The Sword of Einiko (Swords of the Bloodline Book 2)

by A. R. Wilson

  She fingered at the cover of the book. Had she really seen his eyes darken at the last moment? Was it possible that he yearned to treat her better than this...? That he loved her?

  Something between a cough, laugh, and gag blurted past her lips. No. She could not afford to even consider the thought. Finding the missing piece in The Master’s plan. That’s what she had to do. No other detail mattered.

  Perhaps Jerricoh could be the missing piece.

  Pulling the book onto her lap, she chanced a fleeting glance at him. What purpose did it serve for Jerricoh to hide her father from The Master’s sight? A hot sting came to her eyes at the mere thought. Not only from the possibility of seeing her father again, but the possibility of Daddy seeing her in this place. What would he think? How much would she have to confess? And how soon until he knew about the pregnancy? Even if he didn’t turn her away. Then what? It wasn’t as if they could go back home and live a normal life again. The Master would hunt her down again.

  Turning to the first page, the hot sting in her eyes watered over and obscured his vision. The swarm of emotion blurred her ability to even think of reading. A hand touched her shoulder. She flinched, shaken.

  “Here.” Jerricoh held out a handkerchief. “You can do this.”

  His midnight blue eyes swept over her face before he returned to his seat across the room.

  CHAPTER 19

  The agonizing wait finally ended. Arkose flung himself forward, gripping Jurren like a drowning man pulled from the water.

  “It’s over.” Arkose’s husky voice gasped from lack of breath. “It’s over.”

  “Let’s get you some fresh water.” Jurren pulled at his friend to get him to walk.

  “This way.” Kidelar took the lead.

  Several minutes passed after reaching the grove, before Arkose could release his grip of Jurren’s sleeve to stoop down to the spring. He drew in long, slow gulps of water. After taking his fill, he cupped a handful to splash over the back of his head. Then again, and again. Soon he began slapping at his scalp as though fighting something off.

  Jurren gripped his hands. “Steady. It’s over.”

  Arkose jerked against the hold, then paused. The lines on his face added ten years to the man Jurren hadn’t seen for the past two weeks.

  “We’re almost out of the valley.” Jurren gripped the back of the man’s head and pulled him close until their foreheads touched. “Whatever you battled is gone.”

  Taking deep choppy breaths, Arkose wrapped his hands over Jurren’s grip. Under the press of flesh, Jurren felt the man nod.

  “As soon as you’re ready we head out.”

  “I’m ready.” Arkose bolted to his feet.

  “Not like this you’re not.” Jurren adjusted the pack on his back. “Catch your breath. Take a few bites of food. You need all your wits for whatever lies ahead.”

  “How did you find me?” He rambled the phrase out as a single word.

  “You know elves. Always strutting around with secret wisdom.”

  Arkose furrow his brow for a moment, then relaxed into a dark laugh. “I hope we never see that pitiful excuse for a guide ever again.”

  Azredan spoke as though he had waited for this exact moment. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  All in one motion, Arkose pushed past Jurren to head for the elf.

  Kidelar jumped to stand in Arkose’s way. “Don’t do it.”

  “Move it.” Arkose glowered. “He needs a lesson in manners.”

  “You haven’t even caught your breath from coming through the Fear. This is panic talking.” Kidelar spread his hands wide.

  Jabbing at the air past Kidelar’s head, Arkose craned to look at the elf. “He’s the one who’s going to panic. Move it bookworm.”

  The crack of Kidelar slapping Arkose across the face made Jurren flinch in surprise.

  Putting a stern finger in Arkose’s face, Kidelar leaned in. “Jurren is the only one permitted to seek revenge on this quest. Whatever you have rolling around in your head, take it five paces back, and stand down.”

  The expression of shock on Arkose’s face matched Jurren’s own feelings. Blinking hard, Arkose walked to the spring rubbing the back of his neck.

  Kidelar straightened his clothes then turned. “Jurren has assumed the burden of your pack for many days. You owe him a bit of gratitude.”

  Azredan tipped a finger off his forehead, then went to retrieve his belongings.

