The Emblem Throne (The Runes of Issalia Book 2)

by Jeffrey L. Kohanek

  Brock ran as he ushered the others through the dark ruins. He paused to look back, seeing only Cam and Puri still behind him. When they ran past, he saw a number of dark shapes gathering at their campsite. Noses lifted toward the sky, releasing howls. There had to be a dozen bacabra, maybe more.

  He turned and ran, catching up to Cam and Puri as they reached the hillside. They scrambled to the top and stopped before the broken wall, where they turned and readied themselves for an attack.

  Dark shapes were now pouring through the ruins below. As the first beast rushed up the hill, Cam and Puri engaged it. Another followed closely behind, heading toward Brock. When the bacabra leapt, Brock jumped to the side and swung hard with his staff as the beast flew past. The staff connected with a rear leg of the creature, which caused it to stumble in the rubble of the fallen wall.

  Not giving it a chance to recover, Brock lunged to swing the staff around and connected with the same rear leg. The leg swept from beneath the beast, and it to crashed onto its hip as it yelped in pain. Closing another step, Brock slammed his staff down on top of its head. The metal-capped end struck hard, and the bacabra collapsed.

  Breathing heavily, Brock turned to find that Cam and Puri had dispatched the other bacabra. His gaze swung about to see another bacabra racing toward him when a whizzing sound went past, followed by a thwap and a second thwap. Brock dodged as the bacabra crashed to the ground where he had been standing. The animal was dead with an arrow poking from one eye and a knife from the other.

  Brock spun about to find Parker and Tenzi standing side by side beyond the broken wall. Parker had an arrow ready while Tenzi held a knife by the tip, ready to throw.

  “Thanks,” Brock flashed a smile before spinning back toward the city below.

  His eyes searched the darkness as he prepared for the next attack. A bright white light suddenly lit up the night, revealing their surroundings. The bacabra below began to yelp, their red eyes squinting in the light as they backed away. Now able to see clearly, Brock counted more than a dozen others as they retreated from the mound. In moments, the bacabra disappeared into the night.

  Turning, Brock had to raise a hand to block the brightness of the light. He squinted, able to make out a female figure standing below the light. It was Ashland.

  What did you do? He sent to her.

  I tried the other new rune. It turned out to be rather bright I think. She sent back.

  Brock laughed. “Have I ever told you that I love you?”

  He heard her voice from behind the bright light. “Yes, but I could always hear it one more time.”

  CHAPTER 49

  Benny ran after Jimmy, ducking under a low branch. Weaving through the trees, their footsteps trampled the low ferns covering the forest floor. Jimmy disappeared through a thick cluster of pine boughs, the branches springing back after he passed through them. Benny held his hands up to protect his face as he squeezed between them.

  The sky opened to reveal the old rock quarry below them. Jimmy squatted at the edge and eased himself onto the steep bank. As Jimmy slid down into the pit, Benny sat at the edge and prepared to do the same.

  The thrill of speed tickled his stomach as he slid down the slope into the pit. Benny’s foot hit a rock, and he stumbled headfirst. Luckily, Jimmy was there to catch him, saving him from scraped hands or worse.

  As Benny stood upright, he straightened his spectacles and flashed his friend a smile. Jimmy nodded his head toward the far end the quarry before turning and running in that direction. With a giggle, Benny broke into a run after his friend.

  Downward they ran, hopping over the crumbled rocks scattered about. Benny guessed that every stone block that built the Selbin temple had come from this old quarry.

  Jimmy stopped at the rear of the pit, looking at a wall of rock fifteen-feet tall. Dark metallic veins streaked here and there among a vast field of pale stone. Jimmy pointed at a thick vein as Benny came to a stop.

  “That must be what old Bitters was talking about,” Jimmy said. “He was right when he said it looked like a darker version of silver.”

  Benny nodded as he tried to catch his breath. He wasn’t nearly as athletic as Jimmy. “Yeah.” He took a breath. “That’s it alright.”

