The Reminiscent Exile Series, Books 1-3: Distant Star, Broken Quill, Knight Fall

by Joe Ducie

  “Why did you hide the Roseblade here, Emily?” Sophie asked.

  Emily removed her hand from my neck and stepped through the portal. Her sandals clicked on hardwood floors in one step, and sunk into yielding grass in the next. She turned to face us, standing an entire world away in just a few feet. “Who, save the creation’s most mad, would dare come looking in these ruins?”

  “It needed hiding,” I said. “Although Voraskel… Broken quill, anywhere but here. How far do we have to travel?”

  “Through the old forests on the other side of the city.” Emily gestured over her shoulder at the crooked splendor of two dying worlds on the very edge of crashing together. “An enchanted forest, naturally. One of the oldest in all existence. I hid the Roseblade in the Tomb of the Sleeping Goddess.”

  Chapter Nine

  ‘Ware the Everlasting

  The Sleeping Goddess. Fair Astoria. One of the Everlasting. Another of the blasted Nine.

  I was never one to put much faith in fate or destiny, but if Emily was telling the truth—and, indeed, she had never lied to me—I could almost feel another gigantic piece of some predestined puzzle locking into place. It weighed around my neck like shackles of heavy rusted cast iron.

  If the game was already decided, the moves already determined, then nothing I could do would prevent the inevitable Everlasting war.

  Which, if you’re being honest, Hale—can we be that, you and I, just this once?—you want to fight such a war, to throw your immense skill and sheer dumb luck against the might of the Elder Gods. The voice in my head sounded a lot like my half-brother and king of the Knights Infernal, Jon Faraday.

  “Be quiet, you bastard…” I muttered.

  Sophie gave me a strange look, a single pale eyebrow raised in question. We had passed through the portal back in the bookshop just a minute ago and we now strolled along a path of broken cobblestone down the hill toward the ruins of the Renegade city. Next to her, Ethan carried the hefty pack, playing with the silver shotgun I’d offloaded on him as soon as we’d cleared the portal. The sun overhead felt warm with the breeze, but overshadowed by the cracked sphere of Avalon dominating half the damned sky. Night would fall early, once the sun disappeared behind that… beautiful horror.

  Emily strolled just ahead of our little group, cleaning the blood from her white dress through Willful means. The blue shawl around her shoulders trailed in the breeze. Long curls of her red hair fell in gentle waves down her back and I thought, not for the first time, that she was beautiful—regal. An Immortal Queen.

  As if reading my thoughts, Emily turned and pierced me with her sapphire eyes. Curse all women and their knowing stares... The persistent memory danced through my mind of Emily dressed in sheer red, face hidden behind a white porcelain mask in the grand entrance hall of the Fae Palace, her lips pressed against mine as she slipped a dagger between my ribs, harvesting my blood to travel the path to Atlantis.

  That had been one hell of a kiss.

  “Penny for your thoughts, Declan,” she said.

  I cleared my throat. “The Sleeping Goddess. Fair Astoria… she’s dead, and her tomb is here on Voraskel?”

  Emily sighed and gazed out at the vista we commanded from the hill leading down toward the city. From the white ruins of the fallen city, to the blight of Avalon in the sky, across acres of what would have been farmland years ago before the Fall of Voraskel, and finally into the distance beyond the city—under the vast shadow of the planet-sky. A large swath of forest disappeared over the horizon, spreading north to south and creeping up the sides of distant, snow-capped mountains.

  “This world holds a great many secrets,” she said. “She’s one of the oldest in the Story Thread, you know. Her true age is lost to time, in eras and empires that do not even exist as half-remembered scraps or myth… A great many of those secrets will burn when the fall of Avalon tears this world apart.”

  “One of the Everlasting is dead,” Ethan said, panting under the weight of the pack. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

  Emily ignored him and strolled on ahead. Sophie shrugged and glanced at me, perhaps wanting an answer. I was, when all was said and done, the Knightly expert on the Everlasting—having met two and blinded one—and I was inclined to agree with Ethan.

  “We’ll have a chat about the Everlasting over something to eat,” I said. “Before you and ’Phie disappear to Ascension.”

