Empire of Dirt: (Echoes of Fate: Book 2)

by Philip C. Quaintrell

  After Nathaniel left the cave, Asher placed a firm hand against Nasta’s chest and leaned in to his ear. “Do anything to get them hurt and I will remove your head myself.”

  With that, Asher collected the gem and exited the cave with Nasta. The tunnel was filled with the carcasses of dog-sized monsters and the smell of burning flesh. Like all the creatures that roamed under Nightfall, they were all teeth and sharp legs with very little to distinguish between head and body.

  “More are coming!” Nasta declared. “Follow me!”

  Asher had them follow his old master, with him at the back. The orbs drifted away and his extra senses kicked back in, relaying the dire environment through which they ran. Something heavier and larger was chasing them now. His ears picked up the sound of hard shells being crunched under foot. Whatever it was, it had just passed Nasta’s cave and ran over the bodies.

  More magic erupted up ahead, as something akin to a snake dropped out of a hole in the roof. Reyna blasted it with ice and launched another one into the wall. Nathaniel was hacking at it, but the princess’ spells were enough to ward the others away. Asher caught up in their wake and decapitated one of the slithering creatures as he ran by.

  In the pit it was impossible to keep a track of the time; only exhaustion gave the ranger any indication of how long they had been running. With Nasta still running as if he were a younger man, Asher couldn’t let himself fall behind, though he often reminded himself of the battle and the journey he had recently undertaken. More than once he had caught up with Nathaniel and grabbed him by the arm to pull him along. The knight had to keep up with the elves in order to stay in the light.

  After another skirmish with a cousin of the Sandstalkers, the group ran out of a cave and entered another, but for the briefest of moments the blue sky could be seen above, as they moved through the gorge. Faylen unleashed a telekinetic spell upon the cave behind them, collapsing the entrance and barring the monsters from following them.

  “We’re almost there.” Nasta said the words at such a level that only Asher’s extra senses could hear him.

  The eastern pass was easy to detect, if not for the light at the end of the tunnel, but the foul odour that dwelled in the cavern. The group crouched beside Nasta Nal-Aket, taking cover behind a collection of stalacmites.

  Nasta gestured to the floating orbs. “Send them out,” he whispered.

  The elves commanded the orbs to fly out into the cavern and bring light to its darkest corners. Due to the large opening, the ambiance inside the cavern was too light for Asher use his extra senses, but his human eyes found the monster easily enough. The orbs drifted high and revealed the tucked up legs of a creature the ranger had never seen before. The light disturbed it and the monster scurried down the cavern wall, exposing its hideous body and sizable bulk.

  “What is that?” Nathaniel wore bravery as if it were his only expression, but Asher could see the cracks. This was a monster no man should ever have to see.

  Nasta stroked his goatee. “Man cannot name what it has never seen. I have simply come to call it a bastard.”

  Asher could see that it had six legs and a thick body with no discernable head, but its tail was long and ended with three vicious prongs. The ranger examined his silvyr sword and wondered if it would be enough to slay the beast.

  “It is foul, no doubt,” Faylen stood up with little care, “but it is just another monster…”

  “Faylen!” Reyna hissed, but her companion was already striding into the cavern.

  Asher groaned and moved to join her. One last push and they would be free of the pit and rest would find them all. Decades of training in Nightfall hadn’t prepared him for much more than this.

  Reyna rushed out to fight with them and Nathaniel quickly followed with his sword ready. Nasta unsheathed Reaver and swung it round a few times to limber up. It had been a long time since Asher had seen the old man fight.

  The bastard reacted instantly and released an unnatural shrill of alarm. Asher braced himself, as its six legs projected it across the cavern with a speed that wouldn’t be stopped by any blade. Faylen was an elf of four hundred years however, and she wasn’t wielding any blade. She raised both of her arms and thrust the bastard into the stalactites above. The spell was so powerful that beast broke through the rock and dented the cavern roof.

