The Lost Sun Series Box Set 1: Books 1 and 2 (Lost Sun Box Set)

by Riley Morrison

  The ghost woman glanced at the faces in the darkness. "Imogen stood high among us once. A true visionary and creator." The woman paused. "Then her Steel Children rebelled and turned our world into a frozen waste. Now Imogen has returned, and will finish what she began—the final destruction of humankind."

  "Dwaycar used me to try to stop her." Semira sat up. "I fought alongside those that worshiped him. We tried to stop the half-blood, Kara, from unleashing doom upon humanity. But we failed." Semira sighed. "We failed utterly." And all the murder and betrayal I committed has been for nothing. Nothing!

  "Dressen will use his new body to fight her. He will not give up. Imogen must be stopped. I tried to go with him, but there was no host for me. Now he is on his own, and has not come back to visit." She paused. "I worry for him."

  Semira laughed bitterly. "Well there's nothing I can do about it anymore. It seems Dwaycar has abandoned us both."

  The anger she felt as she said that surprised Semira. Dwaycar had betrayed her. He'd lied to her and led her astray. It was him that had made her kill her own family. She'd hated her brethren at Sunholm, but they had been her people and before him, she'd never wished them harm, no matter how much they'd hurt her.

  "Then we both know the pain of his loss."

  Semira got to her feet. "What is your name?"

  "I no longer remember my name."

  "So what do I call you?"

  "Your father calls me Aisha. So call me that." She studied Semira. "Do you no longer seek your own death?"

  What do I seek? Semira ran her fingers through her hair. Death would be welcome, but so would vengeance. Vengeance upon the being who betrayed me. She cleared her throat. "I don't know. My father..."

  "He told me what you did," Aisha said. "You murdered him." Semira nodded once, her mouth a tight line. "He will forgive you, if you ask it of him."

  "How do you know he'll forgive me? I not only killed him, I killed my sister, Liana, and helped the Knives of Dwaycar butcher the rest of my people."

  "Tell him who was inside you and what was at stake. Remember, Dressen did what he felt needed to be done. It was unfortunate that your father got in his way."

  Semira crossed her arms. "I don't want my father's forgiveness." Her voice betrayed her by almost breaking. "I hate him."

  The woman appeared almost as vivid as the buildings around her. She had high cheek bones, a lithe frame and olive skin. Her brown eyes were her most startling feature. They snared Semira in their depths. "See my pain," Aisha said. "Unlike you, I can ask no one for forgiveness because I no longer remember what I did or whom I wronged. All I know is that I feel guilt for some great misdeed that I committed, long ago."

  She grabbed Semira's arm with an icy grip. "Seek redemption, for if you do not—you will never leave this place and will linger here forever, like me, your memories fading one by one as this world is consumed by corruption."

  Semira wrenched away. "Then I'll kill myself. I won't feel anything that way."

  The woman let out a loud, bitter laugh and faded again. "You think I have not tried to end my life?" Her eyes scanned the surrounding buildings and came to rest on the shadowy faces pressed against the glass, their puckering mouths letting out a melody of pain. "One thing I do remember of the creation of this place is that you cannot die here, but you can feel pain. Endless pain." She shook her head sadly. "Those people who call to us through the glass have forgotten even that. They are near mindless, forever cold, hungry and afraid." Aisha lowered her head and spoke almost to herself. "Such a fate awaits all who cannot leave here."

  If what Aisha said was true, then Semira had few options. She could remain here and suffer endlessly or find the strength to stand before the shade of her father and the vile half-blood. Perhaps together, Semira and her sister could find a way to return to their bodies and have vengeance upon the so-called divines who had stolen them.

  "Fine. I will go back and confront my father." She glanced back at the things in the glass.

  A fate such as theirs was worse than living.

  CHAPTER 14

  AEMON

  It took Aemon and Imogen, along with her army of Secondborn and harvesters, another four days to build the giant bridge spanning the chasm. The machines had worked furiously, without stop, the sounds of their labor echoing all around them. When they were done, Imogen carried Aemon across.

