by Matt Moss
He stepped in front of her and walked backwards. “Of course I do. Here, let me carry that.”
“I’m fine, thank you.”
He shrugged. “And here I thought you finally decoded The Path of Man and learned all that on your own.”
“I wish. That book is insufferable.” She bent low to fill the bucket.
He stood beside her in the fading light of day and watched. He didn’t speak again until they were back in the barn. “Do you still have the book?”
She filled the trough and set the bucket down. Tired, she turned to him and wiped the hair from her face. “No. Why do you ask?”
He pulled a piece of straw from a bail and twiddled it in his fingers. “Just thought we could pick up where we left off and try to unlock the secrets. I know you already found the Garden of Stones. Just figured there might be more to that book is all.”
She thought about his words. He’s right. There is much more to that book—Levi’s notes were proof of it. Speaking of those notes, I haven’t had the chance to look into those yet. Maybe we could look at them together?
“I don’t have the book, but I did happen to find some of Levi’s notes that I think might prove useful. I haven’t had the time to go over them yet, but if you want, we can take a look at those together.”
He flicked the straw away and turned to her. “You found Levi’s notes? That’s great! Sure, let’s give them a look. I’m sure they hold a wealth of knowledge.” She smiled and nodded. They walked to the house together as a full moon began to rise. “Going back to the book…it’s in a safe place, right?” he asked.
Without giving it another thought, she answered. “It’s at the camp, as safe as it could be.”
Cain grinned. “Good. That’s good. The Order guarded that book with their lives, and we wouldn’t want it getting into the wrong hands.”
They walked inside the house and tried to explain the truth to her family.
A simple man all his life, Jegar didn’t take it well. “I told you they would teach our daughter the dark arts. Didn’t I, Lesia?” her father stated and slammed the bedroom door behind him.
Lesia gave her daughter an apologetic smile.
Lyla paid them no mind. Her life was her own. Bound by fate, she controlled her destiny now.
She was a fighter. A warrior.
She was a member of the Order.
TEN
Arkin had never seen the likes of the Golden City. He marveled at the riches of emperor Xar, and wondered how he’d never heard of this place before. King Hobba led them to the gemstone fountain in the center of the vast city, and Arkin saw the grand palace in the distance. Stepping onto the gold paved floor, Hobba invited Arkin to drink. “Quench your thirst from these waters. There is a spring that bubbles below that has been told to contain healing properties.”
Having rode through a desert of heat, Arkin was thankful to arrive at the oasis. Going from the cool weather in the north to the scorching heat of the desert felt strange to him, and his body was not adjusted for such high temperatures. Nearing dehydration, he stepped into the fountain—boots and all—and began to drink and cool himself.
King Hobba and his men did the same as the fountain was more than large enough to accompany a hundred more men. They laughed like children as they splashed about. A group of men came running from the way of the palace. Hobba stopped and pointed, telling Arkin. “That’s the Grand Vizier. He barks, but has no bite.”
The tall, wiry man and his ten soldiers came to a halt. “Who dares defile the sacred fountain?” the Grand Vizier scolded. “This is a crime punishable by banishment from the Golden City. Speak your names, heathen.” Upon seeing the king, he frowned. “Oh, it’s you.”
King Hobba stepped to the vizier and wiped the long, black hair from his face. He smiled. “Take me to the emperor at once. I have brought proof.”
Seeing the king’s face, the vizier’s boldness melted away and he became more than accommodating, though he did little to hide his disdain. “Yes, your highness,” he mocked the words and gave an exaggerated bow. He stomped his feet, leading the way.
Hobba looked back and smiled, nodding his head for his men and Arkin to join him. They walked the gold-paved street all the way to the palace, and Arkin noticed a lack of people. Hobba said it was because the emperor liked his privacy and commissioned the property to only himself. The rest of the city acted like any other city, but this part was Xar’s and it felt private, almost separated, from the outside world.
