Jacob dug his hands into his eyes, trying to relieve the pressure. He thumped his chest when it felt like his heart might have stopped beating. But he couldn’t tell anymore—he was too numb, physically. Emotionally, too.
The sun had barely risen when Jacob knew he couldn’t go much longer.
“Azuriah,” he gasped. “Help.”
Azuriah moaned, but didn’t answer.
“Azuriah.”
Again, the Shiengol groaned, but still didn’t awaken.
Jacob didn’t have the energy to talk again, so he resorted to tapping on the metal leg of his cot with his fingernails. Hopefully, that would be more irritating to the Shiengol.
He tapped and tapped.
It felt like years before Azuriah finally heard the sound.
“Would you stop that confounded clacking?”
Jacob gasped, trying to breathe. He couldn’t do anything more than whisper. “Can’t . . . go . . . on . . .”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Jacob heard the Shiengol get to his feet and cross the room. He started calling, speaking the Shiengol language. His voice echoed down the hallway, and Jacob allowed himself to relax as much as possible. Azuriah would take care of him. They’d be fine. Jacob would get off the planet in time to find Akeno.
At least he hoped so.
Jacob must have passed out, because the next thing he noticed were two voices—Azuriah’s and another.
He only understood one sentence: “Renforth will see you in an hour.”
“An hour?” Azuriah shouted. “That’s not good enough!”
Jacob groaned. He tried to open his eyes, but the world was spinning. He couldn’t see, couldn’t focus on anything. He passed out again.
When he came to, Azuriah was trying to pull him from the cot. “Help me,” Azuriah said.
At first, Jacob thought the Shiengol was talking to him, but then someone grabbed Jacob’s other arm and he realized what that meant—they were about to see Renforth.
Hopefully, it would be a fast visit.
Chapter Seven: A Cart Ride
Eachan grinned, feeling the wind blowing through his hair. It had been so long since he’d ridden on a horse-drawn cart! Never mind that he couldn’t really see where they were headed, as Sanso’s torch wasn’t bright enough to light the entire tunnel.
Eachan had asked why Sanso didn’t just use his own hands to light the way. The Ember God raised an eyebrow. “You want me to guide the horses and do that? You realize that anything I touch will be burned, correct?”
That made sense, and since Eachan didn’t have the strength to drive the cart himself, he dropped the matter.
Sanso had stolen six horses. The Lorkon wouldn’t notice right away, not with all their war preparations. They rarely used horses as it was, preferring to walk or ride those ridiculous Sindons.
Eachan held to the side of the cart, hoping the frame would hold his weight. He and Sanso had constructed it mostly in the dark of the tunnel, where the Lorkon wouldn’t see. They’d spent so much time down there, Eachan was surprised his eyes hadn’t changed color like those disgusting Molgs’. Many of them had white eyes from living underground and not seeing the sun enough.
After five minutes, Sanso led the horses up the slope at the other end of the tunnel. The sun hit the cart and Eachan had to cover his eyes. Sanso put out the torch, laying it carefully alongside him so they could use it again.
Now that they were out in the open, Sanso really let the horses run. Eachan got to his knees, wanting to enjoy his first cart ride in over twenty years. How he’d missed this!
“What are we to do about Ridgewood City?” Sanso asked as the first houses came into view.
“Just go through as fast as you can. We’ll take them by surprise.”
Sanso nodded and flicked the whip in the air above the horses.
They began going so fast, Eachan nearly vomited. He sat against the cart, closing his eyes and breathing deeply to combat the nausea.
Someone yelled at Sanso to stop. Eachan turned, wanting—no, needing—to see what happened.
Sanso flipped his whip at the man as they passed and the man jumped back, shouting at the intruders.
People poked their heads out of their doors in curiosity, but none of them were able to do anything to stop the cart. The horses were simply too fast.
Once Ridgewood faded in the distance, Sanso slowed the animals until they were walking. Then he stopped them completely and jumped down, stretching his legs and arms.
