The Golden Symbol (Kilenya Series Book 6)

by Andrea Pearson

  For a while, neither gained on the other. Jacob tried hard to keep the grin off his face, but he failed. And it really bothered Isan.

  Isan started making foolish mistakes, in his anger and possibly even his inexperience at fighting as a Lorkon. They most likely didn’t spar much back in Maivoryl City. But if Jacob had been fighting Keitus, Jacob would’ve been dead already—he was sure of it.

  While circling, parrying, blocking, and attacking, Jacob became aware of the audience that had gathered. So did Isan.

  When enemy soldiers jumped to help the Lorkon, he shoved them away. Jacob used this to his advantage, getting in several strikes while Isan was distracted. It didn’t seem to be doing any good, though, and Jacob remembered that this was an immortal, super-strong being. How was he going to win?

  Multiple times, Isan tried to rely on the poisons in his skin to kill or maim Jacob. He grabbed Jacob’s arm over and over again.

  But because of the Lorkon blood flowing in Jacob’s veins, Isan’s touch had no power.

  Jacob laughed, panting. “You can try to infect me all you want, scum, and it won’t hurt me. Thank your father for that!”

  Isan growled and lunged, knocking Jacob down. The Lorkon pinned the pole to the earth and Jacob’s shield flickered, then died.

  “Not so brave now, are you?” Isan said.

  Jacob tried to turn his head away from the foul breath, but Isan grabbed his cheeks, forcing him to meet his eyes.

  “Father gave us permission to kill you the moment we found you.” He grinned. “In fact, I believe he’s more than—”

  Jacob heard a whoosh of air, then suddenly, everything around them was in flames. Isan screamed. His robes caught all of the fire, inadvertently protecting Jacob.

  The Lorkon jumped up, turning. Sanso stood there, flames dripping from his hands, the forest floor beneath him smoldering.

  “How dare you?” Isan whispered.

  Sanso shrugged, folding his arms, extinguishing his fire. His body language showed he didn’t seem to care, but Jacob knew the Ember God was furious. The red that surrounded him was very thick and bright.

  Sanso met eyes with Jacob, acting like he was trying to convey something, then looked to Isan, then back again to Jacob, eyebrows raised.

  Oh. The antidote.

  Jacob pulled a syringe from his pocket.

  “You and the other Lorkon have ordered me around enough.” Sanso watched as Isan tried to put out the flames in his robe.

  “I seem to remember orders for your death.”

  Sanso didn’t get the chance to respond. Jacob had the syringe uncapped, and while Isan was distracted, he plunged the thing into the Lorkon’s now-exposed back. The smell of charred robes and flesh surrounded him, but he hung on until every drop of the antidote had been injected.

  Isan swatted at his back, as if he were swatting a mosquito. Then his spine went rigid and he looked at Jacob. “What did you just do?”

  Jacob grinned, holding up the antidote. “You’re about to become human.”

  Isan’s eyes widened and he reached for Jacob, but his hand dropped. The change started taking place before he could do anything. He fell to the ground, convulsing. Pretty soon, his robes were too big. His skin was clear. He was Jacob’s height.

  Isan lay on the ground, breathing hard, his mouth open. He got to his hands and knees, then jumped to his feet with a lot more energy than he should have had.

  Jacob stumbled away. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting—maybe something like what had happened with Het? But Isan wasn’t injured. Not like Het had been. And the fight wasn’t over.

  Sanso jumped forward, swords in his hands. “Come, foul beast. Fight me. Leave the child alone.”

  Isan glared at the Ember God. “As you wish.” He grabbed his sword from where it had fallen and without hesitation, he attacked.

  The fight would be glorious. Jacob could tell that Sanso was enjoying it too much—his body probably ached for action like this. The Ember God wasn’t using his flames, only his swords, which meant he wanted to drag it out as long as he could.

  Jacob dropped to Gallus’s side. The man looked unconscious. Jacob touched his shoulder, avoiding staring at the wounds on his face. “Are you okay?”

  Gallus shook his head.

  The Fat Lady looked up from where she was wiping off Gallus’s arms. Jacob cringed. Isan had spread disease everywhere. “We need the other potion—to rid him of the Lorkon poison. We have to get it in him as soon as we can.”

