Ragged Heroes: An Epic Fantasy Collection

by Andy Peloquin

  Caderyn rose, stretching his fatigued right arm. His canines went back to their normal pearly white length. His red eyes transitioned back to their chocolate brown.

  “You should get going to New Hope with the child.” Caderyn leaned down to pick up a torn piece of cloth he used to wipe his hands, arms, and face from the blood of his enemies. “I don’t know if the Fallen Nephilim was telling the truth or not when he said more were coming, but you shouldn’t take the chance.”

  “Me?” Susan looked over her shoulder, then did a complete three hundred and sixty degree turn. “I didn’t volunteer to take the child to New Hope. That was all you, Animal Man, or Elite, or whatever it is you want to call yourself. I just picked up the kid so she wouldn’t get trampled during the fight. She’s all yours now.”

  You’re really going to go through with this, aren’t you? Caderyn sighed deeply. You’ve come this far. Why did he have to use one of the oldest codes of honor in the book? Wolf’s Law will be the death of me yet.

  “All right.” Caderyn leaned down, searching the bodies once more. “I’ll go with you as far as New Hope. We deliver the child, and then we’re done.”

  “I don’t think so, Beast Man,” Susan said, shaking her head furiously. Her dark brown hair bounced wildly. “This mission is your own. My contract ends here. You go on your way playing nursemaid, and I’m off.”

  “Oh, you’re going to stay,” Caderyn said, finally finding what he was searching for. He leaned down and removed a large, brown leather bag from around the shoulders of one of the dead brown-robed Nephilim that had fallen in the initial ambush. “Here. I figured they had to have some kind of items to care for her with them. You can change her.”

  “Ummm, yeah, so about that. Did you not hear anything I just said?” Susan lifted the baby with outstretched arms toward Caderyn. “Ugh, she smells like rotten milk and spoiled vegetables.”

  “Oh, I heard everything you said,” Caderyn said with a toothy grin. “But you’re going to change the baby and go with us to New Hope, because you obviously have more experience with children than I have.”

  “And if I say no?”

  “Well, then,” Caderyn growled. His grin faded and his eyes flashed a deep red. “I have no use for you.”

  “Give me the bag,” Susan said with a furrowed brow. She didn’t seem frightened by Caderyn’s threat, just more pissed that she actually had to change a dirty diaper. “You have blood all over your face still, by the way. I wasn’t going to tell you, but now that we’re going to be traveling together, you should probably know.”

  Caderyn searched the dead once more for water. He found beaten canteen amongst one of the dead scavengers with a wooden name tag that read: Stevie. The Elite human washed his face with the cool liquid before taking a long drought.

  “By the way, how did you know I have experience with children?” Susan asked from the clean spot of grass where she changed the baby just off the road. “I never mentioned that.”

  “I saw the way you held her and the initial rush to her side to make sure she wasn’t injured.” Caderyn walked over toward Susan, getting a full whiff of the baby’s soiled diaper. Up to now, he had managed to ignore it, even with his heightened senses, but this was too much. “I think … I think I’m going to be sick.”

  Caderyn bent over double, dry heaving.

  “The mighty Elite warrior is brought to his knees by a baby’s diaper?” Susan laughed as she wrapped the child in a clean cloth. “I’ll have to remember to save her next deposit and put it next to you while you sleep.”

  “Do it and—”

  “I know, I know you’ll kill me. Promises, promises,” Susan said, standing up with the child. She slung the leather satchel over her shoulder and rummaged inside for a moment. She came back a second later with a glass bottle with milk inside. “Good find with the bag. Well, let’s get on with it. The sooner we get to New Hope, the sooner this can all be over.”

  “One minute,” Caderyn said, spitting the hint of the brown diaper out of his mouth. “I can taste it.”

  He looked over at Susan propping the baby up with one hand as she fed the tiny human being. The baby sucked down the white liquid as if she hadn’t eaten in days. She looked like a pink lump of dough, all smiles and twinkling eyes.

  The Nephilim, Andrew, said the child was meant for great things, Caderyn thought. If he was right, maybe you were meant to save her. Maybe the events here happened like they were always supposed to happen. Maybe—

  “Come on,” Susan said already beginning down the road. “I’m not getting any younger here, and you still have blood, like, all over your face. You should do something about that if we’re going to be seen together.”

  The End

  * * *

  Follow the child’s story and find out who Charlotte Sloan becomes in House of Wolves or discover more about Caderyn and the Elites in, The Beast Within.

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  Falling Ashes

  Laura Greenwood

  Prologue

  Flames licked against her skin and she tried her best not to laugh. Didn't the fools realise they couldn't burn a phoenix? It only made them stronger.

  The fire was hot, there was no doubting that, but instead of the burns they were hoping for, all it really did to Kenna was tickle a little bit. It was almost comical, especially with the villagers dancing around her as if she was an ancient sacrifice. She guessed in some ways she was, they were burning her as a witch after all.