  Then it fell back to the ground, Reyna was already waiting with a fire spell. Burning it didn’t stop the bastard from trying to get back up, however. Its four unbroken legs had it coming for the elves with a vengeance and a gnashing of teeth surrounding a thick tongue with a large sucker on the end. Faylen cast a spell of ice which had the monster’s tongue pinned to the ground with an icicle.

  “Asher!” Nasta’s call was too late to warn the ranger.

  A short-sword flew out of the darkness behind them, its tip heading for Asher’s head. Nasta stepped in and cut the sword down mid-flight with the flick of his bone staff. The blade careened away, but it was followed by a group of Arakesh.

  The bastard whipped its tail about and had the elves diving for cover in the same moment the assassins descended on them. The monster was screaming in pain and fury, its ire aimed at Faylen. The Arakesh paid it little heed however, and attacked only the group.

  “Give me the gem, Asher!” Alidyr entered the cavern with his magical blade in hand. “At this point a swift death is all I can promise.”

  Asher headbutted the closest assassin and threw him under the scurrying monster tackling Faylen. The assassin was trampled to death, as the elf danced about the bastard, firing spell after spell. The ranger allowed Nathaniel to intercept the next Arakesh so that he could remove the other short-sword from his back.

  “Together.” Nasta joined him.

  “No. Help them!” Asher shoved his old master away and ran for Alidyr.

  The two collided in a flurry of sparks, as the twin blades met one another for the first time in combat. Asher used his silvyr sword to take advantage of Alidyr’s exposed areas, always keeping him busy with the magical blade. After three days without rest and the wounds of a battle still plaguing his body, the ranger might as well have been fighting in a lake of mud. His attacks were sloppy and predictable, making it easy for the elf to evade his extra sword.

  Reyna’s bow could be heard over the melee, every arrow bringing an end to an assassin. Nasta weaved between the princess and the Graycoat, offering his deadly talents wherever possible. Had Asher not been in a fight for his life, he would have marvelled at the old man’s abilities; as it was, the ranger could only glimpse his extraordinary skills. Alidyr side-stepped his next attack and kicked Asher in the gut, throwing him further down the cavern, towards the light. They had all been pushed towards the light, with the Arakesh coming at them with relentless force.

  Only Faylen was stuck in the recesses of the cavern, locked in battle with the bastard. Her spells ignited the cave and created flashes of light that wiped away the shadows.

  “You can’t save them, ranger.” Alidyr push-kicked Asher to the ground. “You can’t even save yourself.”

  Asher wasn’t one for words; instead he roared in defiance and launched himself at the elf. His blades slashed in every direction, but found only Alidyr’s white robes.

  “Asher!” Nathaniel ducked and sliced his opponent’s gut before charging Alidyr.

  The third blade kept the elf on the defensive, but it only took a few evasions for the elf to land an elbow in the knights face, knocking him to the ground. Reyna was torn between helping him and helping Faylen. Asher wanted to send her to Faylen’s side, but if he wavered for just a second, Alidyr would claim his life. It mattered not, as two Arakesh set upon the princess and forced her towards the light, where the sea air was finally breaking through the bastard’s must.

  Nasta dispatched his attackers with apparent ease and moved to assist Reyna, while simultaneously dragging Nathaniel out of the way, before Alidyr could plunge his sword into his gut. Asher made sure he was between them, w
ith his companions and the light to his back.

  “Is this what you wanted?” Alidyr spat. “You wanted to fight me? It is only the skills that I have taught you that have kept you on your feet thus far.”

  Asher wiped the blood from his eye and blinked slowly. “You talk too much…” The ranger’s next swing was far too wide and too slow. Alidyr kicked him again before the swing could fall, sending him to the ground with another painful impact.

  The bastard screamed in the background and Asher caught a glimpse of the elf burying her scimitar into its hard shell. The monster’s outcry was quickly followed by her own screams, as its wicked tail curled about and speared her leg.

  “Faylen!” Reyna shouted over the melee.

  Asher was no longer watching Alidyr, who was only a few feet away and closing in with his short-sword. Instead, the ranger had locked eyes with Faylen, who had limped forwards and fallen to the ground at the back of the cavern. The bastard was dead behind her, but the elf could barely stand. Everything happened at once then, and Asher knew what was coming; he could see it in her eyes.