  “Are there any leftovers?”

  She nodded. “Back in the cabin.”

  “Let’s go.” Jacob wasn’t really sorry to miss the fight—Gallus was more important.

  He Time-Saw, found the nearest door, and then he, Aldo, and the Fat Lady half carried, half dragged Gallus that way. It took them nearly twenty minutes to get through the link to the Fat Lady’s cabin. A few times, they had to pull Gallus over dead bodies, since there wasn’t any way around them. Jacob refused to look at anyone or anything, not wanting to throw up again. He concentrated instead on his friend.

  Once in the cabin, they laid Gallus on the couch, shoving books and papers out of the way.

  The Fat Lady turned to Jacob, putting a beefy hand on his shoulder. “Go. Make sure that maggot dies.”

  Jacob nodded, then ran back to where the fight had been taking place, wondering as he went how everyone else was doing. Dad. Aloren. Matt. Akeno. He took a deep breath—he was sure they were fine. He heard a horn blow farther in the forest. What was that about? He shrugged, figuring he’d find out later. Then he entered the little grove where the fight was just ending.

  Sanso had let his flames loose, and the leftover leaves from the previous fall crackled and smoldered around him.

  He didn’t torture Isan, however, which surprised Jacob. Instead, with two blows, he knocked Isan over, then beheaded the man.

  Jacob turned just as Isan’s head rolled away. He couldn’t believe what he’d witnessed today. So much death and destruction. It was so hard for him to take in—so hard to comprehend. He tasted bile in his mouth and gasped, breathing deeply, trying to get the bitter taste to go away.

  Sanso blew out a long breath, swords down. “Sorry about the fire,” he said. “I’ll put it out.”

  Jacob looked, grateful for the distraction. Not much had burned yet, thank goodness, and the Ember God extinguished it using his hands and feet—waving them above the flames, then patting everything down.

  After he finished, Sanso nodded to Jacob. “Thank you.” He turned and left, not looking back. Jacob didn’t need to Time-See to know the Ember God was heading for the link to the Fire Pulser world near August Fortress. He blew out a breath—Sanso had turned out to be a blessing in the end, but Jacob knew he really wouldn’t miss the man.

  The enemy soldiers waited to see what Jacob would do. He lifted his pole, molded the air into a shield, and motioned to them. “If the rest of you want to follow in Isan’s footsteps, by all means, attack. But if you’re more interested in helping me kill the other two Lorkon and joining Dmitri, the obviously stronger king, come with me.”

  With that, he spun, walking in the direction of his house. He had to find Dad. His heart ached as he walked past the bodies that littered the forest. He refused to look at any of them. Couldn’t show weakness.

  To his surprise, several of the soldiers followed. None of them said anything—they simply walked behind him, swords sheathed.

  It didn’t take long for them to reach the house, and as they traveled, Jacob was shocked at how few enemies were left. No one was fighting anymore. Was the war over? What had happened? Akeno’s attacks had taken out a lot of Keitus’s soldiers, but not twenty thousand of them. Maybe they’d all run off when they discovered their leader wasn’t as immune to death as he’d professed to be.

  Jacob found Matt in the backyard, helping carry injured people into the house. He dropped the Shiengol pole and ran to his brother, throwing his arms around him. He didn�
��t care who saw.

  Matt laughed. “Glad to see you alive too.”

  Dad came outside. “Jacob!” He dashed to his son and wrapped him in a one-armed bear hug. “We had no idea what happened to you—Matt said you ran off after one of the Lorkon.” He put a hand on Jacob’s shoulder, inspecting him. “Are you okay?”

  Jacob nodded. “Het and Isan are dead. Ferron and Keitus are at the tree, last I saw.” He looked around the yard. “How is everyone doing?” Then he saw that Dad’s arm was wrapped and Matt’s thigh and forearm were bandaged. “What happened?”

  Dad exhaled loudly. “It was really awful for a while there. I didn’t think any of us would survive.”

  Matt looked at Jacob. “We were ambushed—the Lorkon sent their men, thousands of them, around the edges of the forest, bypassing all Coren’s men, and they attacked here.”

