‘I told you so’, I know using it as a club wasn’t the best idea, but every now and then it was needed.”

  Julianne arched an eyebrow.

  “Ok, maybe it wasn’t needed that often. Still, I’ve got my sword.” He grinned, patting the weapon at his side.

  “Sure, until you slap a remnant skull with it sideways and bend it out of shape,” Julianne pointed out.

  “Oh, come on. I only did that once!” he protested.

  “I rest my case.”

  They rode on, enjoying the morning sun that warmed their skin, even as a cool breeze trailed past, raising goosebumps on Julianne’s arms.

  “It’s going to be an early winter,” she said.

  Marcus nodded in agreement. “Bastian better hurry up and get his school running, if he wants you back for the opening. The roads will be impassable once the heavy snows start.”

  Julianne laughed. “Do you have any idea how much he has to do first? I’ll be lucky if he needs me back by next winter!”

  Marcus shrugged. “Throw up a few walls and a roof, right? It’s not that hard.”

  “He’ll need to build the schoolrooms and accommodation for the students that don’t live close by. He’ll also need kitchens and a dining hall to feed them. He’ll need to find teachers, draw up contracts, provide accounting to the Temple and Lord George to show how our investment is being spent.” Julianne spread her hands. “It’s hard work.”

  “Ok!” Marcus said, waving her down. “I get the picture. Lots of boring paperwork, and then throw up a few walls.” He winked.

  “You men,” Julianne replied. “Always—” she stopped when Marcus jerked up a hand and motioned for her to be silent.

  Julianne gently tugged the reins, pulling Cloud to a halt. Behind her, Artemis’s horse stopped, too, though more likely because it had taken cues from the other two. The old man could sit a horse alright, but paid far too little attention to guide it far.

  “I smell smoke,” Marcus whispered. “Jules, are there people ahead?”

  Julianne’s eyes turned white as she reached out with her mind. She shook her head. “No people, but I can sense remnant, I think.”

  Remnant minds were hard to feel, noticeable only because of the low buzz Julianne felt instead of the familiarity of a human mind. She tried to narrow down their location and numbers, but the odd sensation was too indistinct.

  “They're probably setting up camp,” Marcus commented. “We should be, too, but I don’t think it’s a good idea if there’s a horde of them this close.”

  “I agree.” Cloud took a few nervous steps, and Julianne leaned down to pat her neck. “So, let’s go clean them out.”

  “I had to fall for a girl with a death wish,” Marcus muttered with a heavy sigh. “Fine. Shall we go now, while we’ve got the element of surprise? I don’t want to give these bastards a chance to organize.”

  Julianne wheeled Cloud around and slapped her flank.

  “I guess that’s a yes,” Marcus said to Artemis. “You wait here. Back soon.” He kicked his horse into a gallop and followed Julianne into the remnant camp.

  Artemis watched them go, shaking his head. “And people say I’m the crazy one.”

  Julianne plunged through the bushes and emerged in a circle of remnant. Cloud Dancer reared back, kicking one in the face and pummeling it to the ground as Julianne reached down and smashed another in the side of the head.

  Marcus flew through, using his momentum to make a clean swipe at a remnant. Its head jerked to the side, now only attached to its neck by nothing more than some sinewy tendons on its back.

  “Three more!” Julianne called, pulling the horse around for another run.

  The first kills had happened so fast, the other remnant hadn’t had time to react. Now, however, they stood, baring teeth and grabbing nearby rocks to use as weapons. Marcus steadied his horse and gripped his sword tighter.

  One drew a rusty spear, raising it at Marcus. He didn’t see the big horse behind him plunge forwards. Cloud Dancer smashed the remnant to the ground and stomped on its head, crushing the skull with a wet splat.

  Marcus had slid off his horse already, and Julianne joined him on the ground, aiming for the ribs of a remnant that reached for Marcus’s face.

  It was a good strike. Julianne felt the crunch of broken bones and the squelch of damaged flesh. Still, the remnant whirled around to face her, mouth open to show corroded teeth behind scabbed lips.

  “You ruined my dinner, fucking whore!” it spat, seemingly unaware of the jagged bone sticking out of its chest, or the blood pouring from the hole.

  When it stepped forwards, it winced as it looked down. Seeing the wound only enraged it more. Julianne swung her staff, missing as the remnant ducked at the last minute.

  Without waiting, she spun, using the movement of her weapon
to propel her around on one foot as the other raised in a kick. Her boot struck the remnant in the chest, pushing it back into the dirt.

  “Last words?” she asked, her boot pinning the remnant to the ground.

  “Fuck you,” came the gasping reply.

  Julianne took one hard, well-aimed swing, and the last remnant was dead. “You, too,” she said cheerily, leaning on her staff.

  “Could you at least try to look a little less smug, please?” Marcus asked. “Because if this keeps up, you’re going to end up a better fighter than me, and I don’t like that.”

  “Challenging your manhood?” Julianne asked. She sauntered up to him and leaned in close, pouting her lips.

  “That would be totally sexy any other day, but you’re covered in gore. Again.” Marcus stepped back, flicking off a tooth that had somehow landed on his shoulder. “Come on. I’m dying for a hot bath and some clean clothes.”

  They mounted their horses after Julianne gave Cloud Dancer a stern talking to for trying to shuffle away when she reached for the saddle. “Listen,” she said, pulling the mare’s head around. “I know it’s gross, but the sooner you get me home, the sooner you get a good wash and lots of treats. Ok?”

  Pulling herself up, Julianne ignored the horse’s disgusted shudder. “I swear, Mathias has been talking to you and putting ideas in your head, horse. Go on, git!” She nudged with her knees, and they slowly walked back to the spot where they had left Artemis.

  Marcus looked around, frowning. Artemis’s old horse was tied to a limp branch, but the old man was nowhere to be seen.

  “It’s like herding cats,” Marcus said as he dismounted.

  A trail of broken branches and flattened grass soon led to Artemis. He leaned on the ruins of a building, sifting through a pile of rubbish. Above him, a spread of crumbling plaster fell from the wall, scattering in the wind.

  The building was old—beyond old. Too-smooth walls eroded into cracked rubble, showing it was likely built even before the Madness.