  The elf raised her hand and brought down the stalactite between Asher and Alidyr, separating them momentarily and giving the ranger a chance to escape. Her telekinetic spell didn’t stop there, however. Alidyr, caught off guard by the falling stalactite, was hurled backwards, into the cavern.

  “Run…” Faylen hissed. “RUN!”

  Alidyr was already recovering and heading back to Asher, when Faylen screamed her last spell, unleashing a powerful wave of telekinetic energy into the cavern.

  “NO!” Reyna yelled over the breaking of rock.

  Asher tried to pull himself up, intending to run back into the cavern, but a hand grasped the straps on his back and dragged him towards the light, away from Faylen. Reyna continued to scream in protest as Nathaniel pulled her back with both arms, careful not to trip over the dead Arakesh. The ranger kicked out and attempted to break free of Nasta’s grip, but there was no energy left in him.

  Alidyr ran for the light, seeing his own doom in the crumbling cavern. The smaller rocks were quickly followed by larger, immovable boulders and slabs that dropped to the ground. Within seconds, both Alidyr and Faylen were hidden behind a new wall of rock.

  “Quickly!” Nasta shouted over the collapse.

  The rest of the cavern imploded behind them, until they were back under the sky and the eastern pass was completely buried. The air filled with dust, pushing them further into the beach to escape its suffocating effects. Nasta released Asher, but the ranger couldn’t find his legs to stand, as all strength had finally left him. Reyna broke free of Nathaniel and ran back to the collapsed tunnel, her tears and screams all mixing into one.

  Faylen was gone...

  Asher knew that neither of them could have survived that, but he could take no solace in knowing that Alidyr was dead when it came at such a price.

  Nathaniel ran to Reyna and the two fell on their knees in a tight embrace. The knight cupped her head in his chest and let his own tears streak down his cheeks. Nasta walked away, towards the lapping sea, his own emotions impossible to tell.

  Asher pulled Paldora’s gem out of his belt and inspected it through teary eyes. Was it worth it? Was the gem worth Faylen’s life? He had the only weapon capable of stopping Valanis and he couldn’t use it. The urge to throw it into The Adean was overwhelming. He gripped the gem tight as new tears ran down his face, clearing the dirt and blood. No, he wouldn’t throw it away; Faylen’s life would have been for nothing then. Asher knew that if it was the last thing he ever did, he would learn how to master Paldora’s gem, and then… he would destroy Valanis.

  After a lasting look at Reyna and Nathaniel, the ranger let his head fall back onto the sand. He let go and allowed the empty abyss of his subconscious to take over his senses. Faylen’s face was the last thing he imagined before rest finally found him.

  38

  The Echoes

  The king of elves sat on his balcony and gazed into the sky, as he had done for most of the day. After his servants had dressed him in the finest armour, word had quickly reached him of the spectacle in the heavens above. Seeing Paldora’s star break its eternal cycle and reveal itself in the light of day had been a harrowing sight. Unlike the mortals of the world, Elym had seen the star soar through the night sky every century without fail.

  This wasn’t supposed to happen.

  The rest of his kin had seen the phenomenon, but their reaction had yet to reach him. Elym had spent his centuries as king convincing his people that the Echoes of Fate were not to be believed, and that his sister had been in her death throes at the hands of the vicious Outlanders. Time and time again he had been justified in his abandonment of the gods, as Paldora’s star continued to grace a starlit sky, but now…

  The king had been trying to recall every detail of that fateful moment when Nalana, his sister, had said the prophetic words out loud. He was still young at the time, and a very young ruler by elven standards, but he had commanded the current High Guardian to assemble his best warriors and accompany the new king into The Wild Moores, to search for Nalana.

  Elym’s frustration with his sister had always been trumped by his adoration of her. Not only a princess, but a Dragorn, Nalana was loved and respected by all who met her. Being a Dragorn however, Elym had been powerless to stop her from entering that wild forest. It had all been for the boy, Asher. At the time it had been believed that the young boy had fled back into The Wild Moores with Paldora’s gem, after escaping the battle of Elethiah. Of course, Elym knew the truth of it now.