“We shouldn’t stay here,” Eachan said. “If Lirone comes, we’ll be killed for sure.”
Sanso snorted. “Lirone won’t be a problem.”
Eachan frowned, cocking his head. “And why not?”
“He’s no longer guarding the way. King Dmitri and his creatures—I forget what they’re called—rid the land of the sky god.”
Eachan only stared at Sanso, his mouth hanging open. He realized he probably looked stupid but didn’t care.
Sanso laughed. “Why do you look at me like that?”
“It’s impossible to get rid of Lirone. How did they do it?”
“I wasn’t here when it actually happened—I was attempting to die in your town hall when they did it. But when they first tried, those creatures stared at the sun, then directed their glowing gazes at the sky god.”
Eachan had never heard of such a thing, and it took him a moment to realize Sanso must be referring to the Shiengols. He didn’t say anything more about it, and soon, Sanso decided the horses had rested enough. Then they were on their way again.
Eachan watched the buildings of Macaria grow larger and larger as he and the Ember God got closer to the city. He clutched the empty pill bottle in his hand—he’d put the rest of the pills on the counter in his town hall. This bottle was the only spill-proof container he had.
That was a necessary part of the plan.
Aloren would need to be thanked again for bringing the medication to Eachan. Their container was turning out to be really quite handy. Also, if it weren’t for the medication, Eachan wouldn’t have even been able to accompany Sanso on this quest.
Eachan directed Sanso to the castle. They tethered the horses and left the cart. No one would disturb it, since apparently, the city was empty.
It took a moment for Eachan to remember which doors led to the tunnels, but as soon as he’d found one, he had Sanso light the torch. They descended the stairs.
They had to walk the tunnel for several minutes before arriving at the first puddle.
“Where is the bottle? I’ll gather the water.”
Eachan shook his head. “We have to test it first.”
“How?”
Eachan smiled, pulling a burlap sack with rats in it from his robes. “Take one out and put the water on it. If an Eetu fish arrives and destroys it, we’ll know the water is inhabited.”
Sanso took the bag. He opened it and grinned. He grabbed one of the rats by the tail and held it up.
“Here, use this,” Eachan said, handing the Ember God a spoon.
Sanso scooped some water from the puddle and was about to pour some on the rat when Eachan stopped him.
“Stand back. If any of the water splashes on you, you will also be in danger.”
Sanso nodded. He held the rat out, then carefully poured water on the creature before setting it down.
Then he and Eachan backed up and waited.
Nothing happened. The rat disappeared down the tunnel.
“Let’s continue to the next patch.”
Pretty soon, the two men found another puddle, this one much larger than the first.
“This looks promising,” Sanso said.
“Yes, it does.”
They repeated the process—Sanso pulling a rat out of the bag, then carefully pouring water on it.
He set the rat down.
No sooner had the rat received its freedom than an Eetu fish, one of the largest Eachan had ever seen, erupted from the water
and swallowed the rat whole.
Sanso jumped backward.
The Eetu turned and stared at him. It took a step forward, and Sanso’s hands and feet started to glow.
Eachan put a hand on the Ember God’s shoulder. “Let it be,” he whispered. “They feed at night, not during the day. And your fire won’t protect you from the creature.”
“But it just ate the rat!”
“Because the water touched it. If you don’t touch the water, it won’t eat you.”
Sanso was trembling. He’d never seen one of the fish before, so Eachan understood his fear.
“Relax, Sanso, relax.”
Sanso shook his head. Fire trickled up his arm, and Eachan had to pull back to keep from being burned.
“It’s going to attack. It’s going to attack.”
“No, it’s not. We’ll be fine.”
The Eetu took a step closer.
“How can you know?” Sanso asked, his voice cracking. Flames were bursting from his feet now.
“Because I know Eetu fish. Stop your fire—it won’t harm the fish.”
Sanso didn’t extinguish his flames, but he did lower his hands. “Why not?”
The Eetu came closer and sniffed Sanso. Eachan was surprised the Ember God didn’t lash out.
