Song of the Worlds Boxed Set

by Brandon Barr

  Rueik pushed Hark’s seizing body off him and saw Karience grab the crossbow from the ground. Beside her stood Arentiss.

  “Shoot!” yelled Arentiss.

  Rueik rolled from his position and heard the bowstring snap. Pain seared his arm, the arrow pinning him to the floor. Snarling like a wolf, he twisted his body, yanking the arrow from the floor.

  “Run!” shouted Karience, flinging the crossbow out the open balcony. The weapon struck the top of the railing, then fell to the floor with a thud. Both women sprang for the door. Rueik lunged at Karience. His fingers brushed against the crisp Guardian uniform but caught only air. He rose to his feet as the women fled down the hall. Swiftly he turned and retrieving the crossbow from the balcony. With a scream he twisted and wrenched at the arrow in his shoulder, pulling the shaft through torn muscle and tendons. Shaking, he loaded the blood slicked projectile into the crossbow.

  He hurdled Damien’s desk with a shriek of rage.

  Killing Karience and Arentiss was now a desperate need. If they escaped, all could be ruined.

  CHAPTER 39

  ARENTISS

  “Hide!” screamed Karience to the servants, “He’ll kill you!”

  Arentiss glanced at a man in butler’s attire and a woman with an apron over her dress. Both watched in confusion as she and Karience rushed to the doorway. She wondered if Karience was right. Would Rueik trouble to stop and kill the servants? It seemed more plausible he would pursue her and Karience.

  “I don’t think Rueik will bother with them,” called Arentiss over her shoulder as she turned from Damien’s entryway onto the walkway of level six. “If he did, he’d lose us.”

  “Just run,” shouted Karience.

  Arentiss ran. She’d always felt pride in her speed and endurance levels. Years of daily routine and practice had honed her muscles and stamina. When she reached the main stairwell she stopped and looked back. Karience was just coming into view around a corner. Arentiss waited. She’d have to pace with Karience or else she’d lose her.

  “We’ve got to get to the portal,” said Karience as she neared. “If only the damn Shield Force were still here!”

  Arentiss looked beyond Karience and saw Rueik’s hooded face briefly lit in the glare of a torch.

  Karience nearly crashed into Arentiss as she started down the stairs. Arentiss descended swiftly after at her. At this pace, she knew they wouldn’t get far. Rueik was gaining.

  “The bottom of the stairs,” said Arentiss. “The palisade guards might slow him down.”

  “I had the same thought,” panted Karience.

  As they reached the second level, Arentiss heard echoing footsteps from the level above. Rueik would be anticipating the guards at the base of the stairs, but it was they who were dressed in Guardian attire, not him.

  The moment Karience turned down the last flight of stairs, she started to shout for help. Arentiss looked back and saw Rueik’s shadowed outline leap upon the same flight they were on. She and Karience touched down on the main floor, Karience still calling for help. They ran past two guards who’d been rushing in their direction.

  “He’s trying to kill us!” shouted Karience.

  The guards began shouting commands behind them. Arentiss turned to see Rueik’s knee slam into a guard’s face as a second guard pulled out a sword.

  Arentiss tried to gauge her emotions. Hark, a man she knew and trusted, was dead at the hand of someone she had thought a friend. She felt a mote of betrayal, but much stronger, was something akin to terror. That someone she’d bantered and joked with was not at all who she thought he was.

  Keeping close behind Karience, she noted how vast the entry hall was now that she was being chased. Fear was sharpening her observations. She imagined her limbic system pumping like an Arsaotic fleet engine, priming her full of adrenaline. Her legs longed to sprint at full speed, but Karience needed her.

  Four more guards came toward them as they neared the wide set of stairs that led out of the palisades. Arentiss glanced back again.

  Rueik so close she could see murder in his eyes. And now, he held a bloodied sword in his hand.

  The four armed guards drew their swords as Arentiss and Karience passed them.