Along the street, lines of trees and bushes grew; fed by the spring that bubbled beneath. Gardens of flowers and herbs were scattered about both sides, and were being tended to by what Arkin thought were slaves. They looked tired, broken, and malnourished. From their knees, they glared at Arkin with helpless, angry eyes as Arkin and the king passed by. Arkin had heard of slavery, but it had been banished in the kingdom long ago by King George’s father after the independent cities separated themselves from the crown. Seeing slavery for himself, it made him thankful for the freedom that he took for granted.
They began to ascend the steps, and memories of the palace in Kingsport flooded his mind—the high priest and the oracle at the top of the steps, and Karn’s hands wrapped around his neck. Moses flashed in his mind and he wondered where the grandmaster was. A small sense of pride welled inside him, knowing that he was fulfilling the mission that Moses gave him. He knew his purpose and knew that he was on the verge of uniting the clans to march against Victor and the Religion.
At the top of the steps, the vizier turned to Hobba. “Is there anything else I can do for you today, your highness?” he said in sarcasm. Without missing a beat, Hobba answered. “My men and I are hungry. Bring us food.”
The vizier flipped a hand. “Here at the oasis, we have more food than the likes of anything you have ever seen. Could you be more specific in your request, your highness?”
Hobba squared himself to the man. “Since you are such a gracious host, it would only make sense that you serve us whatever selection you like. All I request to go along with it is meat; any meat will do.” The king finished speaking to the man and walked to the large golden doors. Two guards struggled as they pushed the massive doors open. Hobba entered, leading the way. At the end of the main hall, the emperor stood, and Arkin noted him to be much taller than a normal man. Arkin thought the emperor rivaled Karn in height, but lacked the size and charming personality that only Karn possessed.
“King Hobba!” emperor Xar greeted and walked to meet them.
The vizier skipped ahead to announce the guests.
“This man is known in my house and needs no introductions,” Xar interrupted, waving him off. “Go and fetch them food and drink.”
The grand vizier bowed and scurried away, glaring at Hobba in doing so.
The emperor clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Tell me Hobba, what brings you back to the oasis so soon?”
Hobba put his hand on Xar’s shoulder and guided him to meet Arkin. “You asked me for proof. Here it is.” Xar looked at Arkin, then back to Hobba. “Is this man the high priest of the west? He doesn’t look like a high priest.” He bowed to Arkin. “Forgive my manners, my name is Emperor Xar.”
Arkin inclined a bow. “You have a magnificent palace here, your highness.”
Hobba spoke. “This is a man of the west, and he fights against the high priest and his religion. He is very powerful and has proof of the magic that the priest possesses.”
The emperor raised an eye. “Proof? Is he a shaman? Does he talk to the gods? And do the gods give him their favor?”
Hobba shook his head, then looked to Arkin. “Show him the stone.”
Arkin pulled the soul stone and held it for all to see. It glowed in his hand, and the colorful energy swirled about. The emperor leaned close for a better look, then raised back and folded his arms. He called for his shaman. “Tell me what this is. Does it contain power?”
The shaman observed the stone and moved his hand
around it with fingernails as long as knives. He hissed and breathed deep, his white eyes rolling to the back of his head as he searched the essence of the stone. The trance ended and he stood normal in front of the emperor. “It is but a trick. Ink and dyes used from creatures of the deep to deceive you.”
The emperor looked to Hobba in frustration. “Do you take me for a fool? Why have you brought this man of the west to my house? Western people are cursed and bring their pestilence with them wherever they go, defiling the very ground that they walk on. Why have you done this, Hobba?”
Hobba stepped to the emperor and defended Arkin. “This man protected a village from the Ungaki. Without him, everyone there would be dead. He is powerful, not cursed. Only with his help can we destroy the threat to the west.”
The emperor looked to Arkin and pondered for a moment. “This man fought the Ungaki? And lived?”
Hobba nodded. “He nearly killed the horde by himself.”
“Impossible.” Xar raised his hand to Arkin. “Show me this power.”
“What would you have me do?” Arkin asked.