If he could just get Sanso to calm down, the fish would forget them. “Eetu fish are magical. Almost nothing can harm them. Sanso, if you don’t relax, you’ll put us in actual danger. The fish is just curious right now. We’re not a threat. But as soon as it notices you’re challenging it, he’ll attack.”
Sanso trembled, clenching and unclenching his hands. Finally, he loosened his stance, stopped staring at the fish, and looked at the ground.
“That’s it,” Eachan said.
The fish stepped past Sanso and crawled around Eachan, sniffing him as well. This really was the biggest Eetu fish he’d ever seen. It was well over twelve feet in length, and when standing on all four fins, it was almost five feet tall. Incredible.
Eachan kept his eyes lowered, but he couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face. Surely this fish could kill a Lorkon!
Without warning, the Eetu snarled and lunged past the men, jumping back into the water.
A huge gush of wind exited Sanso’s lungs and he fell to the cave floor, head in his hands. “I thought we were dead,” he murmured. “I thought we were dead.”
Eachan leaned against the tunnel wall. “It was close there. But you were fantastic.” He felt like he was talking to a little boy.
Sanso also leaned against the wall, though he stayed in sitting position. “Tell me more about these creatures.”
“They’re natives of this lake. They live in the bottom where no one has ever gone. At nighttime, they rise to the surface to feed. If we’d come down in the evening, we surely would’ve been killed.”
Sanso nodded and rubbed his face. He didn’t say anything, though, so Eachan continued.
“They destroy whatever their water touches, but it has to be within twenty-four hours, else they lose the scent.”
“So we’re putting the water on one of the Lorkon?”
“That’s the plan. You saw how huge that thing was. In a fight against one of them, a Lorkon wouldn’t have a hope.”
Sanso nodded. “I want out of this tunnel. What do we do now?”
“Here,” Eachan said, handing Sanso the spoon. He dug out the bottle. “We’ll fill the bottle halfway. We don’t want to have to get more water if we spill any.”
Sanso jerked around, looking at Eachan. “If we spill any? I thought your container would prevent that.”
Eachan held up his hands. “It will, but we must be very careful, even with the bottle.” He opened it and set it down. “If you spill on the ground, we should be okay. Just don’t spill it on the outside of the container itself.”
Sanso raised an eyebrow and stared at Eachan. “I’ll do my best, sir.”
Eachan rolled his eyes. “Let’s hurry.”
Sanso wiggled into what must have been a comfortable position, then put the bottle next to the puddle. He scooped out first one spoonful, then another, pouring them carefully in the container. “I feel like that fish is watching, waiting.”
Eachan grinned. “It probably is.”
Sanso froze. “You’re serious?”
“Of course.”
“Thanks. That makes me feel great.”
Eachan motioned for him to continue. A couple seconds later, the container was half full. Eachan carefully replaced the lid, then tucked the bottle inside a pocket in his robes. They returned to the cart, Eachan supporting the pocket with his hand. He realized that if the bottle tipped upside down and any water got on him, he’d get eaten quickly. Within minutes.
At least it wouldn’t be a terribly painful death. Eetu fish didn’t play with their food.
Chapter Eight: Volunteer
The pain from being dragged from the cell back to Renforth’s throne room was enough to make Jacob want to throw up. And maybe he did—he couldn’t tell. But it did make him alert again, all though he could barely control what he looked at and where he turned his head.
“Master Renforth,” Doulers said, “Lord Azuriah and . . .” Doulers looked at Jacob with an eyebrow raised.
“Jacob,” Azuriah said.
“He doesn’t use his Eklaron name?” Doulers whispered.
“He wasn’t raised with it—they hid him as a child, only calling him Jacob.”
“Very well.” Doulers looked back to Renforth. “Lord Azuriah and . . . Jacob . . . approach your throne with the request that you speak with them.”
Jacob tried to focus on Renforth, but the only thing he could see was the vast amount of food on the table in front of him. Jacob’s stomach turned.
