Deepstone (Secret Depths Book 2)

by Raymond Cain

  “Anyway,” Flynn said, verbally inserting himself between the two ladies again. “Why did Gideon turn against us?”

  “He’s half-azuran and half-human,” Kylara replied. “And ever since we kicked the azurans out of Deepstone. . .”

  “What?!” Flynn said, incredulously. “Are you saying humans and azurans lived together?”

  Kylara nodded and Flynn stared intently at her, impatiently waiting for her to continue. To his frustration, Kylara paused as a water golem entered the room with another tray. It removed the empty platter from the table and replaced it with one filled with deep-fried sea cucumbers and mushrooms, seasoned in sweetleaf and sea salt.

  Flynn’s frustration grew as Kylara gingerly picked up one of the sea cucumbers and looked at it as though it might bite her. He was reasonably certain she realized the pause in her story was angering him to the point that he was ready to hurl the platter across the room. It was only after finishing an entire sea cucumber that she began to speak.

  “We lived in harmony,” Kylara said, pausing again to lick her fingers. “More or less. The azurans were more ruthless than we were, but we accepted them, for a time. Eventually, we had enough and since there were twice as many humans as there were azurans in Deepstone, we forced them to leave.”

  Kylara paused to chomp down a deep-fried mushroom before she continued. “Evicting the azurans didn’t sit well with Gideon and he was tempted to go with them, but he chose to stay. Our people accepted him because of his fighting skills. He occasionally trained others and he became a highly paid mercenary.”

  “Assassin,” Lycia corrected.

  Kylara shrugged. “Call it what you like, but he was paid to carry out our people’s will. Hating him for it is like watching someone stab your friend and hating the dagger, instead of the person that wields it.”

  “And what about the Clutchfeathers he assassinated,” Lycia said, snidely. “Did he enjoy that or was he simply ‘carrying out other people’s will?’”

  “Both, I would imagine,” Kylara said, coldly. “Considering how badly those torturous, slaving bastards deserved it. Personally, I would have killed them for free.”

  Her face reddening, Lycia stood up but Flynn grabbed her wrist and pulled her back down onto the couch. Her crimsonite ring glowed brightly, and the heat from it scalded his leg when she sat back down. The glow faded but the anger in her eyes did not.

  Lycia turned her hateful gaze on Flynn. “You should have left this bitch in the ice.”

  Kylara smirked and continued her story. “One assassination that did not sit well with Gideon was King Mordakai, the greatest azuran ruler that ever lived. He was a charismatic tyrant that banded warring nations together and led his people into destroying many underground settlements. The azurans grew in strength under his rule and he badly wanted to take back Deepstone, but he was wise enough to know his people would not be able to get past its fortified gates. We knew that under Mordakai’s rule, the azurans would soon be capable of overthrowing Deepstone. Gideon and I were hired to sneak into the azuran city and slay King Mordakai, eliminating the biggest threat to the human civilization. After we killed him, resentment stirred in Gideon, and he later turned against us.”

  Flynn was beginning to see why the Clutchfeather histories were so unsympathetic toward Gideon and Kylara. Even after all this time, there was still resentment there. He wondered if the two women would ever stop hating each other.

  Tasker had spent the last few moments rubbing his chin, and he surprised the others by speaking for the first time. “Both of you agree that the same trap froze both you and Gideon, correct?”

  Kylara nodded. “Yes, why?”

  “Because that means the same enchantment froze you both.”

  Kylara shrugged. “And this is relevant because…”

  “Because enchantments are like fabric,” Tasker replied. “If part of it becomes frayed, the rest of it eventually becomes unraveled. Which means that since I freed you. . .”

  “Gideon is free as well?” Kylara asked, a tremor in her voice.

  “Well, he’s probably not free yet,” Tasker said. “It’s hard to say how long it will take. It depends on a lot of things, such as his prison’s location and how closely entwined its enchantment was with yours. But I think it won’t be long.”

  Both Kylara and Lycia shifted uncomfortably.

  “But that shouldn’t matter,” Flynn said, trying to put everyone at ease. “He’s a half-human in a city of azuran. He should be dead in no time.”