  He was surprised—and more than a little disquieted—he could see the lights of a small settlement in the distance and glowing bacteria on the roof of the cavern. Erinie had been right in saying the highway headed back to Stelemia.

  "Where are we?" Imogen asked Aemon, who was cradled like a child in her arms.

  "How should I know?"

  She started squeezing him. "You come from here. It looks like a small town. How many small towns are there?"

  Aemon studied the distant lights. The town was indeed small and built close to the edge of Stelemia. Where could they be?

  Then he had it. "I think we might be on the Ebon Shelf and those lights are the town that shares its name." He looked up at her as she eased up on squeezing him. "They might know we are here. When your children were constructing the bridge, they were making a lot of noise."

  Imogen sat him against a stalagmite. "Indalius, send out some units to scout around. I want to know what is out there."

  Aemon touched her leg. "Wait. You could take me to the settlement and we could see what is happening for ourselves. If people see your children, they might think they are the enemy and bring the army down on us."

  She stared down at him a moment, then patted him on the head like he was a loyal hound. "You are right. I will carry you into the settlement."

  "No, I will lean on you. If people see me in your arms, they might ask questions."

  "Why?"

  He broke eye contact. "Well, women do not normally carry men around."

  Imogen put her hands on her hips. "Because women are weak? Is that what you are saying?"

  "No..." He grimaced. "Well, a little of that, but I mainly meant people will assume something is wrong when two strangers come into their town and they see a woman who looks blind carrying a man in her arms. Being strangers, we are going to draw enough attention as is, without adding to it."

  She sent Asura to Indalius, hid the passkey under her robe, then held out her hand for Aemon to grab. "Fine, come on."

  He took it, and she pulled him up. His leg ached, but with her to lean on, he could limp along. "If you are going to go to the temple, we need to find out exactly where we are and what stands between us and it," Aemon said. "I think if anyone sees your children they will assume they are your Firstborn and will call for the army to come and stop us."

  They started off. "They can try to stop me, but my children will make short work of them."

  Aemon slowed his pace. "I will not help you if you start killing people. I thought you came back to save us."

  Imogen gave him Kara's toothy smile. He hated Imogen for that. That smile belonged to Kara! "I have come to save humanity, and that is why I need you. If someone tries to stop us, I want you to convince them to stand down. Play the diplomat, as it were."

  There was little chance Aemon would be able to convince the army Imogen's children were here to help Stelemia. Would the soldiers be able to tell the difference between the Secondborn and the metal beasts who were slaughtering them? Not likely. They would see walking metal monsters and attack.

  Aemon began biting a tiny regrowth of fingernail. Who did Imogen think he was? Ashly of Boulder Field, the woman who could calm any situation with her sharp wit and easy tongue? No. Imogen would not know of Ashly. She just expects me to do the impossible.

  The fact he did not know Imogen's exact intentions—beyond her claiming she would save humanity—made the prospect of negotiating with the Stelemian army all the more difficult. If he could not bring himself to believe she had good intentions—why should they?

  By now they had passed into the mushroom f
arms growing around the edges of the town. All the sacred lights that should have been illuminating the fields were dark. Had something happened to the power?

  Imogen studied the dead lights as they walked by. "I find it interesting Radashan and Dressen brought the technology of electricity and our vitamin-enriching solar lights with them when they fled Annbar, and yet they didn't bring our weapons or much of our other technologies."

  "Maybe they did, but after they died, the knowledge was lost."

  "More likely they didn't want a challenge to their rule, so they made people use primitive weapons rather than the advanced weaponry we fled the surface with. I bet they themselves held onto the ancient tech, just in case they ever needed it. They were both part of the technocratic elite, like I was, and after the war against my Firstborn, we elites had to use force to keep the dirty masses under control. The masses blamed us, but most especially me, for what happened to their homes on the surface."