  Shifting the load from his shoulder to his wrist, Jurren passed it over. Azredan held his usual impish grin. Though Jurren wanted to hate the man, experience had taught him some things were better lived than explained, including why Azredan abandoned them when he did. The past two months had proved the Sword of Einiko must be captured. And more importantly, it must be destroyed at any cost.

  “I take the lead from here on out.” Jurren adjusted the straps of his scabbard.

  “You’ve earned it.” Azredan held an arm out wide to the side.

  Arkose barked a laugh. “Not to mention you almost took us on three wrong turns.”

  “It was a test.” Jurren turned his head to Arkose while keeping his gaze on Azredan. “A test designed to teach me how to tap deeper into my vision.”

  Azredan’s eyes pinched at the corners as his mouth curved up. “Your intuition grows every day.”

  “Then explain the cloud which hovers in my mind.” Kidelar hitched his thumbs into the straps on his pack. “Something waits for us.”

  The elf raised an eyebrow at Jurren. “What awaits—”

  “I got this.” Arkose cut him off, taking long strides to stand behind Jurren. Pulling him around, he finished the question. “What lies ahead when we leave this land of torment?”

  “The Inner Kingdom.” Jurren’s breath felt hot in his mouth. A rush of images tore through him, similar to a wave of vision but with more control. “This is the land where Einiko unleashes the fullness of his creativity. His playland of monstrous creations.”

  A muscle in Arkose’s face twitched, tugging his mouth to the left. “This is the part where you tell me, ‘You had to ask’.”

  Kidelar put a hand on both their shoulders. “We’ll make it through.”

  “We will.” Jurren copied the gesture, putting a hand each man’s shoulder.

  Arkose nodded. “I trust you.”

  Nodding, Jurren cut across the grove. Each of the men fell in line behind as they hiked the last leg out of the Valley of Fear. The gap at the far end led to another series of corridors. After a few dozen turns, the ground sloped into an incline. The stone floor leveled out, and Jurren took the next right.

  A hissing voice slurred at them. “Ahh, freshhhhh meat.”

  Jurren pulled out his sword. Sounds behind him indicated the other men taking similar precautions. His gut tightened, and he looked up. Draped over the top of the wall rested an enormous spider. At least it resembled the shape of a spider. Its head and shoulders were that of a woman with stringy black hair. Fangs protruded from her gaping mouth. Two long, front arms bent at deep angles with something in the shape of clawed, human hands at the end. Black armor similar to the outer shell of a spider covered her legs and torso. The rear section of her body swelled larger than the rest of her, coming to a sharp point. Two sets of legs gripped the wall below her middle, while a pair of rear legs rubbed against each other.

  “It has been so long since I had fresh meat.” The way she drew out each syllable was as eerie as it was annoying.

  Her face cocked this way and that. She shifted to lean in for a closer look. An arrow lodged in her shoulder and she screamed. Not the scream of a woman in pain, but the scream of a woman burned alive with a child in her arms. The sound echoed off the walls, throbbing against Jurren’s ears, then she skittered down the back side of the wall.

  “I’d love to comment on how easy that was, but I’d be wrong, wouldn’t I?” Arkose was breathing hard.

  “Absolutely. Run.” Jurren raced forward.

  At
the next split he turned left and charged on.

  Hissing filled his ears as something pressed in his back with enough force to throw him to the ground. Shoulders pinned under two metal-like claws, Jurren tucked his limbs under to push himself up. The straps of his pack tugged hard and lifted him up and off the ground. He folded his arms up and in, slipping free. Dropping to the ground, he looked for his sword. Azredan pressed a handle into Jurren’s hand as the elf ran around a corner. Arkose stumbled to a stand while gripping his forearm, bleeding.

  “What happened?” Jurren took a step forward to assess the injury.

  Arkose shook his head. “I’m fine. Go! She has Kidelar.”