  “You don’t know Gideon,” Kylara said, not lifting her eyes from the floor. “He’s resourceful, he’s dangerous, and the azurans consider him a hero for helping them liberate the city. They wouldn’t know that he killed their king as well.”

  Flynn didn’t like where this conversation was going. “So, what are you saying?”

  Kylara lifted her eyes and stared at him sternly. “We need to go back and kill him before he escapes.”

  “Forget it,” Flynn said. “I’ve been over there twice and I was almost killed both times. I’ve had enough of that place. Gideon is no threat to us. He doesn’t even know Seahaven exists.”

  “But he could learn,” Tasker added, tapping his chin in contemplation. “From Theoric.”

  Lycia nodded. “That’s true. After what happened last time, Theoric would love to find a way to destroy Seahaven. And if he discovered the return of an ancient hero capable of rallying the azurans together to launch an assault against the ones who evicted them from their homes in the first place. . .” She let her statement hang in the air for a moment. “I think the three of us should go.”

  “Three,” Kylara asked. “And which of us are you excluding, I wonder.”

  “Well we can’t bring you, obviously,” Lycia replied. “Since you’ll just ally with him again.”

  Kylara smashed her fist on the table, scattering mushrooms and sea cucumbers. “I want him dead more than you do!”

  “Of course you do,” Lycia replied skeptically.

  “I do enjoy an adventure,” Flynn said, “but I don’t think anyone should go. If Gideon wakes up, and that’s a big if, I don’t care if he lives out the rest of his days over there. It’s not like they’re going to build a fleet of ships to destroy us.”

  Kylara shook her head at him. “No, it would be an underground assault, more likely. Our people created enormous mining machines that only humans can operate. Gideon could use them to clear collapsed tunnels. All he would need is for Theoric to tell him what direction Seahaven was in.”

  “Not necessarily,” Tasker said. “As Theoric wants Flynn dead and Gideon wants Kylara dead. . .”

  Lycia objected to the claim by clearing her throat, loudly.

  “Allegedly,” Tasker added. “Gideon may be motivated to kill the one who may have betrayed him.” Kylara glared at him and he gulped before he continued. “He could enter our city as an ordinary human to get at her. All that Theoric would have to do is provide him with a ship to enter Seahaven. At which point, one of the deadliest assassins in history would be prowling our streets in search of Flynn and Kylara.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Flynn dragged his hands impatiently through his chestnut-brown hair. “Well I think you’re all just being paranoid. Keep arguing all you like, but I’ve heard enough and I’m not going back to Deepstone. If you need me, I’ll be at school.”

  As though to emphasize his point, Flynn stood up and took one of the deep-fried sea cucumbers with him. He made it only a few steps before turning around and, in a moment of defiance, he took two more from the tray.

  “After all that’s happened lately,” Lycia began, “you can’t take a day off?”

  Flynn shook his head no. “I’ve missed a lot of days lately and for all I know, I’ve been kicked out of the Citadel already. And if I miss today, I definitely will no longer be a student there. Today we’re doing trials—they’re making us duel each other so they can rank us.”

  “Oh,” Lyci
a said, nodding sweetly. “I’m sure you’ll do well.”

  Flynn’s face went slack but he quickly replaced it with an optimistic smile. “Thanks. I’ll be back here as soon as I can.”

  Flynn knew he wouldn’t do well in the trials. After joining the Citadel, he rose through the ranks and fought his way to the top of his class. He wasn’t the biggest or strongest student, but his skills with a blade outstripped the others.

  That changed after the students were given aquazite crystals to bond with their weapons. As the only one unable to attune himself to the magical mineral, Flynn did not receive the gains in speed and power that his classmates did. No longer was he able to compete with the top warriors in his class.

  Bits of deep-fried cucumber fell from his mouth as he ate, and a water golem followed the trail of crumbs he left in his wake. He dodged liquid tridents from merman fountains and sped through the seagrass lawn to the gate. Before leaving the property, he finished the snacks and cleaned his hands and face off in the watery construct.