“Very well.” Renforth got to his feet and paced. “What do you want this time, Azuriah?”
Azuriah explained the situation with the Lorkon, occasionally shifting Jacob’s weight. Jacob was glad the Shiengol didn’t make him try to stand on his own.
Just as Azuriah finished his explanation and request, Renforth, who had sat again, pointed. “What is wrong with the boy?”
“His magic wanes. He must return home immediately.”
Renforth didn’t seem to care, and just then, Jacob lost consciousness again. He drifted in and out of awareness, vaguely recognizing that Azuriah and Renforth were negotiating. Please, oh, please hurry!
He heard at least two of the things that Renforth discussed: Jacob as a slave, or permanent ownership over Gevkan. Azuriah immediately said no to both things.
What they eventually settled on, Jacob didn’t hear. In fact, he wasn’t even aware he and Azuriah had left the palace. He woke up next to a wall of mud where Gallus was sitting, surrounded by books and food.
Gallus jumped to his feet. “What happened?” He put his hand under Jacob’s chin and looked him in the eye. “Who struck him?”
“Never mind. We must get him back to Eklaron immediately, else he will die. Help me pull him through the link.”
Gallus nodded.
Jacob felt the mud cover his body. The random thought that the last mud had barely dried flicked across his mind. But the pain in his chest was too great for him to really care.
Azuriah and Gallus laid Jacob down at the side of the pit back on Eklaron. Azuriah wiped the gunk out of Jacob’s eyes. “Go. Now. You’ll experience a bit of relief as soon as you get to Onyev’s time, but it will be short-lived. Don’t waste time returning.”
Jacob blinked twice to show he understood, then took the necessary steps to go back. He’d been thinking about doing it so much that actually getting there wasn’t difficult.
He ended up on his feet just outside the patriarch’s door. He gasped when something in his chest released and a large portion of the pain momentarily dissipated. He pushed his way into Onyev’s throne room—so different from Renforth’s.
Akeno was there, pacing, waiting. He turned at the sound of the door and rushed to J
acob. “I was so worried!” He stared. “You’re filthy.”
But the pain was returning, and Jacob could only shake his head. He grabbed Akeno’s hand and, without saying anything to Onyev, who sat on a bench, watching, returned to the present. He fell to the ground, gasping, not sure if Akeno fell with him. He could only concentrate on his pain. It felt like his heart stopped beating. But Azuriah was there, hitting Jacob on the chest, shaking him.
Warmth rushed from his chest through his whole body and he coughed, drawing in the much-needed air. And then, the pressure and pain left. His entire body, muscle by muscle, relaxed. Unable to stay awake or even move, Jacob closed his eyes and fell asleep.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he finally woke up. He couldn’t see the sun, but that didn’t mean anything. They were still at the bottom of the pit where the light didn’t reach. He felt the others waiting for him, and not wanting to hold them up any longer, Jacob rolled to a sitting position.
“Jacob!” Akeno said, dropping to Jacob’s side. “You’re awake. Oh, thank goodness! I don’t think I could stand another minute down here.” He hesitated. “And of course I’m happy you seem to be doing better.”
Jacob chuckled, rubbing his grimy hair. “Had to tack that on so I wouldn’t feel bad, huh?”
“Sorry.” Akeno lowered his face, his smile barely visible. “But it’s awful here, and Azuriah said it would be too dangerous to try to get you out while you were unconscious.”
Jacob nodded. “Yeah, those steps are bad.” He got to his feet, shaking his head, trying to clear it. “How long was I out?”
“Only a couple of hours. Do you feel better?”
“Yeah, but I need more sleep.”
“You’ll get it when we’re home,” Azuriah said, approaching. “It’s time to go.”
Jacob nodded again. “I’m ready.”
They started up the stairs. Jacob was worried about Akeno—being much shorter than the others, it was more difficult for him to climb the steps. But he seemed to be fine.
The Golden Symbol (Kilenya Series Book 6) Page 9