Dawnbringer
Page 1
Contents
Dawnbringer
Front Matter
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Epilogue
Author's Note
Also by Gregory Mattix
Acknowledgments
About the Author
DAWNBRINGER
NEXUS OF THE PLANES
BOOK 3
GREGORY MATTIX
Dawnbringer
Copyright © 2016 by Gregory Mattix
Cover art by dleoblack
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book.
This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and events are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or deceased, business establishments, events, locales is entirely coincidental.
Chapter 1
Nesnys languished on her cracked onyx throne as the damned souls groveled before her. She idly flicked Willbreaker at the nearest. The lash flayed the man’s back, laying open flesh and revealing the knobbed bones of his spine. He wailed pitifully, but his cries didn’t have the effect she was hoping for.
“I tire of these. Bring me fresh meat, Zepmipuhr,” she ordered one of her servants.
The hunched demon bowed low and hastily scrambled away to comply, eager to avoid the sting of her lash.
She gracefully sprang from the throne, unfurling her wings and gliding a short distance, where she landed atop the wailing soul. The spiked heel of her boot pierced the back of the man’s skull with a sharp crack. She reached down and hooked one of her sharp talons beneath his shoulder blade, easily lifting the shuddering soul to her mouth. Her jaw unhinged, and she fit the unresisting man’s neck into her maw and tore his throat open. Thick blood sprayed over her face and naked breasts, warm and sticky. She drank deeply and threw the empty husk away. The damned soul’s incorporeal flesh would regenerate anew the next day, but for the time, he was as much at peace as one could be in the Abyss.
Nesnys’s heels rang on the cracked flagstones as she strode past her groveling subjects. She hungered for fresh mortal flesh, the salty taste of still-warm blood drained from a living being. She could almost taste the sustenance running down her throat and warming her belly even as the mortal’s heartbeat slowed and stopped while in her grasp.
“Two millennia since last I tasted the flesh of living mortals.” She gazed out the window of her citadel and across the blasted wasteland of Achronia, the level of the Abyss her father ruled. Distant volcanoes spewed clouds of smoke and ash into the air, and lightning cracked in the plumes.
The fact that she possessed her own citadel and demesne, no matter how small or decrepit, was testament to her ruthlessness and lust for power. The only thing Nesnys wanted more than crushing her enemies and ruling over them in the Abyss was to do the same free of the Abyss, perhaps on one of the Prime planes.
The damned souls she tormented were incorporeal, mere shadows of the living beings they had been, and unsatisfying in their taste and sustenance. The last time Nesnys had preyed on mortals, she was a commander of her father’s legions during the Planar War.
But that would soon change, for plans were in motion to once again unleash the hordes across the multiverse. She dug her talons into the stone windowsill, cracking it and breaking off a piece, but she barely noticed. Already, she could picture the glory as she marched at the head of a legion.
Patience. I’ve waited millennia. Surely, a few more months or years will make no difference.
Zepmipuhr returned, his sharp claws prodding another damned soul forward. This one was a hulking brute of a man, face scarred and missing an eye. His mouth drooped on one side from the scar, which ran from brow to chin.
Nesnys studied him a moment. “Hearty yet very ugly. This won’t do at all.”
She raised Willbreaker, and a flick of the wrist sent the lash arcing around the brute’s thick neck. He grunted in surprise then let out a screech of terror, which was cut off when she tightened the lash. His lone eye bulged in terror.
Nesnys pulled, and Willbreaker tightened, its sharp laksaar teeth slicing into the soft flesh. With a sharp wrench, the lash tore through the brute’s neck and removed his head in a bloody mess. Before the head could hit the ground, she snapped the whip again, sending the head flying straight into Zepmipuhr’s face. The startled demon managed to catch it and stood looking stupidly at her, awaiting his punishment.
“Leave me at once. All of you,” she ordered.
Zepmipuhr fled the room, likely relieved she was not in the mood to punish him that day. The damned scrambled to their feet and made their way out of her inner sanctum as well, leaving her alone with the two corpses.
“I tire of this existence. Would that I could find a new source of amusement for once.”
“That can be arranged,” a deep voice boomed behind her.
Nesnys’s back stiffened in surprise at her father’s sudden appearance in her stronghold. She whirled and dipped down to a graceful bow. “Father. To what do I owe this honor?”
The Lord of Achronia regarded the corpses on the floor in amusement. He wore the aspect of an armored warrior, garbed in dull black plate armor. “Is your elevation to my right hand not enough to please you?”
“Of course, Father,” Nesnys replied quickly. “It is simply that I desire to be free of the Abyss to conquer and slay our enemies once again, to bring glory upon you and almighty Shaol.”
Her father’s plate armor suddenly rippled, and pieces floated free as he held out his arms. The pieces of metal reformed behind him and took the shape of a throne. He straightened the ornate crimson robes he wore beneath and sat upon the metal throne, facing the onyx one she had recently vacated.