  Jurren tucked his blade to point behind himself as he leapt into a sprint. Arms pumping hard, legs energized with adrenaline, he followed the dust smears in the ground indicating the path Azredan had taken. Two screams called out over the labyrinth before the walls opened into a grove. Only a few feet of grass extended into this portion. Beyond, lay a dense coating of webs, and the overwhelming scent of earth and decay. Thick, white strands extended several feet in the air with tunnels branching through in three directions. Scuttles in the sticky carpet indicated Azredan had taken the branch to the left. Was that the way Jurren needed to go? His inner knowing tugged him to take the middle one. To form an ambush? The lack of screams from Kidelar was both comforting and terrifying. Had he escaped or been silenced?

  Jurren plunged into the middle tunnel. White threads swirled in a passage tall enough for him to walk through with arms raised (if he wanted to do such a thing). Whatever that spider creature was had clearly made these paths to be wide enough for her to pass freely. The image of those long, pointed fangs kept Jurren moving forward. Several yards ahead, he came to a branch and veered right. At the next branch, he turned left. The tunnel opened up in a wide, dimly lit cavern where the odor intensified. He put an arm over his mouth. Small bundles hung from the ceiling. Dozens of them. Some were short and fat. Others long and thin. Each swayed gently from a rope of silken threat. Their lumpy appearance hinted at the remains of previous meals. A testament to the woman’s strength.

  Glancing right, Jurren saw the area extended far into the distance. What he initially thought were dozens of casings were now hundreds. Possibly thousands. She kept them all. Each one a trophy to the life she sucked out of them. He didn’t have time to register the awe of the sight. Inching to the left, he climbed over a cluster of sticky rocks to find another tunnel. At the opposite end of the room something crashed. The spider woman clambered over a loose pile of rocks, struggling to gain her feet. In one arm, she carried a limb body.

  Jurren bellowed a word his wife would not have approved of as he ran towards the creature. Her angular jaw thrust forward as she hissed her displeasure. Backing towards the wall, she scurried up her curtain of web to the dense network of ceiling above them. Kidelar’s legs flopped as she shifted her load. Pulling out a dagger from a fold in his boot, Jurren hurried forward for a better shot. The spider woman stared at him as she picked her way through the obstacle course of corpses. Was she doing this as a display? To taunt him with what she planned to do with his friend?

  Readying his blade, he waited for the right moment. As his shoulder tensed to throw, her abdomen thrust forward and a barrage of spines released. Jumping to the side, he missed the volley, catching sight of her second attempt. He rolled to avoid the spray. The sound of needles whizzing past him rammed a chill down his spine. Were they poisoned? And why would a spider even have the ability to throw needles?

  His mind offered an answer by giving him the image of Kidelar bleeding profusely from thousands of pricks. Steeling his thoughts, he pushed the notion aside.

  The creature released a shattering cry. Jurren’s peripheral vision picked up Azredan off to the side reading another arrow. Wait! She’ll drop him! Rushing forward, he scanned the area for something to lessen the fall. The spider howled again, making Jurren’s ears ring. She ripped a bundle from the ceiling, and hurled it at Azredan. As she heaved, she tucked her abdomen to throw a volley of spikes at him. Jurren threw a dagger and clipped the edge of her hand. Recoiling, she scurried to a cluster of bundles and disappeared.

  “She took him above.” Azredan slung his bow and started to climb the nearest wall.

  Scanning the network along the ceiling, Jurren saw a wide shadow move across. Spindles of skeletons wiggled and swung from the disturbance. He headed towards the other end of the cavern. This was her feeding grounds. If she planned to kill him, it would be in here. She had to pop out again through another tunnel. A pile of rocks, twice as tall as him and covered in web, stood thrust out of the ground against the far wall. Another tight grouping hung above and to the right. This had to be the place she would come out. He positioned himself where he would have a good shot, and waited.

  Agonizing seconds ticked by as he watched this bundle swivel, then that one. Almost as if she moved back and forth. Two casings drooped hard, then fell away. The ceiling ripped as a black, pointed leg pierced through. It pulled horizontally, causing two more casings to fall. The white bundles split open as they landed, but Jurren kept his eyes on the ceiling. A moment later, Azredan plunged through the hole. He gripped the edge of the gap and heaved his body to the side. A shower of spines peppered near him. With another swing, he lunged to grip a nearby bundle. It swayed as it lengthened under his added weight.