The shaman hissed. “Make it rain. If you are truly blessed by the gods, then call down rain from the sky. If you cannot do this, then you shall die to cleanse the desecration that you have brought here.” The pale, old man beseeched the emperor. “Our land will suffer if he is not sacrificed. It is the only way to rid the curse he brought. The gods demand it.”
Emperor Xar looked to Hobba and nodded. “I’m sorry, friend. But you brought this man here. If he cannot do this, his blood is on your hands.”
Hobbs exploded. “This is madness! You would trust the ravings of a mad man over the word of a trusted friend?”
Xar’s anger flashed back. “Our shaman communicate with the gods! Do you dare turn a deaf ear to their demands?”
“Their gods are no gods of mine!” Hobba shot back. “So to them, I would not only turn a deaf ear; I would bend over and tell them to kiss my buttocks as well.”
The emperor breathed deep and glared angrily at his friend for such blasphemous words. To Arkin’s surprise, Xar maintained his composure and spoke calmly after a moment. “The decree stands. Arkin. Your destiny awaits you outside the palace.” Guards attended them out, and Hobba ran to meet Arkin. “Use your power and flee this place. They will kill you; judgement coming from the lips of an old hag and executed by fools.”
Arkin placed a hand on the king’s arm. “It’s alright. You brought me here to bring them proof, so that is what I will do.”
“If you can make it rain, I’ll follow you to the depths of hell itself,” Hobba stated.
“I would never ask you to,” Arkin replied with a grin, and turned to the group as they stepped into the bright light of the sun. The stone still surged in his hand, and though he wasn’t entirely sure—judging by bluish, water-like hue—he figured it to be a stone of water. At least he hoped it was.
The emperor motioned him to go on. “Prove to us, man of the west. Show us your power.”
Arkin looked into the tall man’s eyes, then turned to face the vast city that spread out below them. He looked to the sky.
Here goes nothing.
Energy surged from Arkin as he slipped into the tap. The stone grew brighter, seemingly in-tune with whatever force came from within his soul. His strained arm reached for the sky, and his spirit rose with excitement and anticipation. A bolt of swirling blue light emerged from the stone and shot into the heavens. The beam disappeared into the sky and left the stone pulsating with light in the grasp of his hand. He held it tightly, waiting for it to rain.
A blast of wind struck the palace where they stood, and a whirlwind emerged from his hand. Caught off guard by the surprise of the blast and sheer force of the gale, Arkin’s arm swung wild in front of him as a swirling wind came from the stone and destroyed anything in its path. Arkin fought to gain control of the stone, but it tore through the golden road and gardens in doing so. He raised it to the sky so it could do no more damage, and the force of the stone spun his body around to face the emperor and Hobba. They were cast to the floor and pushed up against the palace by the wind, shielding their face and peeling their eyes as they witnessed the power.
“I’m sorry!” Arkin yelled, his words naught against the deafening roar of the tempest. He closed his eyes, held on tight, and waited for it to end. After the stone was depleted, the land became calm once more and silence filled the air. He dropped the dull rock from his hand and it bounced down the hundred palace steps as the emperor and the rest looked at him in awe. Behind Arkin, the grounds lie in devastation, the slaves running and screaming for their lives.
Breathing deep, Arkin spoke. “I am so sorry. That was not supposed to happen.”
The shaman shrieked and condemned Arkin to death. “This man of the west is pure evil. He cannot bring rain so he destroys the palace and curses our land. He must be killed!”
The emperor stood and walked to meet Arkin with hard eyes. “In all my years and journeys around the world, I have never witnessed such a thing.” He turned to his shaman and to Hobba. “This man is not our enemy. He is a weapon; one that we will use against the threat to the west. King Hobba, forgive me, my friend. I should have trusted you. This is all the proof that I need. If the high priest possesses a power such as this, then he must be stopped before he destroys us all.” Xar walked past the men and back into the palace.
Hobba walked to Arkin in awe. He smiled and crossed his arms. “Proof.”