  Benny pulled his pack off his back, withdrawing the jar he had brought. With a twist, he removed the cover as he spoke to Jimmy.

  “Use the pick to see if you can break some off for me. Be careful not to hit with a glancing blow. We don’t want any sparks.”

  Jimmy nodded, lifting the pick he had borrowed from his father. “Here goes.”

  The pick flashed in the sunlight as it struck the dark streak of rock. A crack formed. He swung again, and the crack widened as a small piece fell to the ground. The third strike embedded the tip of the pick in the crack. With a twist and pull, Jimmy broke off a chunk the size of his fist. Benny was ready for it, holding the jar beneath it to catch the sparkling chunk of rock. A jolt of fear twisted deep inside as Benny watched the rock rattle inside the jar. Luckily, nothing happened.

  Jimmy stepped closer and looked inside the jar. “Do you think that’s enough?”

  Benny nodded, capping the jar. “From what Bitters told us, this is more than enough.”

  “I just hope you know what you’re doing,” Jimmy cautioned Benny. “This stuff sounds dangerous.”

  . . .

  The scene wavered, shifting. Benny glanced to the side, seeing Jimmy standing beside him. Just beyond, his mother was busy making dinner in the kitchen. His father sat near her, whittling a small statue of Issal from a chunk of wood. It amazed Benny how the man could so deftly create something from nothing.

  “Are you sure this is safe, Benny?” Jimmy whispered.

  Benny nodded, holding up the small glass vial. “It will be fine. There’s just a tiny bit of powdered rock in here. When it lights, it should flash a green flame like what Bitters described.”

  Jimmy nodded. “Okay. You’re the brain here. I trust you.”

  Benny set down the larger jar, holding the vial up in one hand. He glanced at his friend, who nodded. Feeling the oncoming thrill of discovery, Benny inhaled and tossed the vial into the fireplace. Involuntarily, he stepped backward in anticipation of what would happen. It was a moment frozen in time, etched within his memory.

  Benny could feel the cool breeze coming off the nearby lake through the window behind him. Jimmy stood beside Benny, holding his hands to his ears as he looked on in anticipation. His Father remained focused on his intricate carving while his mother removed a fresh loaf of bread from the oven. It was a moment to remember, followed by a moment he wished he could forget.

  The vial burst, a blast of green flame lashing out. The concussion launched Benny through the open window. Stunned, he stumbled to his feet as green flames turned orange. Despite the ringing in his ears, he could hear his mother screaming.

  “Benny! Benny!”

  He took a step toward the building and saw his friend through the open window. Jimmy was lying beside the big jar that held the rest of the rock and powder. The floor was on fire with flames nearing the jar. Realizing what would happen, fear gripped Benny’s insides, twisting them hard. He backed away from the building, stumbling across the road as the house exploded.

  Pain surged through Benny’s shoulder. He hit the back of his head and everything went black.

  . . .

  His mother called his name.

  “Benny!”

  How could she call to him? She was dead, killed in the explosion, an explosion that was his fault. Sorrow racked his heart, aching from the loss of her and Jimmy.

  “Benny!”

  Benny’s eyes opened and blinked tears away. It was dark.

  “Benny!” He heard in the distance.

  He tried to sit up and cried out in pain when he put pressure on his right arm. His right collarbone was broken again. His head hurt. Using his left arm, he carefully sat upright. His left hand went to the back of his head, coming away wet.
Even in the darkness, he knew that it was blood.

  A glimmer of light above drew his eyes upward.

  “Benny!” It was Ashland.

  “I’m…” His voice squeaked, his throat dry. He swallowed to clear it and tried again. “I’m down here!” he shouted as everything became dark again.

  For a moment, he heard and saw nothing. Then the light returned, far brighter this time.

  “Benny? Are you down there?” Ashland’s voice called from above.

  “Ashland! I fell. I’m injured!” he yelled back weakly, the effort causing pain.