  Journeying across other worlds could be somewhat disorientating with the time difference. On Voraskel, it was early afternoon, as best I could tell, which meant we’d skipped breakfast. Just ahead, alongside the meandering cobblestone path down the hill toward the city, were some fallen stone pillars that would make fine picnic tables for lunch. Also a fine spot to have a chat and send Sophie and Ethan on their mission. In unspoken agreement, we trekked off path to those stones.

  The slabs of fallen stone were warm to the touch. Emily leaned casually against one, hands around her unborn baby, as Ethan unshouldered the pack with a grunt and set about raiding the provisions within it for a spot of lunch. A small stream of crystal-clear water, just a few feet across, bubbled on the far side of the fallen pillars away from the path and trickled down the hill in little waterfalls. Sophie kicked off her shoes and dipped her toes into the water, humming softly to herself, before pulling herself up onto one of the pillars and basking in the sun, as Ethan prepared a plate of food.

  Lunch was a near-silent affair and comprised of red apples, almonds, some ham that needed to be eaten before the heat spoiled it, and jellybeans. The last I had taken a particular liking to, back on True Earth. The butternut and watermelon beans were like a drug. My larder was stocked with enough of the tiny sweets to wait out the next two or three end-of-the-world adventures. Damn, but it’s good to be back on the road…

  I was always and ever at my best when I was working against a clock. During my exile, I’d felt a lethargy and a sense of becoming obsolete. The feelings had been a cancer on my soul, making me miserable and, slowly but surely, had sent me seeking happiness at the bottom of a bottle.

  Five long years of searching bottles, and I hadn’t found a scrap of happy, only a numb sort of indifference that had gotten me killed.

  “So we’ve been hearing about those Everlasting a lot,” Ethan said to me, drinking stream water from a plastic cup he’d retrieved from the pack, “but in only bits and pieces, mate. There are nine of them, yeah?”

  “Always nine,” Emily said, stroking her baby bump. “Never fewer, and never more.”

  “Scion,” Ethan said. “That’s one.”

  Sophie, resting on her side on top of one of the smooth warm pillars, said, “Oblivion, with eyes of blood—that’s two. There are seven more. We’re taught all about them at the Infernal Academy, growing up, but no one ever thought they were real. Or at least, if they ever had been, they were believed long dead.”

  “Not dead. Imprisoned by the Willful of Atlantis ten thousand bloody years ago,” I said. “I broke the lock on that prison, apparently, when Oblivion tricked me into severing the Infernal Clock in Atlantis earlier this year. My bad, I know, but it was the only way to end the Degradation and restore life to the Story Thread… You all know that part.”

  “Severing the Clock allowed Scion to reach across the Dream Worlds and force you to retrieve Myth,” Emily said. “But there are layers to the prison of the Everlasting, Declan. Severing the Clock, while vital, did not release them all—at least, not all at once. Imagine they’ve been released from their cells to find that the Knights of old, of Atlantis, are no longer guarding the prison. They still need to navigate through barbed fences, among other layers, to escape.”

  “And make a play for True Earth,” I surmised, given Scion’s intentions a few months ago. “How do you know that, Em?”

  She flashed me a secretive smile I knew all too well, a smile that suggested I should have figured her out long ago. “I have lived a very long life.”

  “So Oblivion was hiding
in the ruins of Atlantis, yeah?” Ethan asked with a frown. He joined Sophie on her pillar as she sat up and took his hand. “Scion was in the Dream Worlds—which I’m going to need to know more about at some point, boss—and the other seven?”

  “Locked away in corners of Forget that were, well, forgotten,” Emily said. “The Knights all those millennia ago made sure of that. Scion was sent to the Dream Worlds because they were inaccessible—but no longer, with the loss of the Infernal Clock, as Declan and Annie Brie can confirm all too well. Oblivion was shackled to Atlantis, to the Clock itself, and the city was cast back into a pocket of faux time until Declan discovered it in his youth. Always trouble, weren’t you?” She gave a small chuckle. “And set this ancient game in motion once again. War is coming, perhaps the last war of this age, and this time there are no Knights worthy of the title to stand against the Everlasting.”