  For days the young king and his warriors had scoured the forest of man. Elym had been sure his sister had already found the boy and doubled back, and would be looking for him in the new palace, in the Evermoore. She hadn’t. That wretched forest would be the last thing she ever saw. On the sixth day, Nalana had stumbled across the search party, covered in blood and sweat, her agony easy to see. Elym had taken her in his arms, while his escort spread out and prepared for any ambush.

  “Where is Tovun?” Elym had asked his sister, believing that had her dragon been present, she would never have come to such harm.

  Nalana groaned. “He did… not come. The council…”

  Elym had recalled that the dragons were in deep council to decide who should succeed Garganafan, who had perished in the Amber Spell. Of course, wherever Tovun was right now, he would be suffering the same wounds as Nalana; such was their bond.

  “Where have you been?” Elym had asked, tears running freely from his eyes.

  “I couldn’t find him,” Nalana croaked. “Asher…”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Elym remembered stroking her face and feeling how cold she was. “Valanis is vanquished. The gem no longer matters.”

  The warriors had closed in now, finding no threat in the area. They had all known that the wounds Nalana had suffered would be the end of her; even magic could not defeat what death had so obviously claimed.

  “I… found something. There’s more to… the Outlanders… than we thought.” Nalana’s face crumpled in pain. “I found the Echoes. The Echoes… of Fate.”

  Elym had looked to his High Guardian, but all the elves had worn the same expression of confusion. The young king had seen others on the edge of death and knew well that their final words could be unintelligible. He held his sister close and bade her to hush, hoping to give her a peaceful passage.

  “Valanis will return…” Nalana managed. Her crystal eyes glazed over and she took a breath, as if the princess was gasping for her last hope at life. “These favoured elves fall and lose their way, as man’s anger devours all dragons fire. The immortal man is set to rise, bringing the dark one closer to his most dangerous desire… Paldora’s Celestial gem graces daylight sky, and in its beauty ordains calamity. Only alliance and trust between two shores offers an intimation of hope and a glimpse of eternity…. Children of fire and flame offer great promise, but only one perceives the time we will fall.
As the gods recast their fortune and power, one will suffer the burden of destiny for all…”

  Nalana’s final effort robbed her of another breath.

  Elym had seen the impression her words had on his soldiers, as if the gods themselves had just spoken to them. The king had only wanted to hold his sister, the young elf unaware of the impact those words would have on his people. It had certainly made his task all the harder in the years to come, and Elym had no doubt that there were still those in his kingdom who held faith in the gods, but they hadn’t seen what he had seen that day.

  In the waning sun, as the group was preparing to depart The Wild Moores with Nalana’s body, they had been set upon by a band of Outlanders. Elym had been more than happy to cut them all down, his anger bubbling over, but the skirmish had been bloody and more violent than he had anticipated, resulting in the king being separated from the High Guardian and his warriors. Not far from where they had found Nalana stumbling through the trees, Elym had found the entrance to a cave, adorned with skulls and various animal bones on pikes. A typical Outlander home in his eyes. The cave however, had been filled with pieces of canvas, that upon closer inspection were in fact pieces of human skin.

  The nearest human leather had been stretched between two wooden poles and used as parchment. Elym’s command of the human language had been very basic, having only picked up some of their words from Nalana, but the writing on the skin was familiar. It was Echoes of Fate, scribed in blood and signed at the bottom with a black hand, like all the others. Those words were not from the gods, but from the humans. His sister had found the prophesy and had clearly been studying it, but they were not godly words, as his warriors had then believed.

  This scene had fuelled his own belief over the centuries that the gods were not real, that any god who could support Valanis or give prophetic words to savages was not a divine creator. Elym had kept his own findings that day to himself. He could not stain the memory of his sister any more than he already had. It had been a burden in itself to convince the elven people that her last words were that of the dying, and not to be misinterpreted as holy.