  Jacob’s heart skipped a beat. “What? How did you survive? There weren’t many people stationed at the house.”

  “Someone blew a horn,” Dad said, “and suddenly, they all ran off. We figured it was because Keitus himself was ready to attack. We’ve been trying to get all the injured people out of the way. But no one came and we couldn’t leave to find out what was going on.”

  “Yeah,” Matt said. “The whole place was swarming with soldiers, and then it was just a bunch of injured people. No one even died—just injuries. That’s how quickly the horn was blown after the attack started.”

  Dad grabbed Jacob’s shoulder again. “Where’s Gallus? Have you seen him?”

  “Yes. The Fat Lady, Aldo, and I took him to her cabin. Isan spread disease all over the poor guy. They’re taking care of him—they have extra potion and he’ll be okay.”

  Dad sighed, and his shoulders slumped. “That’s good to hear.” He hugged Jacob again. “I’m so glad you’re safe.” He looked beyond Jacob, finally noticing the soldiers who’d followed Jacob and now hesitated at the edge of the forest. “What do they want?”

  “To join you. And to kill the other two Lorkon.”

  Dad hesitated. “Wow. Help really is coming in unexpected ways.”

  He strode forward to the group. Jacob followed, wondering what he was going to do.

  Dad put his hands behind his back. “Thank you for joining our ranks. You will be paid for your efforts, and if you show true valor, conviction, and integrity, I’ll offer you a place on my castle guard.”

  He paced, inspecting the men before him. They straightened, staring ahead, at full attention.

  “If any of you have information on more Lorkon plans, I’d appreciate hearing them.”

  A soldier raised his hand. “One of the Lorkon—not Keitus—was about to kill someone. He said it was his brother.”

  Ferron. Myler’s brother.

  Jacob looked at Dad. “There’s no way Myler would survive a fight alone against him.”

  Dad’s grim expression showed he agreed. “Let’s gather those who are willing and go help. Time-See—figure out where they are.”

  Jacob did. He wasn’t surprised to find that the battle between Myler and Ferron had already begun. They were in the forest, south of where Jacob had fought Isan. Just as he was pulling back from his vision, though, he noticed a flurry of activity up by Azuriah’s fortress. A ton of activity! He zoomed in closer. His mouth dropped.

  The gardens were covered in dead bodies. Covered. There were more enemy soldiers pouring from the forest, rushing toward the garden area, but because of all the dead bodies, they were tripping, scrambling, unable to get to their targets.

  And their targets?

  Six Shiengols. Azuriah’s kids! Jacob put his hand over his mouth. They’d decided to fight!

  He watched in amazement as the Shiengols continued leveling Molg after Molg, human after human. They combined their bright eyesight with their shields and skills with the pole, using all three to effectively disable all who came within their reach.

  And they weren’t stumbling over the bodies. In fact, they were so light on their feet, they were jumping around, acting as if nothing was stopping or holding them back.

  Reluctantly, realizing that Myler needed help, Jacob pulled back from his vision. He wanted to watch the rest of that fight! “Got them. Let’s go.”

  Dad invited Keitus’s former soldiers to accompany them and they took off at a jog, following Jacob. As they ran, Jacob told Dad what he’d seen.

  Dad’s mouth dropped. “But . . . Azuriah said none of the Shiengols were coming to help!”

  “His kids came back ‘just in case’ Azuriah needed saving. Maybe they saw how well we were hanging on and decided to help after all?”

  Dad passed a hand over his face as he jogged. “Regardless of their reasons, their timing couldn’t have been better.”

  Pretty soon, shouting, jeering, and calls of encouragement guided them to the battle. A ring of enemies and friends surrounded Myler and Ferron. Coren was there. It looked like he was doing everything he could to help Myler while staying out of reach of the Lorkon.

  Dad pulled Coren aside. “Report.”

  Coren inclined his head. “We can’t break up the two. Ferron is toying with his brother. Anyone who gets close, the Lorkon infests with diseases and flings aside.”

  Jacob looked—Coren was right. Men, Makalos, and Wurbies lay everywhere, sick, diseased. Many were dead already. Others struggled for air.