  Concern over the trials at the Citadel gripped him, and he distracted himself by trying to focus on his surroundings. The flowers flourishing along the edges of the street permeated the air with their fruity aroma, mist from waterfalls spilling out over the cliffs moistened his skin, and the water golems scouring the cobblestone streets with their limbs went unnoticed as he dwelled on the trials.

  As the platform descended, Flynn’s gaze fell on the Citadel and the crossbow-wielding soldiers patrolling its outer wall. They wore longswords at their hips, each one with an aquazite crystal in its pommel, and he sighed with envy. He gritted his teeth at the thought of being unable to bond to such a jewel and he clenched the railing so hard that water squished between his fingers and washed over his hand.

  Before long, he reached the Waterway. He stepped onto an ice chunk and sped along the canal toward his destination.

  The Citadel was an intimidating structure, made more imposing by guard towers in front of the moat and crossbowmen patrolling the battlements above. Deadly water golems roiled in the water and even after months of entering the military academy on a regular basis, Flynn gulped down his nervousness each time he crossed the bridge. Liquid arms reached up through the moat’s surface, clenching and unclenching their watery fists. He shuddered at the thought of falling into those treacherous waters and he wondered why the Citadel’s defenses were so extensive. Perhaps they were a throwback to a more dangerous time.

  After stepping through the outer doors and passing through rooms filled with ocean predators and stuffed monsters, he entered a changing room where the students’ belongings were kept. Inside the room, a score of students were in various states of undress, murmuring to each other about the trials. Flynn unlocked his storage locker and removed a suit of padded leather armor. As he slipped it on over his clothing, he wrinkled his nose at the smell. It was ripe after months of sparring, and the stench was multiplied by his classmates’ suits of armor.

  “Think fast, Arcturus!” a familiar voice shouted from behind, and Flynn was shoved onto the ground.

  Titus Rocknugget, the largest and strongest student in the class, towered over Flynn as he lay on the floor. Flynn sprang back up to his feet and, even when standing, Titus towered over him. The brute was a hand-length taller and an arm’s width wider than anyone else in the class. His shoulder-length black hair was pulled back into a ponytail and he scowled at Flynn, his jaw clenched and one side of his mouth curved upward into a half-smile. Titus was shirtless and he crossed his arms, making his already brawny frame appear even larger. A gold chain sporting a platinum pendant hung from his neck, a reminder that his family was the wealthiest in Seahaven.

  “An attack from behind,” Flynn said, staring up defiantly at his attacker. “I guess I should expect that from you by now.”

  With a sneer, Titus faked a punch but Flynn didn’t flinch. “I’d do worse to you but my brother Fitch tells me that you assisted his escape from the salari.”

  Flynn sniffed derisively. “I assisted him?”

  “The way he tells it, you didn’t get in his way too much as he rescued you from those scaly bastards. My dad and I are working out what to do about them. Nobody captures a Rocknugget and gets away with it!”

  “He told you that, did he?”

  Titus snapped his gaze back to Flynn. “Yeah. And he says you were a minor help to him, so I won’t beat you. Yet. I’ll save it for the trials. I’ve asked Master Elgin to take you on for the first match.”

  “Fine by me,” Flynn replied, shrugging as though it didn’t matter.

  But Flynn groaned on the inside. After battling Theoric and other azurans, the last thing he wanted to do was battle the strongest student as his first match. Titus had surely trained with master swordsmiths for years before entering the Citadel—comparable to the instruction Flynn received from his father—but Titus was stronger even without the aquazite in his sword. The brute would be out for blood and if Flynn was injured, subsequent matches would be even more difficult. He hoped mightily that Master Elgin would not heed the bully’s request.

  With a sneer, Titus headed off to his own locker and Flynn resumed donning his armor. The breastplate was composed of circular layers of leather emblazoned with the Arcturus house insignia, a pair of crossed tridents. The shoulders were squared and he strapped on a pair of leather vambraces that protected his forearms. The leather was worn and cracked on the inside of the knees and elbows, where the most movement occurred, but the loss in protection at those sites was made up for by an increase in mobility. After donning his inkskin boots, he pulled on the armor’s hood, a leather covering with a T-shaped opening that left the eyes, nose, and mouth exposed. A pair of leather gauntlets completed the suit and he headed out the door toward the sparring room.