Arkin grinned. “Proof.”
“We cannot do this alone. Even with all that I command, and all that Hobba commands, it is not enough if what I hear of the high priest’s army is true.”
Arkin nodded in agreement, hoping that Victor didn’t hold sway over the independent cities yet. If he did, he wasn’t sure if the power of all the clans united would be enough to stand against the high priest and the Religion. “We need all the help we can get,” he said to the two men as they met in the emperor’s private chamber.
“We must unite the tribes,” Hobba stated.
Emperor Xar held his hands up helplessly. “If I could snap my fingers and unite them, I would. The history of our people runs deep like the oceans, forged in the blood of our brothers and sisters in search of land and control. The differences between us cannot be undone.”
“But they can be mended,” Hobba noted. “We must show them the way.”
The emperor looked away, deep in thought. “You say you fought the Ungaki.”
“Yes,” Arkin replied.
Xar rubbed his smooth chin. “They have plagued our lands for many years, and brought havoc to everything they touched.”
“Are they part of the tribes?” Arkin asked.
“They are the outcasts, the deserters, and the mad. Claiming no allegiance to anything other than death, their numbers have grown immensely. Every night, they kill and they take, and the people fight them the best they can. But I am afraid that this is a war that we will slowly lose.”
King Hobba stood. “Then we destroy them. That will unite the clans.”
The emperor looked to Arkin. “King Hobba is right. If we can destroy the Ungaki, then maybe peace can be made between all of us.”
Arkin stood, eager to go. “Then let’s go. Rally whatever men you have and we’ll ride in the morning.”
Xar shook his head. “Even with our armies and your powers combined, it is not enough to destroy the Ungaki. Their numbers are too great.”
“Cut the head off the snake,” Hobba noted and paced the room, focusing his thoughts. “It is said that they have a queen who controls them; a witch who has plagued their minds with black magic.”
“Yet nobody has seen this queen,” Xar replied. “There is no proof of this witch. If there were, my shaman would surely know.”
“My scout has seen her walking outside the horde’s cave in broad daylight.”
“Impossible. Nobody can get that close to their domain.”
Hobba crossed h
is arms with pride. “My scout is one of the best in the world. I know this because he is my son. And he nearly lost his life to bring me this knowledge. The witch lives, and I say we kill the bitch.”
Xar turned his back as he decided what they would do.
Arkin spoke. “So you’re saying that if we kill this witch, the Ungaki will be destroyed?”
Hobba nodded. “Without her, the horde will scatter like scared little children and we will ride them down like dogs.”
“And if they don’t? What, then? When we kill the queen and they don't run? What if they fight back, more savage than ever because they just lost their queen?” Arkin asked.
“Then let us pray to the gods that they don’t,” emperor Xar said, turning as he spoke. “If we are to unite the clans—if we are to stand a chance against the high priest—then this must be done. King Hobba, you say you know the location of the Ungaki’s lair?” Hobba nodded. Xar continued. “Then summon your best men and assemble them here. A small party of skilled warriors will be required as the enemy will see a large force coming. We will wait for your return.”
King Hobba walked to open the door, and the four men that made up his guard entered the room. He held his arm out, displaying them before the emperor. “Here they stand, ready at your command. When do we go?”
Arkin smiled, knowing that each man was skilled in the art of war. He’d seen them fight the Ungaki, and fellowshipped with them on the road to the oasis. He bonded with the king’s son, Bothar, the scout, and counted him a trusted friend. Arkin looked to the emperor for a reaction.
Emperor Xar folded his arms and walked to Bothar. “You are Hobba’s son? And you have seen this witch with your own eyes?”
Bothar nodded sharply. “Yes, your eminence. I will lead us to their cave.”
The emperor’s eyes narrowed at the young man, then looked to Hobba. “The horde’s numbers are told to be so great that they shake the ground with their march. And you six will enter into the hornet’s nest and attempt to kill the queen, not knowing how large that nest may be?”