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

by Riley Morrison

  Aemon ran his tongue across the back of his teeth, hoping the next question would not upset the machine. "What happened to you? How did you fall?"

  Indalius's eyes flickered. "I took this sword, a weapon passed down from father to son for generations, and slew a dozen of her harvesters before they cut me down. It was an honorable fight and I died nobly, believing I would ascend to heaven to be with my ancestors." A whirring sound came from deep within the machine-man. "Instead, I ended up in this wretched—"

  Suddenly he jerked, then bent in two, dropping Aemon to the ground. He flailed about, almost hitting Aemon with a metallic arm.

  When the spasms had slowed, Aemon crawled over to help him. Indalius stared up at the roof, unmoving. Imogen loomed over them. "Oh, my poor, sweet child. What have you been saying that triggered your punishment protocol? You would never speak ill of me, would you?"

  Indalius seemed to be in too much pain to speak, so Aemon answered for him. "He was telling me about the past, and the war against the Firstborn."

  Imogen clasped the genkey, and instantly Indalius went still. "Get up, my precious. We draw near to my armor."

  THE GROUP STOPPED ON the precipice overlooking the Temple of Sacred Lights. It stood as physically formidable and imposing as it had the last time Aemon had seen it. But like in Jalarfed, the sacred lights had dimmed, the darkness edging ever closer to drowning them out forever.

  Perhaps the dimmed lights were a manifestation of the change taking place all throughout Stelemia. A precursor to a coming darkness, descending upon them all. But for the Order, their time had come now, for their Holy Ibilirith stood on the threshold of their temple.

  And she had come for them.

  Staring at the temple and thinking of all it represented, Aemon had to shake his head at how pointless it all was. The sermons, the dogma, the silent prayers. The temple was built to worship nothing. Their holy texts were made-up fictions and no divine heard their prayers for deliverance.

  There were no Four Divines, only mortals misremembered.

  Who knew who Lydan and Roryur were? Most likely they were as twisted and evil as Imogen and her brother Dwaycar, if they had ever existed at all.

  Hopefully once Lucien saw Imogen and recognized her as Kara, he would bring the full might of his order to bear and detain her. With Royce and One Eye's help, the warrior monks might be able to defeat the harvesters and Secondborn. The machines might be Stelemia's best hope of defeating the enemy, but Imogen was too unstable and untrustworthy to lead them. Humanity had to find another way to—

  It suddenly occurred to him. If they could somehow remove the genkey from her, she might not be able to control Indalius and the other machines. But how would they go about taking it? If she was threatened in any way, Asura and the machine-men would protect her. If only Aemon still had his mace. He felt powerless without it.

  Royce and One Eye moved over to the bridge as it lowered. When it came to rest, they formed up their soldiers behind them and waited for the group of people on the other side of the span to permit them entry. Aemon's stomach felt like lead. What would Imogen do once she crossed into the temple? If the Order attacked her, what should Aemon do? Stand back and hope that once it was over whoever won did not kill him? Or should he take part and try to seize the genkey?

  The gathering of people across the bridge made their way onto it. Two walked in front of the others. One Aemon recognized as Patriarch Lucien, but the figure beside him, draped in a hooded cloak and stooped like an old man, was unfamiliar. Nothing could be seen of the stranger, but Lucien and the two attending monks behind him seemed to treat them with the utmost respect. The stranger wore a cloak spun of such extraordinary silk, only one as esteemed as the Priest King would ever wear it.

  And yet, this was not the Priest King.

  When the approaching members of the Order reached the end of the bridge, they fell to their knees and prostrated themselves before Imogen, who had walked over to greet them. Aemon stepped back. What was happening? Even Lucien was on the ground, as humble as a beggar. The only one who did not fall before her was the stranger in silk.

  The cloaked figure strode among the prostrated monks. Royce and One Eye moved out of the way and motioned for their soldiers to do the same. Imogen waited for the stranger, her face showing more curiosity than fear or anger. Her children watched on, the harvesters chittering among themselves, the lava reflecting off their long metallic fangs making them look like they were on fire.