  Arentiss scanned the dark street as she followed Karience. Running wasn’t going to save the Empyrean. And she felt splitting up would ensure the Empyrean’s death.

  The street was largely deserted, all the businesses closed for the night. A handful of the servant class were entering or departing the palisades, and a small mounted caravan of merchants moved away from them on the street.

  “Follow me,” said Arentiss, expending her full energy toward the caravan.

  “What do you see?” shouted Karience.

  Arentiss shouted back, “Horses!”

  The soles of her shoes grated against the pebbled street. There was no moon out. The stars would be her only light once she and Karience turned off the main road.

  Two merchants were at the rear of the caravan behind a cart loaded with barrels. Arentiss came alongside one of the riders, who turned at the sound of her feet.

  “Careful!” a woman shouted. “You’ll startle the horses!”

  Arentiss reached up and yanked the woman from the horse. The woman screamed as Arentiss jumped on the saddle and turned the horse around. The horse bucked in alarm as the woman’s screams turned to shouts. One last kick from the horse and then Arentiss was able to send the animal galloping toward Karience.

  “Climb on!” commanded Arentiss.

  Karience took hold of the saddle and half jumped, half climbed behind Arentiss. Shouting rang out in both directions of the street. Arentiss saw two guards with drawn swords and torches running toward her and Karience, and cast in the guards’ torchlight ran a hooded figure.

  “There,” said Karience, “an alleyway!”

  Arentiss kicked the sides of the animal, knowing her skills at horsemanship were mediocre at best. If not for living on Loam for a time, she wouldn’t have known how to get the large creatures to move.

  The alley they rode along began to angle to the right. “How do we get out of here?” asked Arentiss. “We need to go left, toward the portal.”

  She slowed the horse for just a moment…long enough to hear the pounding of horse hooves behind them in the alley.

  “Keep going,” said Karience. “Look for an opening on the left.”

  Arentiss sped the horse forward. Ahead were shuttered windows, some faintly glowing with candlelight from within. The stars hovering over the alley had never looked so foreign as she searched the buildings before her. Then she saw it, a large dark spot between two buildings.

  She slowed the horse and rounded the darkened corner. It was another alley, but this one would send them toward the portal.

  Arentiss launched the horse forward and they were again racing down a narrow, starlit lane.

  “There’s something I have to tell you regarding Winter,” said Arentiss. “I overheard one of the two guests talking in the conference room. It was Theurg. Over the vidscreen, he was speaking with someone, discussing a plot to kill Winter. The second guest, a man named Galthess, he’s the assassin.”

  Arentiss felt Karience’s grip around her waist tighten. “That’s why they came here! Damn the Consecrators.”

  “I thought it might be the Execrata…I tried to warn Winter, but she went through the portal.”

  “Did she go alone?”

  Ahead, the alleyway opened again into the main street.

  “No. Galthess followed her through.”

  “She’s in the hands of the gods then.”

  Arentiss frowned. She’d never heard the Empyrean speak of fate or the gods. Also odd was the comforting way she’d spoken those words, as if she were reassuring herself.

  Arentiss spied the path that had once led to the Guardian Tower, now only a trail to ruins. The path was only a short distance up the road and she kept the horse at a strident pace though the animal was clearly tiring.
Once she was off the main road, then she could let the horse breathe a little.

  “The one called Theurg is tied up somewhere in the facility. Only Hark knew where.”

  “He can rot there for all I care,” said Karience.

  A twang sounded from the side of the road. Instantly the horse reared. Arentiss tried to grab the creature’s neck but was thrown off the side as the horse collapsed onto the ground. Arentiss hit the road hard, rolling across the dirt. Shakily, she regained her feet, wary that she might have suffered some injury. She peered around in the dark for Karience. The horse whinnied, flailing upon the ground.

  Arentiss was certain of one thing. Rueik was out there somewhere. She realized now that it was not he who’d pursued them in the alley. Rueik had gone on ahead of them and cut them off from the portal. But how? Had he stolen a horse?