  “There are thousands of Knights Infernal…” I muttered, but my mind was troubled—and my heart felt sick. Too many jellybeans.

  Emily rolled her eyes, not unkindly. “In Atlantis, where the Order of the Knights Infernal was born, they could work legends and miracles with Origin—with what you now call Will. They created the Infernal Clock, the Roseblades, and other weapons of celestial illusion. Today’s Knights are less than a pale shadow of their former glory. A bonfire diminished to embers. None of the Order could wield Origin with enough conviction to even blemish the Everlasting.” She grinned and gave me a wink. “Well, save perhaps one shadowless fool.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling a chill despite the warmth of the day.

  Ethan pulled Sophie close. They both looked troubled—no, more than troubled. Afraid. “What are the rest of their names?” he asked.

  Sophie sighed and sat up straight. “They each have two names… or titles, I suppose. I’ve never thought on it much, but their names and titles sort of reflect who and what they are, you ken? There’s a rhyme…” She cleared her throat and recited a poem most children in Ascension City and all across Forget knew before they were three.

  ’Ware the Nine Forgetful Tomes

  Storied names carved of old bone.

  For the Nine see you as clear rose-light

  Etched to stand against their blight.

  Bitter Child craves his father’s throne,

  Yet Younger Scion sits all alone.

  Dark travesty surrounds the Age Flood,

  Lord Oblivion drowned in fire and blood.

  The Sleeping Goddess can never forget

  Fair Astoria, lost in time’s tangled net.

  Mind the snare of the Nightmare Sea—

  Madness, the realm of Iced Banshee.

  Distant threads tie the Ancient Bane

  Pained Hail and his forever game.

  Hear the wrath of the Marked Fear—

  Harbinger Chronos is drawn near.

  Starless paths through the Lost Sight

  Dread Ash turns cold day to night.

  Watch Fated Legion be destroyed

  Scarred Axis fears the rampant Void.

  The World-Eater, last in shadow’s husk

  The Never-Was King—Lord Hallowed Dusk.

  So ’ware the Nine Forgetful Tomes

  ’Ware the Elder Gods from your home

  Ageless, hateful, dull blight-flame—

  The Everlasting know your name.

  Sophie’s voice faded away, and the world felt a whole lot darker. Even Emily’s face had lost some of its timeless grace. Her eyes were far away.

  “Well, they’re certainly not a cheery bunch, are they?” Ethan said, trying to sound upbeat and failing. “Blimey, and they’re all loose now?”

  “Well on their way.” Emily sighed. “As you two should be, so Declan and I can hurry and retrieve the Roseblade before Oblivion does—which he will undoubtedly use to free his siblings.”

  “Right,” I said and then blinked a few times. I had to force myself into action. Scion… Oblivion… Astoria… Banshee… Hail… Chronos… Ash… Axis… Dusk… And Myth, forged in Atlantia for the Nine to slay. Forged for me, damn it all. “Get me the pen and paper from the pack, and I’ll write the both of you up for Ascension City.”

  The letter only took five minutes and afforded Sophie and Ethan my protection as a Guardian of the Knights Infernal. Once I had held the rank of Arbiter—the highest honor of the Order—but that had been stripped from me in exile. Honestly, I still thought of myself as an Arbiter, and I was sure most of the Knights—and my brother the king—also thought that way. Hard to take something like that, well earned in fighting during the Tome Wars. Still, Guardianship was enough to bestow the rite of passage and protection upon Sophie and Ethan from—and against—the Knights Infernal.

  I signed my name and ignited just the tip of my index finger with a point of thin light, no wider than a pinhead. Will-light flowed through the door in my mind that tapped the raw power in the heart of creation. With that finger, I inscribed three glowing Infernal runes onto the page, making the document somewhat official.

  “Now doesn’t that look pretty?” I folded the page in half.

  Sophie took the letter from me and glanced at Myth, tucked under my belt and resting alongside my leg.

  “Any particular place you want to step out on the other side?” I asked, as she and Ethan stood and moved behind me. He left the pack and the shotgun on the fallen pillar for me and Emily.