  When the stranger reached Imogen he stopped, raised his arms and removed his hood. What Aemon saw took his breath away. And he was not the only one. Everyone there seemed to hold their breath and stare.

  Even Imogen seemed shaken.

  "Welcome, Ibilirith, my love, I have waited eons for you."

  CHAPTER 26

  MINARD

  "HIDE," ERINIE SAID as she ducked behind a flowstone.

  Minard joined her. "What is it?"

  Erinie sniffed. "Smell that?"

  "What?" He couldn't smell anything.

  "Jamalgana. I know their smell. I think there is a nesting ground nearby."

  Minard touched his gun to reassure himself of its presence. He had encountered one of those beasts before. If there was a nest here, there would likely be many. "What do we do?"

  Erinie bit her lip, her eyes glittering thoughtfully in the torchlight. "I think we go back to that chamber we just passed through and I'll search the map for another path."

  Sighing, Minard led her back the way they'd come. Retracing their steps had become a regular occurrence. Erinie had said this region seemed far more populated with monsters than the areas closer to Sunholm and Stelemia. Less people meant more monsters, he supposed.

  So far they had not run into any of these creatures, other than the savages back at the village. But Minard expected their luck wouldn't hold out. And it didn't.

  When they got back to the chamber, they found they were not alone.

  Minard pulled Erinie back into the passage as a figure leapt down at them from above. They both tripped on the uneven surface, falling onto their backs. Minard was on his feet in an instant, raising his gun and flicking off the safety. He pointed the barrel to where he had seen the figure, but there was nothing there.

  Had he been seeing things? A trick of the flickering torchlight?

  Erinie had her gun out too and had taken up position to guard their flank. "What did you see?" she hissed.

  "There was something there. I only caught a glimpse of it."

  She scanned the chamber over her shoulder, her gun pointing back the way they'd come. "I don't see anything."

  Minard lit a second torch off the first and tossed it into the chamber. Nothing. He frowned, certain something had been there.

  Dropping his equipment, he crept forward, nerves on edge, weapon ready. I am the doors that protect her tomb. I am her servant for as long as she has need of me. I belong to Lady Ibilirith.

  He reached the opening leading back into the chamber and paused. Still nothing. Maybe he had—

  Then he saw it. A dozen feet above his head. A root-like limb curled around a stalactite.

  The limb moved. He raised the gun and let out a bellowing challenge. "Come out and fight me, heathen!"

  "Ya ne khochu bor'by. Ya khochu mira."

  It sounded like one of the flower-faces from back at the Dead City. He recognized the odd, but infuriatingly familiar language. Erinie came up beside him. "What is it?"

  "I think one of those flower-things followed us."

  Erinie leaned outside of the opening and searched the chamber roof. "I see it. There seems to be only one."

  Minard nodded. "I'm going to run out there and shoot it."

  Taking a deep breath, he charged into the chamber, spun to face the wall and brought up his weapon. The flower-person stared down at him, its arms still wrapped around a stalactite. It didn't move to attack like he expected it would.

  Keeping his finger poised on the trigger,
he asked, "What are you doing here?"

  The flower-face grimaced. "Ne prichinyat' bol'." One of its vine-arms let go of the stalactite and curled up on itself. The flower stared at him with pleading eyes. Perhaps the curled arm meant it had surrendered.

  Minard kept his gun pointed toward the creature. "Erinie, come out here quickly. This thing seems to want to talk, not fight."

  She raced out, passing under the flower-thing, and joined him. Training her gun on the creature, she asked, "Why are you following us?"

  Slowly, the flower lowered itself to the ground, then retracted its arms and lowered its face. "Moi lyudi mertvy. Nuzhno nayti lyudey. Ya ne khochu ostavat'sya odin."

  "We don't know what you're saying," Erinie said.

  The flower-thing let out a very human-like sob. "Nikakikh ubiystv. Ya byl chelovekom kak ty. Genetika izmenila menya."