  It was strange hearing about things predating Stelemia from someone who had lived them. Not only that, from her own words, Imogen had made the enemy Stelemia now faced. And here I am helping her bring more of her children here. But what choice do I have? I'm the only one who might be able to stop her if she becomes a threat—and she might be the only one with the power to defeat the enemy.

  "According to our religious beliefs, Dwaycar is said to have hated your technologies," Aemon said. "His followers fought a war against the Order of Ibilirith in an event called the Black Out War. The Knives of Dwaycar broke many of the lights in Stelemia and went on to assault the Serdtse Power Plant. In the end, they were driven out into the Great Dark."

  "Serdtse? That means heart in my native language."

  "It is a word from the ancient language of Ibilirith—" It suddenly occurred to him who he was speaking to. "Well, anyway, your brother hates the technologies of the Order who worships you."

  "Always the fool, my brother, but those that followed him more so. What sort of brainless dimwit would forgo nourishing lights and electricity in a dark and dismal place such as this?" She gestured vaguely into the distance.

  "What is a dimwit?" Aemon asked. Imogen seemed to speak like a Stelemian at times, then at others she spoke like someone from far away. Or from another time. He knew what dim and wit meant, but had never heard them spoken together.

  Imogen grinned. "Go look it up in an illustrated compendium of words and you will find your face drawn under it."

  Suddenly, Aemon's leg gave out under him. "Watch yourself," Imogen said, holding him upright.

  He gritted his teeth, trying not to cry out in pain. "Keep moving," he gasped through gritted teeth. "The sooner we get there, the sooner I can sit down."

  They moved off again, and Imogen continued her rumination of the past. "Our society was built on technology that allowed us technocratic elites to rule unchallenged for many years." She ran her fingers over her face. "What I saw through Kara's eyes... I never would've believed Dressen and Radashan would create such a backward society, even if they feared an uprising against them. My brother can hate technology all he wants, but even he knows it has its uses and not all of them are bad."

  She stared at a pile of discarded iron farming implements and shook her head, her hair brushing Aemon's cheek. "You primitives are lucky I have returned. My Firstborn would have slaughtered you all and you wouldn't have stood a chance."

  As they neared a watchtower at the edge of a road, a dozen spear-wielding guards charged at them from inside. They formed into a loose shieldwall in front of them, blocking their path. After Aemon got over his initial surprise, he whispered to Imogen, "Let me do the talking."

  One of the guards stepped forward and removed their helmet. "Who are you?" the female officer snarled. "Are you responsible for all the noise coming from the darkness beyond the Ebon Shelf?"

  At least Aemon knew for certain where they were now. He studied the people before him. They appeared jumpy, and by the way they held their spears leveled at Aemon, they were more than willing to kill him.

  Taking a calming breath, Aemon said, "We have come a long way and need food and rest."

  The officer jabbed at him with her spear, more to intimidate rather than hurt him. "Answer my question. Who are you? Were you the ones making the noise out there?"

  Aemon glanced at Imogen as she tensed. He needed to make up a story quickly or Imogen might do something that would bring the army down on them. "Yes, it was us. We have been out in the Great Dark searching for something for my noble father." It was a dumb lie, but it gave him something to work with.

  "The Great Dark..." The officer looked taken aback.

  "Yes. I am Aemon of House Pulmard; my father's name is Nathon." He did not like sharing his real name, for Rubin might hear of it, but if he was going to work with this lie, it had to be as close to the truth as possible. As unlikely as it might be, one of the guards might know of his family name and vouch for him.

  "House Pulmard? I've never heard of it." She glanced at her underlings and they either shook their heads or shrugged, or in one case scratched their groin.

  Aemon frowned. "We are a mid-ranked noble family, so I am not surprised you have never heard of my family name."

  "Aye, he speaks like a stuck-up noble," one of the guards said. "He looks all prim and proper-like too."

  "I've seen girls with a thicker beard than him," another man laughed.

  The first guard clapped the other on the back. "And most, only half as pretty."