  There was a lot of irony there. Especially as she could have sworn she'd seen one of the Hunters themselves using his magic. Or maybe she was just looking for the way out it would give her.

  Now came the annoying part. She had to pretend to die so she could rise from the ashes. Problem was, she'd never had to pretend before. She'd actually died four or five times, she'd stopped counting, but pretending wasn't something she'd done. She was just grateful she'd watched enough of these burnings now to be able to fake how it was done.

  Tipping her head back, she let out a long scream, calling on her inner phoenix to make the sound as harrowing as possible. The Hunters surrounding the fire laughed at her imagined discomfort. All except for one. He watched with a look of pure disgust on his face, whether for her, or the act of burning, she wasn't so sure. Kenna narrowed her eyes, trying to get a better look at him. It was hard to see his features through the flickering fire light, but he seemed handsome. A chiselled jaw and dark hair hidden under his ragged hat. The man's clothing in general was a little worse for wear, but that was the norm for the standard Hunters as far as Kenna could tell.

  Her dress burned away, leaving her bare and even more exposed to the flames. That was good. With every lick of the flames, her magic grew stronger. She might even be able to turn into her phoenix form at this rate. She didn’t often make a habit of standing in flames, and so it was difficult to build up her magic most of the time, and for that reason, she didn't. With all the Witch Hunters around these days, it would be foolhardy to set a bonfire going and stand in the middle soaking in the heat. Nothing said witch more than doing the impossible. It was an amusing thought for Kenna, especially as she wasn't a witch, and as far as she knew, didn't have any in her bloodline.

  She closed her eyes
, letting out another scream, but weaker this time. She slumped down on the stake behind her slightly, hoping that would be enough to convince the watching men that she was dead. So long as they didn't notice her hair and skin were still intact, without any hint of a burn, then she should be fine. If they did notice...it was best not to think about it. Fire might not kill her, but drowning certainly would. And while there was a good chance she'd still manage to be reborn, she didn't want to take the risk of the water dampening her fire.

  Maybe she should have thought about that before she'd got herself caught. It'd been a stupid decision on her part, but the pregnant gypsy girl she'd healed had been too young to die. And her unborn child certainly didn't deserve to. It had been pure bad luck that a Hunter had come across her with her hands pressed against the woman's stomach, glowing a pale gold colour. There'd been no denying she'd been using magic, which was a little problematic. She could have run, she supposed, but that would have risked the magic not taking, and she couldn't bear the thought of the girl losing her baby. That would just be wrong.

  As the flames began to die out, she became more and more concerned about whether or not she'd convincingly died in the eyes of the Hunters. Of course, one of her other worries was about the rumors she'd heard concerning them and the corpses of the so-called witches that were left intact enough for them to do unspeakable things to. If they tried that with her, then they'd definitely figure out she wasn't dead.

  Cold hands touched her wrists, and it was all Kenna could do not to react. She couldn't let them know, she had to keep pretending she was dead. But how? How could she fake it when they were touching her?

  "Please don't move," a rough male voice said. "I'm going to cut the ties." She wanted to frown, but didn't. How had the ties even survived the fire? Had they dipped them in some kind of protective coating? More likely, there was magic involved. It was even possible that the Hunters were well aware of the witch among them. In some ways, it was the only real way it made sense.

  A cold knife slipped between her wrists, and she felt the ties fall away. Her skin itched where it'd been rubbed raw by the tightness of her binds. Apparently, none of the Hunters particularly cared whether or not her skin broke. Then again, their plans resulted in her dead, so why should they care, really?

  "You need to run, Kenna," the man's voice said. She couldn't help it, she reacted, twisting around so she could see his face. Only, she was disappointed to find it covered by a mask, with no way to find any discernible features. "Run as fast as you can, and try and evade the Hunters this time."

  "Who are you?" she croaked, her voice hoarse from all the fake screaming she'd done while in the fire.

  "A friend. But I can't always be there to save you." He passed her a bundle of wadded up fabric, and she unfurled it, pleased to discover a dress within. Not a fancy one, but then, she was used to that. There was nothing fancy about her and there never had been. Her feathers may be golden, but that was the only wealth she had, and somehow, selling phoenix feathers didn't seem like a good way to stay under the radar. And that was without taking into account how much it felt like selling herself too. It was something she'd do if she really had to, but would avoid at all costs.

  She dressed hastily, conscious of the masked man's eyes on her. But this wasn't the time for modesty. Too many people had seen her clothes burn away for that anyway. This was the time to act quickly.

  "Thank you, sir," she said once she was dressed.

  "You're welcome, Kenna," he replied. "Now, run. Before they realise your body is gone and not just burned."

  She nodded once in acknowledgement, before turning and fleeing into the night.