  Minard's heart skipped a beat. He thought he recognized some of what the creature said. "Say that again. Genetika."

  The flower-thing glanced up at him. "Genetika? Chto vy, lyudi, v etom ponimayete?"

  Minard nodded. Now he knew why the language seemed familiar. "This language it speaks. I know what it is."

  Erinie glanced at him, her gun still aimed at the creature. "How?"

  "Because my Order tried to teach some of it to me. I believe it's speaking the ancient language of Ibilirith." He shrugged. "But I don't know much of it, though there are some in my order who know more than enough they might be able to understand this thing."

  "Do you know enough to ask why it's here?"

  Minard shook his head. "I only know a few words. It mentioned genetika, which means genetics."

  "Genetics? How odd... unless..." She studied the flower-thing. "Maybe this thing was once human and genetics changed it."

  That made sense. Its face was definitely human. Considering the beasts of the Great Dark were said to have been made with the sciences of the old world, it seemed plausible the ancients would also turn their technologies to altering humans into monsters.

  But why turn them into walking flowers?

  Maybe the scion had been right back at the tavern in Rylore Bellholes. The ancients had done these things because they could.

  "Chto vy budete delat' so mnoy?"

  Minard lowered his gun. After a moment, Erinie did too. "I don't think it's here to hurt us," Minard said. "What do you think we should do with him?"

  She shouldered her weapon and carefully approached the flower-person and put a hand on her chest. "My name is Erinie. What's yours?"

  The flower-man stood its ground and made no threatening moves. As she moved within a few feet of it, a limb reached out to hold her back. Erinie backed off. "I guess he doesn't want me near him." She gestured at the flower. "What is your name?" She spoke slowly, as if to a child. "Name."

  "Sanya."

  "Sanya." Erinie repeated the name, then smiled reassuringly. "We won't hurt you if you don't try to hurt us."

  Sanya opened and closed the petals surrounding his face. Erinie motioned Minard to her side. He scooped up the torch and moved toward Sanya. The flower-man stared at the torch, his face twisted in horror. Backing away, he moaned.

  Minard stopped as Erinie waved him back. "I don't think he likes fire."

  "Well after what happened back in the Dead City, I don't blame him." Minard held the torch behind his back.

  The distant hiss of a beast made Minard stiffen. It sounded like a jamalgana.

  "We need to move," Erinie said, as an answering hiss sounded closer than the first.

  They grabbed their things, keeping one eye on Sanya. "What about him?" Minard asked as Erinie studied her map.

  "He's followed us this far, so I assume he'll keep doing it."

  Minard studied the flower-man, who studied him back with round yellow eyes. One of the petals rolled up into itself. It was an odd movement, almost painful looking. Did it mean something? The petal unfurled, then rolled up again. Was it some sort of nervous tick? A display of fear? Who knew with freaks like this?

  "Alright, this one looks the most promising," Erinie said, starting down a passage that required her to turn sideways to fit in.

  Minard groaned. He was well and truly over tight squeezes. But they beat being eaten by a hungry monster, I suppose. Following her in, he went some distance, then watched to see if Sanya followed them. The flower-man stared at him from outside the entrance to the passage. Minard continued on, and only when Sanya was out of the light did Minard hear him enter the passage behind them.

  AFTER MAKING THEIR way through tight, chest-squeezing passages, Minard slid out of a hole and dropped several feet into a pool of murky liquid. His heart kicked at what his torch revealed. He stood in brackish brown water filled with bones.

  Raising his gun, he spun around. The air reeked of decay, and insects buzzed around him. Erinie emerged from the passage and splashed into the water beside him. When she saw what they were standing in, she lit a second torch off his to add to the light. They stood in a deep bowl-shaped hollow, its sides glistening with moisture. Minard took a step toward the edge and grimaced as bones crunched under his boots.

  "What is this?" he whispered, scanning the top of the hollow for danger.

  Erinie shook her head, her hand holding the torch visibly shaking.

  "Any guesses?" Minard wiped sweat from his forehead. "Should we go back?"