  “Maybe Aaron’s shop?” Sophie asked. “Or his villa? I don’t know what time it is in Ascension, but if we could have a chat to him first, see what’s going on with the Historian before we storm the palace, I’d feel a lot better about all this.”

  I nodded. “Good call. The villa, then? I think I can picture it clearly enough to cut a path.” I bit my tongue and frowned, concentrating as I unsheathed Myth—careful not to cut my belt in half—and found a point in the air to tear asunder.

  Myth caught, as the dagger always did, and I drew the curtains back on Lake Delgado at sunset. Small, speedy craft darted along the lake from our view on the balcony of Aaron’s villa. In the distance, I could see the forest city of Farvale, nestled into the mountains. Ascension City was a smooth half hour’s journey from the villa by shuttle.

  “End of the day,” I said. “If Aaron’s not home yet, he will be soon. We got lucky.”

  Sophie wrapped her arms around me, giving me a quick but firm hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Take care, you hear?” She stepped in front of the gateway to Lake Delgado, and the smooth, glowing edges of the portal framed her auburn hair like a halo. “And if you see… Oblivion. Well, if you…”

  “I’ll be kind,” I whispered.

  Sophie nodded and stepped back through the gateway. Her feet left the soft, grassy earth and clipped the wooden decking of Aaron’s villa yet another world away.

  “Stay out of trouble, boss.” Ethan shook my hand. He offered Emily a quick smile and then followed Sophie across worlds—just doing what I’ve always done, really, by chasing the pretty girl.

  Chapter Ten

  Warming Up

  A few Willful enchantments somewhat lessened the weight of the pack as Emily and I continued our trek down toward the city. I’d have to teach Ethan that trick, eventually. He was a good kid—powerful, even talented—but often lazy. Time would tell if he would ever push himself to learn a touch of finesse when it came to Will, as I could only carry him so far.

  Emily and I soon stood on the outskirts of the city, amidst the ruins of cracked stone buildings and fallen aqueducts. Closer to the heart of the city, the buildings I could see from our vantage point became progressively more modern—even a few skyscrapers graced the inner blocks. Vines and weed grass had broken through the cobblestoned streets. Only six years—just over six years—had passed since the Fall of Voraskel, but nature had well and truly reclaimed the city.

  Voraskel was a pretty world, lush and green. A shame that the entire planet was destined to be torn apart in the near future.

  For an abandoned,
doomed world, I felt an awful lot of unseen eyes watching from the shadows.

  I held the silver shotgun, barrel pointed away from Emily toward the road, and double-checked that it was loaded with some of the special shells. Call it a sixth sense, a kind of intuition honed and sharpened over the long years of my short life, but a stirring in my gut spelled trouble ahead. I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were walking into a trap—perhaps not meant for us, but a trap just the same.

  “There’s no one living here, is there?” I asked. Even the sound of our footfalls seemed to echo for miles through the forsaken ruin. “The planet was evacuated. The Renegades abandoned it.”

  “None would dare stay,” Emily said. “The Void presses too close against this world, since the flood.”

  I nodded slowly. “Still, let’s be quick about our business. What’s the best way to the Tomb from here?”

  “The fastest road to the forest is through the city’s eastern quarter.” Emily pointed at two dilapidated skyscrapers—one half-slumped against another and supporting a wrecked Eternity-class starship, fallen during the final battle. Faint light still shone from the crystal cores in the massive engines of the ship. It would take decades for the energy to bleed from the core, and even then, the damn thing was still liable to explode at any minute.

  “If we can find a path through the chaos, that is,” Emily added. “Perhaps over the Narrow Bridge, if it’s still in one piece.”

  It was definitely too quiet, here in the ruins of Voraskel and under a planet-devastated sky. The sun would soon disappear behind Avalon, leaving us maybe an hour or two of daylight at most. My palm was sweating on the stock of the shotgun. “What say we backtrack and walk around? Avoid the city altogether? If I knew what this Tomb of the Sleeping Goddess looked like, I could see about using Myth to make us a shortcut.”

  Emily gestured to the far side of the city, beyond the skyscrapers and the crashed starship. “Could you cut a path over there? Would the Creation Knife work like that? Cut a path from one point to another on the same world?”