“Sit. We have much to discuss.” He gestured to her throne.
Nesnys bowed her head in respect again, surprised to be given the honor of sitting as an equal. Her father had not allowed her such an honor in centuries. But this day, his mood seemed much improved. She slid into the throne across from him. Although she was quite tall, while both were seated, her father yet towered over her.
“Vraqiroth has succeeded in bringing the Nexus of the Planes to its knees. He served me well, and his sacrifice pleases me.”
Nesnys’s breath caught in her chest. She hated the demon and had felt slighted her father hadn’t entrusted the fiend’s mission to her, yet trapped in the Abyss as she was, she hadn’t the freedom to act as Vraqiroth had. “Truly? Will the Abyss be unsealed? We will again be able to ravage the planes?” She hadn’t noticed if Vraqiroth had returned to the Abyss.
“
Patience, Daughter. All is progressing according to plan. I shall require a new agent—Vraqiroth was destroyed utterly.”
Nesnys raised an eyebrow. Only one of great power could truly destroy a demon outright. When their corporeal forms were slain on other planes, they typically respawned back in the Abyss.
“The Lord of Nexus must have been displeased upon discovering your plans,” she said with a vicious smile at the death of her rival. That carrion maggot is destroyed!
“’Twas the Lord of Light’s meddling agents responsible for Vraqiroth’s destruction.” He waved a dismissive hand. “They are of little concern. I do not intend to remain here for much longer—I would have you by my side, commanding my legions once more.”
“I am honored to serve, Father,” she replied instantly.
“Good. Then let us make some preparations. Soon, the instrument of our victory will arrive. I would have you see them safely delivered to me.”
“Of course. Whom am I to await?”
“A group of mortals.” He smiled at her surprised look. “I know not how many will survive the journey, nor do I care, but you will see no harm comes to them once they enter Achronia.”
“And after they are delivered?”
“Do with them as you will. Sate your taste for blood until you lead the legions forth.”
Nesnys smiled at the thought of mortal blood as an appetizer before her glorious campaign to conquer and slay truly began.
Chapter 2
Nera strolled through the trees, her footsteps making not a sound in the soft grass. Warm morning sunlight filtered through the thick canopy of leaves. A gray squirrel chittered overhead before leaping to the branch of a nearby tree and racing away. Ahead, a creek burbled softly as it filtered across large, smooth stones and into a clear pool. On the opposite side of the pool, the stream trickled out, forming a small waterfall before flowing away.
She knelt at the edge of the still water. It was cool to her fingers, not cold, although with her affinity for heat, immersing herself in it would doubtless feel quite chilly.
Once, she had been intimidated and uneasy being off plane. The rumbling Machine and noise and bustle of the streets of Nexus had always been comforting while the wide openness and strange sounds of the wilderness had not.
The expedition where I met Master Dagun changed all that. On that adventure, she had learned some tracking and woodland skills from one of Wyat’s trackers and had come to relish the fresh air, open sky, and peaceful, scenic vistas. What are the odds that I can find a quiet life somewhere like this?
For a few moments, she was able to put the weight of everyone’s expectations behind her. Somewhere at the center of the multiverse, the city of Nexus was likely burning, tearing itself apart in strife resulting from its isolation from trade, fresh food, water, and air. The gods and others sought to push her into a course of action to remedy the problems even though they weren’t of her making. A number of her own companions wished her to lead them into the bowels of the Abyss itself in a desperate quest to retrieve the legendary Engineer, who claimed to be her father.
Just a week past, Nera would have laughed off the madness being foisted upon her. She might have found it amusing that she suddenly found herself caring for the plight of others over her own skin, let alone that she had more or less accepted the crushing burden of duty she was feeling.
Even the previous day, she had despaired that she would die in the forgotten hell that was the Gray Lands, life drained from her until she was reduced to naught but a brittle skeleton. Above all odds, she had managed to find Malek, and they had survived, even defeating a mad lich. She had been shocked to find Arron—the real Arron, not a doppelgänger impostor—had survived their seemingly fatal encounter with the Magehunters. The reunion had been happy, although brief, and they had but a day to rest, recuperate, and make plans.
On the morrow, they would enter the Abyss.
Nera sighed. Her thoughts returned to the present, and she studied her reflection in the pool. Her features wouldn’t be out of place among those Abyss-dwellers they would soon encounter. Her eyes were rust-colored, oftentimes glowing like embers. Her unruly lavender hair fell to her shoulders, and bone-white horns covered in runes sprouted from her head.
I look like a beat-up muck-dweller from the Abyss, she decided. Although she was physically uninjured, the fatigue and stress from bearing the mantle of leadership were taking their toll.