  Dad frowned. “These Lorkon could have destroyed our entire army on their own if they didn’t have so many personal vendettas.”

  Coren nodded. “And if they didn’t know about Jacob’s antidote. Word of it has spread, and because the enemy knows we can cure the Lorkon, they’ve all hesitated. Things definitely haven’t gone as we expected.” He lowered his voice. “Not to mention the fact that some Shiengols arrived and are taking care of a large portion of the army.”

  “You heard about that?” Dad asked.

  “Ferron said something about it.” Coren glanced back at the fighting brothers, who hadn’t yet noticed that more people had arrived. “What can we do to help Myler?”

  “I’m not sure,” Dad said. “I don’t know that we can.”

  Jacob pulled a syringe from his pocket just in case. He would be ready the moment Ferron showed any weakness.

  The brothers both wielded two-handed swords. They parried back and forth, and Jacob shook his head watching. They looked like castle guards practicing. Why wasn’t Ferron acting like a Lorkon? With his immense strength, he could have destroyed Myler easily.

  Dad put his hand on his chin. “What is Ferron playing at?”

  “I don’t know,” Coren said. “Things got intense really fast and it didn’t take long for Ferron to . . .” Coren shook his head, gesturing with his hands, probably trying to find the right words. “To stop fighting like a Lorkon. It’s as if he’s forgotten how powerful he is.”

  “He’s fallen into old habits,” Dad said.

  Jacob hoped that was the case. If it was, Myler actually had a chance.

  The size of the group watching the battle increased as stragglers arrived. Ferron finally seemed to notice how much his audience had grown. And instead of it angering and giving him power, he acted overwhelmed and nervous. He jumped from side to side, then forward, striking at Myler almost rashly. Myler dodged his blows, getting in some hits that even Jacob could have blocked.

  Jacob needed to be closer—Ferron’s downfall couldn’t be that far off. He slipped through the people, syringe out, watching the battle closely.

  Back and forth they went, Myler maintaining the upper hand.

  “Come, Ferron,” Myler said. “You can’t possibly lose to me now. I’m your younger, weaker brother.”

  Ferron growled, reared back, and struck at Myler with a roar. His sword clanged sharply against Myler’s, and the vibration on the blade caused Myler to stumble.

  “I will not allow a shrimp like you to beat me!” Ferron hit again, and once more, Myler barely blocked in time.

  But Myler wasn’t defeated.
He jumped to his feet, concentration etched across his features. He attacked and regained the upper hand. Ferron was forced back and nearly knocked into Jacob.

  It didn’t take long for Ferron’s greater strength to once again put him on the offensive. He swung repeatedly. Myler blocked or dodged all his blows, but eventually, the human couldn’t stand against Ferron’s power.

  The Lorkon grabbed Myler by the shirt and swung him onto his back on the ground. He held the tip of his sword to Myler’s throat, but then he hesitated.

  Jacob realized this was the only opportunity he’d have. He jumped forward, pulling off the top of the syringe as he landed. In two strides, he was directly behind the Lorkon. With all his might, he pushed the needle through Ferron’s robes and into his back, releasing the antidote.

  The Lorkon growled at his brother. “I’ll do it. You know I will.”

  Did the needle go in?

  Jacob couldn’t tell. Ferron didn’t react.

  Myler glared. “Because you’re a coward. You kill without thought.”

  A wet spot spread out from where the needle had pierced, and Jacob realized it hadn’t entered the Lorkon’s skin. He’d done it again! Stupid, stupid, stupid! And now he only had one syringe left.

  Jacob’s brain scrambled as he tried to decide where to stab Ferron next. He couldn’t waste the last syringe!

  “Yes, I do. I kill lesser creatures, such as you.”

  Myler scoffed, then saw Jacob for the first time. “Your boots aren’t even tall enough to cover your calves, brother.”

  Ferron hesitated. “My boots? What are you talking—”

  But Jacob caught it, and without hesitation, he stabbed Ferron in the back of the calf. Ferron shrieked, trying to kick Jacob away, but Jacob had already pushed the antidote into his leg.