Chasing the Night (The Krypt Series Book 1)

by Tyranni Thomas

  CHASING THE NIGHT

  TYRANNI THOMAS

  Chasing the Night

  Copyright 2019 Tyranni Thomas

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover design by The Cover Haven

  Editing by Jenifer Knox

  No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without express written permission from the author. Any unauthorized use of this material is prohibited.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Dedicated to Shannon Rhodes.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One – In the Beginning

  Chapter Two – Beautiful Strangers

  Chapter Three – All That Glistens

  Chapter Four – The Price of Living

  Chapter Five – The Other Shoe

  Chapter Six – The Truth and The Test

  Chapter Seven – How Things Are Done

  Chapter Eight – What the Krypt Wants

  Chapter Nine – Duty and Dysfunction

  Chapter Ten – Coveted and Plucked

  Chapter Eleven – In a Pinch

  Chapter Twelve – Roll with the Blows

  Chapter Thirteen – The Truth

  Chapter Fourteen – The Games We Play

  Chapter Fifteen – Caught in the Mix

  Chapter Sixteen – What’s Forbidden

  Chapter Seventeen – Learning the Trade

  Chapter Eighteen – Tangled Web

  Chapter Nineteen – When Reality Rears Her Head

  Chapter Twenty – Rolling Boil

  Chapter Twenty-One – The Preparation

  About Tyranni Thomas

  Chapter One

  In the Beginning

  Chalice

  Many swords were unsheathed. Those not buried in the fallen lay glinting beneath the morning sun. It was a sight I was used to. I had to be. There was seldom a trip to town that didn’t involve bodies of some sort. Crucified, impaled, or simply discarded. To linger around them often drew questions, something I couldn’t afford.

  The bridge was low and long. Sometimes, when the wind was harsh, the water would be blown across the walkway. Those were the worst trips home, I recalled, instinctively curling my toes against the memory of wet stockings.

  Large stone cliffs shot up on the other side of the bridge creating a T shaped intersection that forced those entering to choose between the docks or the many lower district rental homes that paved the way toward the center of the city.

  I took a deep breath and nodded politely to a passing soldier. His partner side-stepped and politely waved me toward a clear path.

  “Lady,” he politely greeted.

  I forced a smile and took a quick glance at his brown eyes before he passed me. They were polite, but it didn’t stop the hammering in my chest. I’d spent my life hiding from and lying to the lawmen.

  Once I crossed the bridge, I veered right toward the rentals. They were nice. Much better than my tent outside of town. Each square structure had a window on either side and doors on both ends. It was so interesting to look at, until I realized they were a matter of necessity rather than architectural fashion.

  A loud piercing noise froze me in my spot. It was the same horn I had heard a hundred times from the forest. The war horn.

  Chaos exploded around me. It sounded like a herd of animals had been unleashed behind me. Men sprang full speed through the rentals and toward the bridge.

  This was real. It was happening. Fuck.

  The men met the invaders late. They were already spilling from the bridge. I whirled one way and the next, unsure of where exactly to hide. Women and children screamed and stampeded past me. Families flew into their homes, only to burst out the back doors.

  Arrows zipped through the air landing with powerful thumps against the doors and roofs of houses. One slammed into the wall next to me. I sprang forward, uncertain of my own path.

  All that mattered was the next breath and the one after that. I drew air so deeply my head hurt and followed the masses. Everyone seemed to be pushing toward the gates separating the low village from the city’s epicenter. Shoulders slammed into mine, casting me from side to side. Every time I misstepped or slid, I was certain I would be crushed beneath the frantic crowd around me.

  I closed my eyes and let the sway from the sea of flesh carry me through the gates. When it abruptly dispersed on the other side, I was left sprawling into a cobblestone clearing.

  Suddenly, my wrinkled, mildly disheveled appearance fit right in.

  I had never been inside the gate before. Mother was never bold enough to press that far into their world with me. Our business had always been dockside. To the right of the gate, lay four residential square houses in rows of two each—much like the ones on the outside—except these were flat-roofed. Warriors, if that was what one called them, were pacing the rooftops with bows in hand. Women stood with them, balancing bags of arrows and torches.

  I thought my eyes would leap from my face. These crazy fuckers were prepared to burn their own shit before they gave it up. I turned and shakily backed away from them. People were hurrying in the opposite direction, so I followed suit.

  The inner section was almost identical to the lower layer, with a cliff wall twice as high defining its backside. The left of the gate exploded into a business section. Merchants scrambled to shut their windows and bar the doors. My thoughts raced.

  Where the fuck was I going to hide if they’re locking everything up?

  I came to a sharp corner and could see the opposite end of the mountain edge. Fuck! I turned, chest heaving and visibly panicked.

  “Fated Few,” I cursed on a whisper, staring up at the massive entrance to the mountain. The rock had been carved into a giant glistening skull. It was grotesque and glorious all at once. The mouth was stretched open as if the thing were screaming. Steps had been fashioned so that people could enter beneath the carved fanged teeth that jutted from the roof of the entrance.