  The spider woman emerged at the spot in the ceiling Jurren predicted. As she adjusted her grip to move Kidelar to her other hand, he slipped and twisted away. Not from falling, but from willful movement. He’s not hurt! With both hands Jurren, released a set of daggers. The distraction of Kidelar’s escape was exactly what Jurren needed to aim one at her throat, and the other at her mouth. At the very least, he could stop her from taking her first bite. Her screams lasted only a moment before turning into a coughing gurgle. She flexed her arms in odd angles, then clattered against each other as she fell. The web padding coating every surface muffled the thump of landing on her back. A couple of her legs twitched. Black liquid trickled from her mouth and throat. After a few more jerking motions, she fell still.

  “Is she dead?” Kidelar called down from the tear above.

  “I think so.” Jurren walked a wide berth around her, wanting to be sure.

  “Then I insist you join me and see this.”

  Needing to be sure, Jurren pulled out his sword and severed the head of the spider creature. He was not going to risk something that strong finding the strength for one last bite.

  With the job done, he turned to find a place to grip. Great bundles of web crisscrossed in all directions. He worked his way up the wall. At the top he used another dagger to cut through to the ceiling above. Squeezing through, the sight of sun reflecting off the white, silken threads nearly blinded him.

  “Can you see it?” Kidelar pointed at the horizon, jabbing for emphasis.

  Shielding his vision, Jurren squinted against the glaring white as it gave way to a similar view he beheld before he entered the labyrinth. Rows of stone ran this way and that with the occasional patch of green from a grove. But this time, in the far distance, a peak lifted out. Could it be? The mountain at the center of the Inner Kingdom where Einiko lived?

  Strings of heat cinched around his heart. For the first time since the horsk dragon disappeared into the night, he could see where his daughter was being kept. It was right there.

  “That’s where we’re heading.” Azredan wiped dirt and webbing from his pants.

  “How did you get up here?” Kidelar practically flinched at the sight of the elf next to him.

  “I climbed.” Azredan gave his usual grin.

  “But I saw you fall. Aren’t you hurt?”

  Their words registered as little more than background noise to Jurren. At the moment, he raged with the need to sprout wings. She was right there. Only a day of flying separated them, had he still been traveling with his dragon Cale. Why was it exactly they needed to abandon their
companion dragons?

  “Jurren!” Azredan slammed into him, throwing him back.

  A second after he hit the ground, the give of the webbing released into a freefall. Jurren threw out his arms, seeking a handhold. Then the ground slammed into his side. Were it not for the thick, white padding along the ground, he would have been knocked unconscious when his head snapped from the recoil. Then a screech. A loud cry of attack from a... horsk dragon? No longer confused or irritated for Azredan’s actions, Jurren worked to gather himself to his feet.

  “I think it’s gone.” Azredan walked in a wide circle, staring up.

  Another cry, farther away.

  “Arkose.” Kidelar rolled, struggling to get up. “We have to find him.”

  Jurren locked eyes with Azredan, then sprinted for the tunnel at the other end of the cavern. Out in the stone corridors, the sound of the horsk dragon came louder. Had it circled back? Jurren pushed to increase his pace. But when he returned to the place of their parting, he found only a pool of blood drying on the stone floor.

  Looking back, he saw Azredan coming.

  “He’s not here.” Jurren scanned for a trail.

  “Think, Jurren—” Azredan started to say, but Jurren snapped a hand to interject.

  That stupid elf had been back less than a day, and he was already slowing them down. But as he allowed himself a moment to pause, Jurren sensed an awareness. Arkose had come to find them after he had caught his breath from the injury. That meant he had to be somewhere in the maze of the spider woman’s tunnels.

  “We go back.” Jurren hurried a retreat.

  This time he noticed a drop of red in a set of footprints along the tunnel to the right. Azredan came up behind him as they navigated the twists and turns leading to another entrance of the lair. Several yards away, Arkose stood with Kidelar.

  “Looks like we ran all this way for nothing.” Azredan gave Jurren a crooked grin.