  Chapter 1

  She was covered in mud from head to toe, but there was nothing new there. Mud, dirt and grime had been her entire life for the past two years. Anything to avoid another trip to the pyre. The fire itself still wasn't an issue, but the need to escape was. Being on the run was no fun either. So far, she'd only had one narrow encounter, and it'd happened because she'd become desperate, and sung in a tavern. She shouldn't have done it, she knew that. Her singing voice was ethereal, clearly beyond the realms and capacity of any human. Unfortunately, there'd been a Hunter in attendance, and not the witch one. Him she should be able to bribe if he ever came across her alone. The rest, not so much. She could try and persuade them with some of her other charms, but that just ended up in her feeling cheap. There were some things she'd never sell, her body and her plumage being two of them.

  "Excuse me, miss," a small voice came, and she turned to see a small child tugging on her skirts. Her heart went out to the child, who was clearly living on the streets. She was ragged and sickly looking, with sores on her skin and a nest of hair that was likely full of lice.

  "Is there anything I can do, little one?" she asked gently, fishing in her skirts for the crust of bread she was sure was in there. Finding it, she pulled it out and offered it to the little girl, who all but snatched it from her hands. Kenna's heart broke. She hated the thought of any child being on the streets and going hungry, it shouldn't be the way the world worked. As it stood, the Lords were rich, and the peasants poor. The little girl and herself were definitely part of the latter category.

  "Thank you," the little girl said, sticking the bread in her mouth and gnawing on the hard crust. "My father needs you."

  "He does?" Kenna frowned. No one ever needed her. No one knew who she was to need her. And she liked it that way. Anonymity was the way she stayed safe now she was on the run. Maybe she'd stayed here for too long. That had to be the case for anyone to know who she was.

  "Yes, please come?" Her eyes widened as she gnawed on the bread more, and despite knowing it was a bad idea, Kenna nodded.

  "Lead on, little one."

  The girl held out her hand, and Kenna took it reluctantly. She wasn't sure she really trusted going with the girl, but it was her only choice given the circumstances. The girl dragged her down a warren of dim alleyways. Okay, so this wasn't looking up in the slightest. In fact, it was all ridiculously shady and made her question all of her life decisions.

  "Just a little further," the girl said, pulling her even further into the dark. Why oh why had Kenna decided to hide herself in a town? Oh yes. People. The more people were about, the more people she could hide among. Unfortunately, that also meant tall stone walls and dark places. Not to mention people lurking who shouldn't. It wasn't a safe time to be a lone woman. Then again, when was it?

  "Where are you taking me?" Kenna asked, finally giving in to the curiosity that was welling up inside her.

  "To see my Father." This time, the little girl's voice shook, suggesting there was something more to it than just a trip to see her family.

  "What does he want?"

  "I can't-"

  "That'll be all thank you, Freida," a voice came from the left. Dread flowed through Kenna, it was never good to come across strange voices while she was being hunted. That was a good way to end up in a terrible situation. Or strapped to a pyre again.

  The man pressed a coin into the little girl's hand. Not actually her Father then. At least, not unless they had a really odd relationship, and if that was the case, then Kenna wanted even less to do with them.

  "I'll just be going," she said, turning on the spot and making to leave the alley and the man far behind. These situations would never ended well.

  "No, you won't," the man demanded, catching hold of her wrist and squeezing tightly. She bit back a whimper, not wanting him to know just how much power he had in this situation. That wasn't going to be the way to get out of this in one piece. Of course, she could burn him and let her phoenix take over, but if he was a Hunter, and there was a good chance he was, given the circumstances, that'd be a fast way to be found out again.

  "Let go of me," she growled, the warning more than clear, but she doubted he'd heed her. Men never did. Women either to be fair. Humans in general were particularly idiotic. They didn't seem able to properly tell when they were
best off leaving her be or they'd get hurt.

  "I don't think so, Kenna," he said, though not quite as threateningly as before. Maybe there was more to it after all. "I need your help."

  "My help?" She laughed, bitterness flowing through her. He'd bribed a child to get her, then threatened her, and now he was asking for her help? That was rich.

  "Yes, your help. They say you're a witch." He looked uneasy, and quickly let go of her wrist. Possibly not as idiotic as he seemed then.

  "No. I'm not a witch," she sneered at him. "And I'd thank you not to use that word. It attracts unwanted attention."

  "I know it does. That's why I need your help." His eyes softened, and his face crumpled. Kenna felt herself soften towards him. Which wasn't good at all. She couldn't let him get to her. Otherwise she'd give him what he wanted, and that was a fast way to end up caught, dead and dismembered. Not the best way to go, even she knew that.

  "How do you think I can help you?" she asked despite herself. Inwardly, she cursed. This wasn't a good idea at all. She never did learn, that was the reason her Mother had abandoned her after all. She'd wanted to heal and help everyone.

  "My daughter..."

  Well, that had her almost convinced already. The moment children entered the picture, Kenna was pretty much all in. She hated even the thought of children in trouble or in less than ideal circumstances. Even so, she managed to just about bite her tongue. She'd hear him out, but promise him nothing. Not yet, anyway.

  "Yes?" she prompted when he was silent a little too long. She took the chance to study him properly, but was disappointed. The shadows almost concealed him completely, and what they didn't, was covered in the tattered woollen cloak he was wearing.