  I’d never seen anything so hideously beautiful. In the middle of the most terrifying moment of my life, it was as if the world had frozen for that one epiphany, only to snatch it away before I could realize what it had been.

  “Come on, girl. You’re gonna catch your death out here!” a chipper high-strung voice urged.

  It belonged to a slender blond woman with vibrant blue eyes. In the middle of the madness, she took my hand and led me with ease through the masses who seemed to have parted for us. Some even apologized for their garments brushing against her.

  “Lady Reverie,” the two words whispered fervently through the crowd. The sound spread like wildfire until the only thing left in front of us was a rock balcony.

  I wasn’t sure how close to the edge I wanted to venture. I could still feel the hundreds of limbs brushing against my own and the pressure of half a city at my back, even if it no longer existed. I doubted I would ever forget that feeling, but Lady Reverie bid me forward, and it seemed fate itself drew me toward her.

  “We are inside the mountain… inside-inside?” I was sure that we were, but I had also been sure such tales were fantasy—until that very moment.

  “Yes. It protects us. The mountain and my family.” She smiled, wrapped her arm around me and patted my back.

  I placed my hand on the cold flat stone and glanced down into the gladiator-like opening. The floor had been carved expertly, raising up the very center so that it functioned as a stage. There were cages on either side of the large circl
e. They were empty, but still demanded my attention before it settled on the people gathered in the circle.

  There were a few faces, but I couldn’t take my eye off the tall woman with short dark hair. I’d never seen anyone so refined and fancy. She wore a long black cloak with rich fur that wrapped around her upper arms. Her eyes, like her hair, shone brilliantly despite their dark color.

  Her gloved hand rose, commanding the room as easily as her appearance had.

  “People of the Mountain. You are on sacred ground.” Her gaze swept across the tiers and she nodded reaffirming her own words. “Nothing can harm you here.”

  “The Krypt,” people whisper hissed around us.

  The sound of the word travelling through the crowd gave me chills. I wanted to tell them to shut up, but I was too busy leaning forward. She was like a siren, her voice soothed and cradled us all.

  “Nayana of Rochambeau, our Excellence, the Lady of the Mountain and fearless defender of the chosen.” She waved her hand toward an older, gentler-looking woman beside her and a deafening applause sent my shoulder toward my ear.

  The white-haired woman waved and smiled as the applause went on. I thought it would never stop, and she certainly made no effort to cut it short.

  A man beside her broke from the line of important looking people and jogged to the back of the circle. He took a ramp that zig-zagged into the air a few hundred feet before disappearing into the shadows. Light slithered in as if a door had been opened way up there, forcing me to squint to see him. Everyone around me seemed too enthralled by the elderly woman’s praises to notice him.

  “You are all so effective and responsive. We owe our continued safety to all of you as well as our brave young men and women on the frontlines.” She nodded, pleased with her own choice of words, and I noticed the man coming back down again.

  He approached the woman in black and whispered to her for several moments before she promptly moved back to Lady Nayana’s side and seemed to relay the message.

  “Indeed. It is as I say, we are successful once again.” Nayana smiled.

  Cries of relief sounded around me, and the crowd subtly began to thin.

  Go, Chalice. Get, my mind screamed.

  I knew I should. I had to before something else happened. But before I could move, the lady who’d brought me here laced her hand around my wrist.

  “You’re new here!” Lady Reverie announced. I stared at her momentarily. I’d never met anyone so bright and bursting with cheer.

  “I uh...” I wasn’t sure if I wanted to admit to such a thing. Especially with everyone on edge as they were.

  “Well, I’m Reverie!” She beamed and held out her hand. When I took it, she quickly wrapped her arm through mine like we were the oldest of friends.

  “Come.” She smiled. “You must try Blazian’s Syrup. It will put those nerves to sleep, girl.”

  Her demeanor was all mountain and old money, but every time she opened her mouth, I heard something foreign and simple. Something I couldn’t really place, but I knew all the same that it meant she didn’t belong here either.

  I kept my thoughts to myself and lazily allowed her to lead me through the streets. We turned left from the fanged entrance and found Blazian’s Winery two doors down. A short, curvy young woman was briskly setting up the tables within, smoothing out the tablecloths and folding napkins.

  “Blazian! We need some Syrup,” Reverie gushed as we settled over a table. “This is Blazian,” she said to me. “She makes the best wines and Syrups.”

  Blazian looked up from the counter and winked toward me. Her hair was in duel knots atop her head, revealing a hint of freckles across the bridge of her nose. The syrup was thick and so sweet I could smell it from where we sat in the corner.

  “Lovely to meet you.” I smiled before realizing I hadn’t even bothered to introduce myself to Reverie yet. “Chalice. My name is Chalice.”

  I closed my eyes, immediately deeming myself the village fool.

  “Take this, it will help with the nerves,” Reverie whispered, sliding a glass of the thick liquor toward me.

  I nodded, thankful for the opportunity to escape conversation, and carefully sipped the brew.