  All quieted, the light dimming but not completely. Benny closed his eyes, attempting to focus and keep the fear of the darkness away. When he opened them, it was brighter again. A rope descended from where the light was shining, running along the angled stone blocks above and dangling down to the floor. A moment later, someone began to climb down the rope. Benny could see boots braced against the angled stone blocks as they descended into the dark space. As those boots pushed from the blocks to shimmy down the rope, a face emerged from the darkness.

  Brock landed on the floor and looked down at Benny with a smile. “I’m glad we found you, Benny. Good job locating a place to hide from those bacabra.” Brock turned and yelled up toward the light. “Tie the rope off and send everyone down! We found a place to hide for the night!”

  CHAPTER 50

  A shock of cold washed over Benny, causing his chest to contract. The momentary loss of breathe caused an irrational spike of panic before air again began to fill his lungs. A shiver shook his body, and sharp pangs of hunger raged within his stomach.

  “There you go. You’re healed and are as good as new,” Ashland said as she stood upright.

  Brock held out a stick of dried beef. “Here’s something to eat, Benny.”

  Benny accepted it with one hand, holding the other up to shield his eyes from the bright light Ashland held. “Thanks guys.”

  He bit into the meat, chewing heartily as they helped him to his feet. Turning, he watched Cam deftly drop down the rope to land on the stone floor. Cam was the last of them.

  Benny turned toward Brock. “What happened up there?”

  Brock shrugged. “Ashland scared them away. Apparently they don’t like light.”

  Glancing at her, Benny squinted at the brightness of the light in her hand. “Where’d you get that anyway?”

  “It’s a chunk of stone that I charged with the last rune we found before the book was destroyed.” Ashland replied. “It turned the rock into this bright light.”

  Brock ran his hand through his hair, glancing toward the opening in the ceiling. “I think we know why people stay away from this place. I strongly expect that the pack of bacabra is responsible for the reported disappearances. Who knows how long they’ve been living here.”

  Sinclair chimed in. “They might not be evil spirits, like in the stories, but we sailors know to stay away from this place.”

  Tenzi nodded in agreement.

  “This leads somewhere, Brock,” Parker said from across the room.

  Benny turned toward Parker to find him standing beside a framed doorway at the far end of the room. It appeared to be the only way out other than the hole above.

  Brock walked over to the door as the others followed. When Ashland’s light streamed through the opening, Benny could see a long corridor that faded to black beyond the glow of the light.

  Brock turned toward his companions. “Since we’re stuck here for the night, I think we should explore a bit. However, it might be dangerous, so be careful. Don’t touch anything you don’t need to touch.”

  Heads nodded in reply as Brock took Ashland’s free hand and led them through the doorway.

  Walking a step behind Brock and Ashland, Benny had a good view of their surroundings. Glancing at the floor, he noticed insects scurrying into cracks to escape the bright light that had invaded their habitat. Benny paused as he passed an open doorway, glancing about the room within but found nothing but dusty skeletons strewn about broken furniture. As he continued down the corridor, Benny wondered about them, about who they were and how they had died.

  After passing two other rooms, both empty other than broken shelves and debris, the corridor ended. Two stairwells stood before them, one rising up into the darkness while the other descended into the inky-black depths of the stone structure.

  “This place is creepy,” Benny muttered.

  Brock glanced back at him, nodding. “It’s like walking among graves. I can almost feel the poor souls who died here.”

  “Which way, Brock?” Parker asked.

  “Let’s try up first,” Brock led them up the stairs.

  Upon reaching the top, they found a small room with an ornate tapestry on the wall. Fallen stone blocks beyond the doorway prevented further advancement.

  Brock spun about and pointed. “Dead end. Everyone back down.”

  Formerly at rear of their procession, Cam led them down to the hallway. Once there, Brock and Ashland led them down the other stairwell. The air grew noticeably cooler as they descended, a pervading dampness surrounding them. It reminded Benny of when they had been captured in the basement of the Sol Polis Citadel. He prayed that they had no similar experience here.

