Ruins Falling
Page 16
Graedin got down to one knee, frightened. In his terror, he was just about to fall on his face. He almost did when the creature began shouting angrily. “What are you doing? I am not the King of Ye’shurun, that you should show me fealty. Get up!”
Graedin stumbled as he stood, but managed to stand, shaking. It took him a few moments to gain the courage, but when he finally spoke, it came out in a meek whisper. “If you’re not…then…are you…are you an enchanter?”
The creature paused. Then slowly, even sadly, nodded. Graedin inhaled, staring at its ever-changing skin, its bright eyes, the wispy silver vapor when it moved. Enchanters were shape-shifters and warriors who could control the elements. They rarely revealed themselves to humans. Graedin had never understood why. But the one thing he knew, mainly from the stories about the magical King of Ye’shurun, was that they had a kind of law among themselves to leave humans alone. If they tried to harm humans, whether by physical force or their magic, they were cast out. Even given a cursed name. “And that woman—Thayrah?—she was a sorceress?” he asked.
Again, the creature nodded. Then it frowned, and Graedin shuddered in its stern gaze. “Your danger isn’t over, Graedin. The Princes are your enemies just as much as that sorceress. They fear you, and they will try to kill you. You must flee to the mountains.”
Graedin blinked. Then words burst from within him. “But—I have to go back! There are two children—Daireth and Airaine—they’re in Ariel, and I have to—”
“—I know,” the enchanter interrupted, his voice gentle. “I know. Get them out of there, swiftly. Then flee east.” The enchanter looked away, and Graedin back over his shoulder. The men trembled in the presence of the enchanter. Graedin jumped when he saw that the enchanter had walked right beside him. He could feel the hairs rise on his arms and neck. “A storm is brewing in Ye’shurun,” the creature declared. “If you serve the Twelve Princes and forsake the King, I warn you, that choice is death. Forsake the Princes, and follow Graedin as he finds the King, and you’ll be rewarded in time. Ye’shurun is crumbling. And neither the King nor his enemies will allow a middle ground. You must choose. So choose life, so you and your kin can truly live!”
Graedin swallowed. The King was alive? Over four hundred years ago, the people had been rebellious toward the King, afraid of and resenting his magic and strict obedience to his laws. So he’d allowed the people to select twelve princes to rule over the land, and then disappeared. As the stories stated it, the king had declared he would not give up his throne, but he would wait until the people grew weary of the Twelve Princes and sought his rule again. But that was over four hundred years ago. According to the stories, he’d been alive for eight hundred years before that. Did his magic keep him alive? And how in the world could he be found?
Graedin meant to ask that. But instead, overwhelmed with his worries, more pressing matters spluttered out of his mouth. “But what if we’re attacked again? How will we defend ourselves against sorcerers? And how will we get out of here? Our path is blocked!”
The enchanter turned back and placed a hand on his shoulder. Something powerful rushed through his body. He wondered if that was what lightning felt like. “We will make a way for you. Don’t be afraid of your journey back.” Those amber eyes almost hurt to look at, like he were looking straight into the sun. “We will guard you to the Rogue River. But remember my warning—you must flee immediately. And don’t reveal your plans to Bairen. The days you were allies are long gone, Graedin. It’s time to let him go.”
Graedin’s jaw dropped. “No—no, I can’t leave him! He’s still—”
“—Let him go,” the enchanter thundered. The hair on Graedin’s skin stood on end. “The prince you loved like a son is long gone, Graedin. It’s time for you to let him go. If you tell him your plans to find the King, he will thwart you. He will harm you. And if you want those children and yourself safe and sound, you must not trust him. You must not tarry in Ariel.”
The enchanter looked past him. Graedin turned. The herd of horses trotting down the trail, calm once more, led by one of the enchanters in the form of a horse. It shifted into a human-like form, as a woman. “They’re unharmed, Sapha. Aman is serving as the rear guard.”
Graedin turned back. “Go back to the first trailhead. Your first choice,” the enchanter told him. “Tend your wounded at its end, and rest. You can go to a fortress for help tomorrow. But don’t be afraid of the night. We won’t leave you.” Then, with wind suddenly rushing all around, blowing hard into Graedin’s face, whipping his hair back, the enchanter shifted into a silvery eagle and flew up into the sky. The enchantress followed after him in the form of a hawk.