  Flynn felt a sense of connection with his father, Galyn, when he wore the armor. It belonged to his father until he outgrew it shortly after joining the Citadel. Flynn had an athletic build, but the armor was big on him and it impaired his movement. A new suit would have served him better but the old armor felt as though his dad was cheering him on.

  Most of his classmates were already in the sparring room when Flynn arrived. Some practiced swordplay with wooden blades, some stretched out their armor by swinging their arms and crouching, and others fidgeted nervously. Each student had an aquazite crystal in the pommel of their sword that glowed whenever their hand drew near, and Flynn rested a hand on his sword’s empty pommel.

  Many students looked up as Titus entered the room. The brawny boy emitted a presence that Flynn found nauseating. His armor was wide and round at the shoulders. The torso was a masterfully constructed assembly of overlapping leather plates that extended from neck to groin. Every inch of the armor was branded with curving designs and the Rocknugget family insignia was emblazoned into the breast and shoulder plates. He entered the room slowly, as though savoring the students’ reaction, and he marched to the weapon rack and sifted through the practice blades until he found one he liked. He drew the largest wooden sword from the rack and inserted an aquazite crystal the size of a fingertip into the pommel. The crystal flared as Titus wrapped his hand around the hilt.

  Master Elgin entered the room and the students snapped to attention, their arms at their sides and their bodies rigid. The man was so large, even Titus was small by comparison. Standing a head taller than the students, Master Elgin’s legs were like tree trunks, supporting an even more impressive torso. His armor, a suit of dark chitinous plates, was crafted from a marine creature’s armored hide and it was covered in scratches and dents after years of heavy use. The man did not have his greataxe strapped across his back that day, but he wore two shortswords at his hips. Thin scars creased his bald head and three larger, perpendicular scars stretched across his left cheek and disappeared behind a shaggy black beard. Flynn always wondered what beast caused the scars, but never gathered the courage to ask.

  The weapons master scowled at the class, boring his ga
ze into each student with dark, piercing eyes. His upper lip curled, as though the students revolted him. And perhaps they did. When the man’s gaze settled on Flynn, he felt like hiding.

  “Finally decided to join us, Arcturus?” Master Elgin said in a half-shouting, half-talking voice.

  “I was indisposed for a few days, sir. I was….”

  “No excuses!” the weapons master yelled. “From any of you, you putrid, steaming piles of troll feces! I came in here expecting to see warriors and instead there’s nothing but you undisciplined lumps of clay, traipsing around like school girls!”

  Master Elgin continued the tirade and the students remained stiff as stone, none daring to move or speak. The weapons master stopped in front of Flynn and he felt the weight of the instructor’s heavy gaze. Flynn was relieved when the brawny man moved on to the next student.

  “Today you will be ranked,” the weapons master continued, picking up the pace in both walking and speech. “Ordinarily, the matches are determined randomly. But this time, one of the students has offered a challenge.”

  Flynn groaned on the inside. He knew what was coming.

  “Arcturus!” Master Elgin yelled.

  Flynn’s stomach felt as though there were boulders in it. “Yes, Master Elgin.”

  The weapons master stepped in front of Flynn and shouted as though he were one hundred strides away. “Mr. Rocknugget has challenged you for the first match. Do you accept?”

  Master Elgin’s spittle was all over Flynn’s face and he fought the urge to wipe it off. “I do, sir.”

  Titus’ face split into a wide grin and he marched eagerly into the center of the circle. Flynn gulped and stepped forward, steeling his nerve against the impending onslaught.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The instant Master Elgin ordered the fight to proceed, Titus hammered away at Flynn with crushing blows. The large wooden blade chopped down onto Flynn as though it were an axe and not a sword. The crystal in Titus’ wooden pommel flared increasingly bright, as though its power grew as his anger did. It required all of Flynn’s strength to avoid getting his wooden sword knocked out of his hands and after each block, his grip weakened. The style Master Elgin taught involved basic attacks and blocks that rewarded the strong and punished the weak. Titus did not use skillful strikes, nor did he have to, since his already impressive strength was augmented by the crystal’s magic.