  “She’s right here,” came Rueik’s voice.

  Arentiss saw his hooded shadow rise from the opposite side of the dying horse. In his arms was Karience, a sword poised at her throat.

  “Run,” said Karience, her breaths shallow.

  Arentiss took two steps toward the road to the portal, her eyes fixed on the darkened face within the hood. “Let her go, Rueik.”

  “I’ll let her go on one condition. You start walking the other way. Back toward the alley.”

  “Don’t trust him,” said Karience. “He’s a Shadowman.”

  Arentiss took another step toward the portal.

  “Do you want the Empyrean’s blood on your hands?”

  “I’m not the one holding the sword,” said Arentiss.

  “Your choice determines what happens next,” said Rueik. In one swift motion, he tossed the sword away then placed a gloved hand at Karience’s throat. “I may be a Shadowman, but I keep my promises.”

  Arentiss froze. The fingertips of the glove glowed faintly red. She couldn’t bring herself to take another step.

  “Go,” commanded Karience, beginning to thrash in Rueik’s arms. “That’s an order. Run! RUN!”

  The red light flashed brightly from Rueik’s gloved hand. Karience screamed and her head twisted in Rueik’s grip.

  Arentiss took a step toward her, hands outstretched, but it was too late. Her body collapsed upon the ground, her head dangling unnaturally against her shoulder.

  For half a moment, Arentiss stared on in horror, Karience’s last cry echoing in her head, piercing her to her bones. Arentiss’s feet faltered for only a breath and then she was running. The unnerving crunch of Rueik’s feet were close behind her. Ahead lay the ruins of the Guardian Tower. The path she was on wound around it, then down to the portal. Arentiss swung left, leaving the road and hurtled a row of bushes. She went straight for her objective and knew that one false step could send her tumbling to the ground. But it was a calculated risk, betting on Rueik being less sure-footed.

  The downward slope of the terrain was outlined by darkened boulders. She cut back and forth between them, thrashing through the underbrush. She hoped Rueik’s injured arm felt every slap of brush and every granule of sand she kicked up with her feet. Better yet...

  Arentiss reached down and scooped up a handful of sand. She threw it high over her shoulder.

  Cry on this, Rueik.

  --

  RUEIK

  Rueik rubbed his wool sleeve across his eyes and tried to blink out the dirt.

  He breathed out a string of curses, unable to keep his eyes open for more than a blink. He stood there, rubbing them, his lungs sucking in air.

  “Are you going to abandon Winter?” shouted Rueik. “Are you going to leave her and go through the portal?”

  The sound of Arentiss cutting through brush was much further away now.

  “I’m going to kill her, you hear me?”

  She wouldn’t abandon Winter, would she? He felt he knew her too well. If he could get Arentiss down into the facility, there would be any number of opportunities to kill her and Winter.

  Rueik changed course and stumbled through the brush as he searched for the path to the facility. He rubbed his eyes as he went, unable to purge the irritating granules of sand that had been flung in his face.

  When he reached the facility entrance, he climbed down and took the moving platform into the guts of the facility.

  He searched every room, every closet. The only person he found was a man tied up in the common room.

  “Please,” cried the man, “It wasn’t my choice to have Winter killed.”

  The man seemed to suddenly take in Rueik. His arm, dripping blood onto the floor, the blood spattered across his face.

  “Where is Winter?” asked Rueik.

  “I don’t know anymore,” said the man frantically. “I don’t know!”

  “Who’s trying to kill Winter?”

  “It was our orders. Direct from Sentinel Cosimo.”

  Rueik grabbed the man’s collar. “Why—because she’s a Seer?”

  The man stared at him. “Yes. And she’s part of an ancient prophecy.”

  Rueik decided not to kill the man. Two things were clear. Arentiss and Winter were both no longer on Loam. Rueik left the man tied and made his way back out of the facility. Quickly he took the trail down to the sea cliff, to the portal that would send him home.

  His master needed to know about Arentiss.