She frowned upon studying her hated horns. A series of undecipherable runes was carved in each. Long before, she had given up her search for anyone who could translate them after the most recent sage had been baffled. Prior attempts had met with just as little luck, and she had once been swindled by a fraud. She bitterly wondered if the runes spelled out a curse that somehow relegated her to the path of madness she was treading.
Remembering the reason she had sought the pool, she set her towel down on a wide, smooth stone and stripped out of her clothes. She smiled as she remembered the small bar of soap Idrimel had loaned her—she had teased the priestess for being soft but was actually happy to have it. Wrinkling her nose at the blood and sweat soiling her clothes, she washed her leathers and smallclothes in the pool. After laying them out on a stone to dry, she waded into the cool water.
Goosebumps formed on her bronze skin as the chill struck her. Taking a deep breath, she immersed herself, ducking beneath the water. The pool was only neck deep on her, which was comforting. She could swim, which was unusual among Nexus natives, but she wasn’t very comfortable doing it.
While growing up, she had been challenged by other street urchins to jump into the Molten Canal. Never one to turn down a challenge, she had taken the dare and had promptly sunk to the bottom. Fortunately, Arron had fished her out. He then taught her the basics of swimming in a clean branch of the canal near its source, before it was polluted by the wastes of the Industrial District. A fond memory surfaced, of the great mill wheel near where they swam. She and Arron used to grasp onto the slimy vanes of the wheel and ride it to the summit, only to leap off into the water below.
Childhood memories… seem so long ago now.
Her body having adjusted to the pond’s chill temperature, she floated on her back for a time, looking up toward where the sun slowly climbed above the trees. They will be wanting to meet soon and discuss the journey.
Nera scrubbed herself with the soap and rinsed off. She dried off with the rough towel, shivering from the crisp air on her wet skin. She lay back on the sun-warmed stone and watched the clouds skirt by through the trees for a time. She smelled somewhat flowery from the soap, which wasn’t really her taste, but the scent was a vast improvement over stinking like battle.
Or the stink of decay from the Gray Lands. I imagine the lads won’t mind the improvement. One in particular was on her mind.
As if her thoughts had summoned him, the sound of footsteps moving through the woods reached her keen ears. Malek approached the creek, towel in hand, but didn’t see her yet. He looked half-starved and exhausted following his ordeal in the Gray Lands, despite having recharged his vitality with the Staff of Preservation. His face was covered in old blood, smears of dirt, and a scruffy growth of beard. She wrinkled her nose at his robes—they were torn, stained, and barely fit for a beggar.
“Pleasant morning, eh, luv?” She kept the thick linen towel wrapped around her and regarded the mage with a mischievous smile.
Malek’s head snapped up, startled, and he grinned sheepishly at her. “Oh, I didn’t see you there, Nera.”
“I wasn’t trying to hide.”
He shrugged. “I know. I’m half asleep… was going to go lie down again following breakfast, but the others were fairly insistent that I should get a bath beforehand.”
“Aye, not a bad idea.” Nera checked her clothes. Her smallclothes had dried, but the leathers were still damp. “Don’t let me keep you from it. I’ll turn my back.” And may not even sneak a peek.
Malek’s face reddened, but
the thought of the bath must’ve been too appealing. He removed his boots and disrobed then dove into the water with a splash before she could sneak a look. He bobbed up in the center of the pool, a smile on his face.
“This feels wonderful. I can’t remember how long since that hot bath back at the flat.”
“Too long, mageling.” She leaned back and watched Malek splash around a bit. “Is your home as scenic as this?”
“What? Oh, yes, Hollowbrook is much like this. Green farmlands, rolling hills, quiet country lanes. There’s also a nearby forest, streams and ponds. Bright-blue sky overhead. Gods, this feels so nice to have sunlight and fresh air again after Nexus and the Gray Lands.”
“Aye, that it does.” She summoned her courage and asked the question that had been on her mind since they had made plans to get off plane before the disastrous attempt to find Magellan. “Where will you go now?” She leaned on her side, watching him, cheek resting on her hand.
Malek swam up close to the rock she lay on. “You mean assuming we survive the Abyss?”
She nodded. “Right. Thinking optimistically, ya know?”
His face took on a thoughtful look. “I haven’t thought that far ahead yet. After Magellan was killed, events have moved so rapidly I haven’t allowed much time to think on it. Or even dared to hope it will come to pass. I suppose I’ll help you see matters through back in Nexus since I feel partly responsible for the chaos that’s been caused. After all is said and done, I will likely return to Tyndaria.” His eyes met hers. “And what of you?”
“What of me… That is a fair question. Endira’s master implied my path may not take a direction I like. I suppose, were everything to work out well, I’d still like to travel off plane a bit. I’ve come to enjoy the wilderness.” She gestured at the scene around them.
“Perhaps you would like to accompany me back to Tyndaria?”
“Truly? I think I’d like that… assuming we can still stand to be around each other after all is said and done.”