  Brock reached the bottom of the stairs and opened a heavy wooden door that creaked in protest. Beyond the door was a long corridor with tapestries hanging upon its stone block walls. Doors lined the hallway, most closed. The open ones revealed small rooms, each with a single bed.

  “It looks like servant’s quarters,” Parker commented, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway.

  The door at the end of the corridor protested even louder than the last, creaking noisily as Brock pulled it open. He led the group through to another stairwell going upward. They found another corridor at the next floor, this one blocked by a collapsed ceiling. Turning, Brock led them up another set of stairs to the upper level. Again, they found these stairs capped by a small room with an ornate tapestry. However, nothing blocked the doorway on this side. Stepping through, Brock led Ashland and her bright light into the large room.

  The moment Benny stepped inside, he knew that they were in a throne room. Though the collapsed ceiling left half of the space buried, he could see rows of wooden benches that disappeared into the darkness. Upon the raised platform at the fore of the room stood the broken relic of a large throne. A headless skeleton rested upon the throne, the ornate garments of the dead man hanging loosely on the dry and dusty bones. Other skeletons lay scattered among the benches and aisles, some covered by tattered clothing while others wore leather armor. The opposite side of the chamber was impassible, buried beneath tons of fallen stone blocks that split the room in half. Benny glanced toward the ceiling above them, seeing that it had collapsed such that the rubble in the center of the room supported the massive stone blocks above him.

  Stepping into the room with his eyes on the throne, Brock spoke softly.

  “Everyone be careful. The ceiling above looks shaky.”

  Benny walked beside Ashland as the two followed Brock toward the throne. Stepping onto the platform, they had to duck as they neared their destination. The fallen ceiling stood just five feet above the floor, where it leaned on the partially crushed throne.

  Brock looked at Benny. “Do you have any ideas?”

  Knowing what Brock meant, Benny squatted to examine the old dust-covered throne. It was of wooden construction, tilted from the crushing weight of the collapsed ceiling pushing on one edge. The headless skeleton was missing a leg, no doubt buried beneath the rubble.

  Benny circled behind the throne as he tried to discern anything odd. He noticed runes carved into the wooden chair back. Taking a deep breath, he blew hard at the surface, sending dust into the air. When the dust cleared, he found a carving gracing the back panel. Above the arc of a rising sun were three runes etched into the wood. The familiar symbols of Order and Chaos straddled a mysterious rune in the center.

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sp; “Have you ever seen that rune before?” Brock asked, pointing toward the symbol in the center.

  Benny shook his head. “No.”

  Ashland responded, “Me neither.”

  Benny looked more closely at the runes, sensing something odd about the symbol for Order. After a moment, he realized it lacked the diamond shape in its center. His eyes flicked over to the Chaos rune and found it lacking the same element.

  “Brock, look at this,” Benny said.

  Brock edged closer as Ashland held the light so they could see.

  Pointing at the runes on the chair, Benny explained. “See the rune for Order? It’s not normally solid in the middle. Where’s the diamond? The Chaos rune is missing the same element, normally in the center starburst.”

  Brock squinted at the runes before looking at Benny. One eyebrow raised as he set his staff down and reached toward the throne. Placing two fingers on each rune, he pushed. There was an audible click and the rear panel slid down. Brock glanced toward Benny again, sharing a smile. A rush of pride welled-up inside of Benny and his thoughts of feeling useless now seemed a distant memory.

  Brock wedged his fingers into the gap as he pulled the panel downward. It slid open to reveal a hidden compartment. Within were two black books, one to each side of the release mechanism. Brock grabbed one book as Benny reached for the other.

  Still squatting, they simultaneously opened their book. Ashland leaned over them, holding her bright light closer.

  “What is it? Did you find something?” Parker shouted from across the room.

  Without responding, Benny examined the writing in what he held. It seemed to be a journal containing a series of dated notations. He flipped through the pages, observing more of the same throughout the book. He glanced over at Brock’s book and saw the same writing with even later dates. Brock flipped through his book, stopping when he came across a single sheet of paper tucked within the pages. He carefully unfolded the brittle paper and read it out loud.