  Sanya emerged from the passage, using his vine-arms to pull himself free. He landed in the water and backed away from the torches, crunching bones with each step.

  Minard gritted his teeth. The flower-man was making enough noise to bring an army of the dead down on them.

  Erinie shuddered. "I don't think this is water. I think it's blood."

  "Blood?" Minard tightened his grip on the gun, suppressing the fear clawing its way into his thoughts. Fear would get him killed and make him look weak in front of Erinie.

  She walked to the edge of the bowl. "We need to climb out. My map said this was the only way to get back home." She studied him, as if expecting him to argue the point.

  Minard considered their options. They could go forward, deeper into the lair of some unknown horror and fight their way out. Or go back and face the jamalganas. Neither option appealed to him. But their food and torches were dwindling, and they were tired beyond belief.

  Going back was the wrong choice. "Fine, let's do this."

  He began to climb the side of the bowl, using the uneven rock for handholds. It was only around fifteen feet deep, so it didn't take him long to reach the top. He held the torch high and scanned the chamber. Bones were everywhere, and the half-eaten carcass of a huge green-skinned beast sprawled across the ground, its guts spilled out around it. The sight of maggots and flies all over it made his stomach churn.

  The carcass must have been where much of the stench filling the chamber came from. He could not tell what type of creature it had been, but it was large, with powerful limbs. He thanked Ibilirith it was dead. But what had killed it? Why had it been left here to rot?

  Erinie climbed up beside him, training her weapon on the carcass. She scrunched up her face and lowered her gun. "That thing looks as big as a full-grown aurtark. Stinks like one too."

  "Do you have any idea what it is?"

  "None. But it looks like it would have been quite the predator, judging by those claws."

  Minard glanced down as he heard a scratching sound below him. Sanya was climbing the side of the bowl, having no trouble making his way up.

  "Well, whatever killed this thing must be deadly." Minard saw an opening on the other side of the chamber. "So I think we get out of here as quickly as we can, in case it comes back to feed."

  They skirted the carcass, passing its huge, elongated head. From out of its broken teeth and rotting jaw drooped a long, pallid-gray tongue. Minard tried to imagine the beast in life, but could not comprehend such a monstrous creature ever being alive. How did it get here? How did it move around the caves?

  Its
fangs were half as big as he was. Ibilirith help them if they ran into whatever had slain it.

  They passed into another chamber, creeping as silently as they could, their torches held low to decrease the amount of light they gave off. Sanya followed them, the petals around his face curled up. Perhaps his way of showing fear. Minard stroked the barrel of his gun, heart racing, muscles tense.

  Holding weapons brought Minard comfort and allowed him to keep a lid on his fear. Erinie was brave too, her beautiful face as determined as ever, her gun held in one hand and the torch in the other.

  The silence of their journey through the stinking passage became unbearable. Sweat poured down Minard's face, his heart pounding in his ears. Something splattered on his bald scalp, and he almost shrieked in fear. Just water, you fool. Nothing to be afraid of.

  To keep his terror at bay, he began to recite the battle mantra of the warrior monks. I am the doors that protect her tomb. I am her servant for as long as she has need of me. I belong to Lady Ibilirith.

  They silently entered another chamber and Erinie stopped so suddenly, Minard walked into her. He didn't need to ask why she'd halted, for he could see it himself.

  Before them was a gallery of corpses hanging from the ceiling. Most belonged to unidentified beasts, but some were definitely human. Of the humans, a couple were dressed like the half-naked savages back at the village; others might have been Stelemian. The rank, cloying stench of rotting meat permeated the whole lair, but in this chamber, it had become a thick miasma that made Minard want to vomit.

  Bones littered the ground, many accumulating in a depression near the center of the chamber. Minard caught sight of movement. His blood went cold. A cluster of makeshift shelters stood across from them.

  Eyes glittered from inside their darkened doorways and windows. Then one of them blinked. A ghastly scream echoed off the rock around them, and the fear Minard had so far managed to suppress overwhelmed him.