  Rueik had blown his cover. Arentiss would rat him out…and that meant the Guardians would likely find out the truth: Hearth was a Beast world. All of Isolaug’s work to conceal that fact might come crashing down.

  How his master would react he couldn’t be sure, but it didn’t matter. The sooner he warned him, the more time Isolaug had to react.

  If his master did not kill him for his failure, he might give him the chance to complete his mission.

  Go to Birth. Find Arentiss. Cut her damned legs off so she can’t run away, then beat her brains in.

  HEARTH

  War gives humans the hope of dignity. It is an opportunity to prove oneself and grow stronger. In killing or displacing another set of humans, the dead or expelled leave behind a bountiful harvest—homes, riches, positions, ships, livestock, whatever you fancy to take hold of.

  And the more we war, the more there is to take.

  It is a truth that power and pleasure are the only pure things worth living for. Abandon your lives to me and my vision, and you will have power and pleasure for all eternity.

  -Isolaug, the Beast, to his Shadowmen, lower temple amphitheater.

  CHAPTER 40

  PRASEME

  Ceramic cups rattled on Praseme’s tray, and a candle rested at its center, lighting the cold passage. She walked carefully up a servant stairway, her heart racing with excitement and fear. The hot, drugged teas sloshed a little as she came to a stop before four guards in the upper tunnel, standing before a wood door. She was familiar with the room within, for it had once held barrels of wine, and the year before, bags of flour and salt. A short tunnel led from the wood door to a metal door inside.

  Praseme smiled as she approached. “It’s too early in the morning to be standing guard,” she said sweetly.

  “Your pretty face and those steaming drinks make it far more tolerable,” said one of the soldiers, not impolitely.

  “Compliments from the kitchen,” said Praseme with a bow of her head. “Enjoy.”

  When all had taken their drinks she left, passing a lookout placed in the shadows at the top of the servant stairway. Praseme stopped at the bottom of the servant stairway and joined a throng of other staff. Mica stood there, along with six stablemen and older boys apprenticing. Mairena, the kitchen matron, was whispering to a young male cook and a broad-shouldered serving girl, both big and formidable. And there were half a dozen others from a variety of servant positions.

  Praseme moved close to Mica, who held a small rope. The other end was held by the lookout at the top of the stairs. The moment the guards realized they’d been drugged, the lookout would tug hard twice on the rope.

  The two tugs
came quickly, and the servants rushed up the stairs. Praseme followed at the tail end, and when she arrived at the top, the four guards were already subdued, gags tied around their mouths. Praseme followed Mairena through the wood door, and she herself unbolted the lock to the metal door within.

  Praseme yelped with excitement when she saw Meluscia, “Surprise!” she said with tears in her eyes.

  Meluscia’s mouth fell open. “Praseme? Mairena?”

  “We conspired to free you, my dear,” said Mairena merrily. “You have a small army of servants at your service just outside.”

  “You must move quickly, my dear,” said Heulan, who stood beside Terling.

  “Has blood been spilled?” asked Meluscia, her eyes concerned.

  “A cut on a stablemen’s arm, a knock on a soldier’s head. Just nicks and scratches.” Mairena’s eyes shined. “We quadrupled the moon leaf drug for sleeping and put it in their teas. They were quite wobbly when we took them.”

  The relief was plain on Meluscia’s face. “I’m glad to hear it. You’ve taken a great chance with your lives for my sake.”

  “You belong on the throne,” said Praseme. “It is the sentiment of every servant here.”

  “She’s right,” cried Mairena. “Now, how can we help?”

  --

  MELUSCIA

  When she came into the tunnel, she found the four guards gagged and blindfolded. Lit torches held aloft by several servants cast warped shadows against the wide passage.

  It was difficult to tell the number of servants, but they seemed to be of the muscular sort, except for Mairena and Praseme. She saw Mica, but quickly glanced away to other familiar faces.

  “What would you have of us do, Luminess?” asked an older boy beside Mica.