It took several minutes to help the exhausted, wounded men into their saddles, and get them as ready as they could be for traveling. Then Graedin mounted his own horse and led the men back down the trail, carefully judging what the worst of the wounded men could handle, and urged the horses into a canter. Once in a while, he caught glimpses of the silvery eagle, hawk, and now a falcon above them. He caught glimpses of his men looking up too, their eyes still wide. Tarven looked pale, almost green, his eyes wide as he searched the hills.
The wind picked up as they drew closer. It pulled at his cloak and began to whistle shrilly, and he heard roaring all around the trails. The wind made the forest boughs whisper, and the very mountains seemed to tremble, but he saw no evidence of impending landslides.
When they turned around the bend, they saw the enchanters again. Two men and one woman lifted their hands, as a massive boulder floated up in the air off of the trail. Together, they clenched their fists and threw them outstretched, each fist toward the opposite side of the cliffs. With an echoing crack!, the boulder burst apart into gravel, half thrown to the right and half thrown to the left, leaving little harm to shower down on the forests at either side. Strangely, the horses remained calm, while their owners gasped. The path was almost clear.
Here, the wind screamed and howled as the enchanters forced tree limbs, rocks and massive amounts of earth forward and to the sides, leaving a narrow but easy path through the middle. When they finished, one of the men and the woman shifted into a fox and a hawk. The fox ran toward them, but disappeared. The hawk flew upward, and disappeared too. The last enchanter, Sapha, turned around. He smiled, and gestured for them to follow. Then he turned back, took a few steps forward, and he too disappeared.
The wind died down immediately. In the lingering silence and stillness, the clouds swirled gray and menacing. They threatened rain or worse, but on the trail between the cliffs, it was calm and warm. Graedin paused, listening. Then he turned and smiled at his men. “Well, shall we?”
The trail twisted and turned, narrow enough they had to follow in single file at times. As they passed by the last bits of cliff into an open plain, Graedin thought he saw a brief flash of silver. When he turned, again, he wasn’t sure if it was the light trying to break through the clouds, or his imagination, but he thought he saw bits of light disappearing. Breaking away from his men, he urged his horse forward, around a couple of trees and boulders, and was surprised to face a deep cave. Rocks and dust were scattered all around. It looked ancient, with vines masking most of the yawning mouth, yet dust lingered in the air all around it.
“They made this cave—didn’t they?” He turned around, and Ki Su’rah was trotting up on his horse. His face looked almost unfamiliar. He was grimed with sweat and dirt and blood from his lower lip. But what startled him most was the emotions roiling over his features. “I didn’t trust you.” He inhaled, and gazed into Graedin’s eyes. “I hate the Princes. They have ruined this country. I only joined the military so my family wouldn’t starve. Then I became a Knight so I could start a coup. I’ve made allies, but I never trusted you. You seemed to be on good terms with them. Especially Bairen. I didn’t think I could trust you.” He swallowed. “I’m sorry.”
Graedin stared. “Well, we aren’t too close—since they want to kill me, apparently.” Bu
t as he remembered, he grit his teeth. “But he was wrong about Bairen. I swear, he was.”
Ki Su’rah glanced over his shoulder. “I don’t know—Bairen scares me to death. Tread carefully with him! And I don’t know what Tarven is up to, after—after that—but I wouldn’t trust him either. I don’t know what he’ll do with all of what the enchanter told us. But as for me…” He turned back, and lifted his chin. “…When you escape Ariel, and my family is safe, I’ll follow after you.” He put one hand over his heart, and one on the hilt of his sword, in salute.
Graedin’s lips parted, but he couldn’t find words for several moments. Finally, he uttered, “How much do you know about the King of Ye’shurun?”
For the first time he’d ever seen, Ki’s lips broke into a genuine smile, crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Not much. But his friends just saved my life, didn’t they? Tell me more.”
If You Enjoyed This Book…
Thank you again for purchasing The Last Throne: Ruins Falling.
If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review on Amazon.
This is the best way to show the author support.
Click Here to Leave A Review
The review can, but does not have to be, long or in-depth.
And the second best way to support the author is
to tell family and friends who like fantasy stories about this book.
Thank you!
About The Author
A. R. Peters is passionate for the natural world and for seeing the broken find healing; especially victims of human trafficking. Because of these two passions, the author can usually be found in a variety of places: studying for a master’s degree in counseling, gardening, or living in adventure by exploring the mountains, forests, and waters of the Pacific Northwest.
Learn more about A. R. Peters and The Last Throne series at
www.arpetersauthor.com