  I wasn’t sure I knew anyone who had ever drank Syrup. A single bottle was worth more than most people owned. A thick, sweet coating remained on my tongue and pallet long after I had swallowed. There was no warmth or breath-taking kick that cheaper liquors packed.

  “That's amazing,” I admitted, chasing the taste from my lips.

  They smiled across the table until it almost became unnerving. Finally, Blazian tapped her nails on the table top and trailed back toward the serving area.

  “I didn't get a chance to thank you,” I said to Reverie once I found my voice. I hated myself for the awkwardness, but I couldn't seem to keep it at bay. Reverie seemed not to notice. Her hand landed atop mine in that familiar way, and she shook her head as if it had been nothing.

  “I've done business here for some time, but I've never been inside… of course, there's never been a horn blast either…” my voice trailed off.

  “It's been a busy morning, for sure,” Reverie agreed. She tipped her head toward the basket I had set on the floor, and curiosity won over her dainty features. “What kind of business is it you do, Lady Chalice?”

  I wanted to laugh. No one had ever called me a lady before. I doubted such titles were afforded to Dirt Dwellers.

  “Potions and tonics for the afflicted.” I lifted the basket onto the table and pulled back the edge of the towel covering so she could see the many brown glass bottles and herb bundles.

  “You really know what those are for?” Reverie asked without malice. She seemed impressed, which was silly to me—I’d been handling medicine all my life.

  “Sure.” I smiled. “Is there one in particular you would have?”

  It was the least I could do. She had offered me safety, after all.

  Chapter Two

  Beautiful Strangers

  Chalice

  It took two more days to gather the courage for another trip over the bridge. The ground was covered in dew but cleared of corpses this time. On either side of the bridge, dead men had been strung up. It was the only remaining evidence of the recent attacks.

  People bustled about, chattering and shopping as they went. It was refreshing and reassuring all at once. I doubted anything would remove the fear of another attack from the back of my mind, but that didn’t change anything—I had to keep going. The world didn’t stop for me or my anxiety.

  The three silver I made off Blazian and Reverie were my only incentive to return. It was enough. I'd never made that much off a sale, and while I suspected part of it was charity, I was now emboldened enough to demand such prices for my time and goods.

  With the basket cradled before me, I slowly made my way across the damp surface of the bridge and peered to the left. Something about that little shack near the dock teased at my curiosity, but it was so far in the distance, I feared I might find some ill fate in the shadows.

  Daytime or not, one shouldn’t linger near the water’s edge. There were many things on the docks, but fishermen were few and far between them.

  Smiling and nodding toward the occasional person who met my glance, I paved the way towards the gate. No one of substance lingered out here by the tavern and traveling wares. There were far better shops inside, and of course the customers up there had far more coin to blow.

  Just beside the gate, a tall uniformed man lazed against the wall. His eyes were hooded, and a serene smile stilled over his cultured features. He looked capable, but harmless. Likely too deep in the Nirvana Root to be of any threat to me. And yet his eyes followed me.

  The closer I came to the gate, the more exposed I felt beneath his gaze. It was the weirdest feeling. Unnerving, and yet exciting.

  He said nothing as I passed, which inspired a backwards glance that I wished I’d never taken. He, too, had turned to face my retreating form. His gl
ossy green gaze carried me to Blazian’s shop, where I disappeared into the back, bumping tables and sending spoons to the floor as I went.

  “Sorry. Sorry!” I whispered, holding my hands out in front of me and quickly righting things. Blazian stared at me like I had three heads. A knowing look passed from me, to the guard and then back again.

  With a rag still in her hand, she moved around the counter and started toward me.

  “What did you do to alert Ender?” she whispered, sliding into the other side of the booth. The rag travelled in slow, polishing circles across the top of the table.

  “Do? I didn’t do anything,” I whispered again. I started to feel silly with the hushed tone and cast a look over my shoulder. That Ender man hadn’t given chase; in fact, he was very much engrossed in the foot traffic around him. “I just arrived, is all.”

  Her eyes narrowed and sparkled. The assessment stretched for what felt like an eternity before she gave a superior nod and sat back a bit.

  “He is a good one. Do him right, and he will do you better,” Blazian encouraged. She slapped the table as if it had been a good talk and hauled herself back to her feet. “If you are ever in trouble, Ender is the one you call on.” She stared at me until I felt obligated to nod.

  Long before I saw her, I heard Reverie’s infectious laughter. It rang through the market like a burst of sunshine, brightening everyone and everything around her.

  “Chali!” she squealed, having almost walked right past me. She turned on her heel and hurried back. Her long slender arms engulfed me before I could scold her for the childish nickname. “How are you, love? I haven’t seen you in days… I declare! Blazian! Blazian sweetie, a drink. We must toast. It’s always a good day to celebrate with friends!”

  Her bubbly personality almost drowned me. I found myself shifting back in the seat, but it wasn’t far enough to escape the environment she held under her spell. I opened my mouth to speak but all that came out was a gasp and a laugh when Blazian slid the drinks across the table like they had been waiting on us all along.