  Aemon wanted to bare his teeth at the guards but their japes at his expense seemed to calm the tension in the air.

  The officer pointed her spear at Imogen. She had not relaxed at all, her spear held tight. "Who is the blind woman holding you up? Does she speak?"

  Imogen still felt tense, her muscles bulging. "I speak," she said, in a sickly sweet voice. "I am his beautiful, adoring and ever-obedient wife. My dear husband is injured, and has had to lean on me." She kissed Aemon's cheek with wet lips and he tried not to show his revulsion. "I would carry him in my arms, if I only had the strength." That last bit was said with such overacted melodrama, Aemon almost wished he could beat his head against a rock to end it all.

  "She can carry me all she likes," one of the guards said. "With lips—"

  The female officer struck the ground with the butt of her spear and the guard instantly fell silent. She and Imogen stared at one another. "So tell me why two nobles were out in the Great Dark without an escort," the officer demanded. "Only heretics and villains live out there."

  "And monsters too," a guard added, his companions nodding in agreement.

  "My noble father sent me out there with a small company of our household knights." Aemon did not have to fake the pained look he gave the officer. "We are the only survivors on a mission in search of—"

  "This," Imogen said, cutting him off. She held up one of the smaller guns and aimed it at the officer's head.

  The officer did not blink. She seemed to have no idea Imogen could end her life in an instant. Aemon did not know much about the ancient weapons, but from what Imogen had said of them, they were dangerous. He reached up and gently lowered her arm. "What are you doing?" he whispered. "Are you trying to get us killed?"

  "No, I'm showing her I have teeth. If she tries anything, I want her to know she'll die."

  "She does not know what it is."

  The officer took a cautious step forward. "What are you two whispering about? What is that thing?"

  Aemon forced what he hoped was a friendly smile. "I was telling my wife to be careful with the artifact. It is fragile and she might drop it." He sighed. "Now, can we head into town and find somewhere more comfortable to talk? My leg is killing me and I need to sit down."

  The female officer slowly nodded her head, then lowered her weapon. Imogen put the gun away and wrapped her arm around Aemon and kissed him on top of the head. "Fine work."

  THEY WERE LED TOWARD a stone table beside a well at the center of the torchlit
town. It came as such a relief to Aemon to be back in civilization, he almost wanted to forget everything that had happened for a few blessed minutes and just sit in silence and stare at the carved streets and stone houses. But there was no time for a moment's respite. The officer made them sit at the table, then whispered to the men sitting there. The younger of the two men nodded and dismissed the female officer.

  The armored man, with shoulder-length brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard, studied the two of them with curious eyes. Aemon picked him for a noble. His hair was combed, his skin clean, but what marked him most was the insignia he wore over his shining chain armor. A torch burning within a lightbulb. A knight of House Toron.

  But who was he? Would he believe Aemon's lies?

  The knight reached over the maps and reports spread out on the table in front of him and picked up a steaming metal cup and took a drink from it. Aemon caught a whiff of shroom tea and his mouth watered. Lowering the cup and placing it on the table with a loud clank, the knight said, "My name is Sir Royce, Captain of the Fourth Regiment of Eryport Spears." He bowed his head. "I have heard of your noble family, Sir Aemon. My father served under your father, Sir Rodnie, during the Second War of the Abyss."

  Aemon leaned back in his chair. This was unexpected. "Sir Rodnie was my grandfather."

  "I apologize then. From what I hear, Sir Rodnie was a brave man."

  A brief image of Aemon sitting on his grandfather's knee came to him. His grandfather had never spoken of the war against the false Priest King nor anything about the rest of his time in the army. "He was."

  The captain glanced around the town square filled with metal crates, weapons, wagons and unlit sacred lights. Then his eyes fell on Imogen. "I apologize for the lack of proper accommodations and the general disorder of this place, my lady. My unit and I are only here for a few days before we are to return to the front lines." He watched some townspeople quietly go about their daily business at the edge of the square. "We came here to reassure the local populace the army is still here to protect them."