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A New Dawn- Complete series

Page 58

by Michael Anderle


  Each of you, in your own way, are our coaches. Each of you are our cheerleaders and supporters. You exhort, you encourage, you push and you threaten to get out the pitchforks and matches.

  Then, you cheer us over the finish line!

  For some of us, it was a month of our lives to accomplish getting the story out. Others might be two or three months.

  A couple are a few hard, hard weeks.

  Either way, you are there to read the books on day one, post your reviews and invariably, as we rest our heads on the desk, our cramped hands in our laps hoping the ibuprofen helps release the pain from the marathon sprints to finish our words…

  You say, “That was a GREAT Read!” Then, we raise our weary heads to smile as the responses come in from the latest release…

  To then read the follow-up. “So, when is the next one going to be released?!?!”

  That is when we hang our heads back on the desk and weep.

  ;-)

  Ad Aeternitatem,

  Michael Anderle

  P.S. It really isn’t that bad (oh yes it is!)

  Dawn of Days

  Prologue

  Donna stared into the fading pinpricks of red as they dwindled and winked out. Blood dripped down her arm, sliding from the knife to her elbow and dripping into the dirt below.

  She wiped the blood from the blade and slipped it into its sheath before throwing the remnant back into a lifeless heap. A smile touched her lips.

  “I did warn you, dear,” she said.

  Her eyes turned down, and a frown marred her face as she noticed the mess. Casually, she reached up and ripped her dress, splitting the shoulder seam and yanking her sleeve off. She balled it up and wiped her arm before tossing it on the body in front of her.

  Donna turned away. The morning sun cast a long shadow in front of her, and she watched it as her eyes took on a glow of their own, turning white as a flawless pearl.

  A mumbled word escaped her lips as her shadow changed. It stretched taller, thinning to give her the figure of a lithe young woman. Then, it widened, her neck disappearing in folds of cloth.

  Finally, a long staff sprouted from her hand.

  Her small smile turned into a grin—not on her own face, but the false image she wore. Donna looked down and brushed off her new white robes.

  The ashen staff she carried had the weight and balance of a real one, and the blue of her dress matched her memory of the one she had seen on the Mystic Master.

  “Finally,” Donna said, looking about. “It’s time for the Master to return to her Temple.” A throaty laugh bounced through the forest. “They won’t know what hit them.”

  Chapter One

  A remnant charged at Marcus, and he aimed his rifle, pulling the trigger.

  Click.

  “Dammit!” he yelled. The close-growing trees in that part of the Madlands suddenly seemed to loom overhead, despite the dappled sunlight shining through the patchy winter foliage.

  Marcus tried the weapon again, then slapped it hard. A third pull still yielded no blast from the weapon. The remnant before him laughed and crouched low, ready to attack.

  Julianne swung her staff, feeling it vibrate as it thunked against the remnant’s skull. The brittle bone exploded, showering blood all over her clothes.

  Marcus twisted the rifle behind his back, fumbling to attach it to his belt.

  “Leave it,” Julianne said. “Unless you’re so soft you’ve forgotten how to fight without it?”

  “Soft?” Marcus called. He slid his sword out with a zing and took the hand off a nearby attacker, then spun to meet a second. That one dropped dead to the ground a moment later. “I’m not soft!”

  “Duck!” Julianne called as the one-handed remnant stuck its head up behind Marcus. “Bad move, buddy,” she said to the remnant as Marcus threw himself down to avoid her next strike.

  Staff met face, and teeth sprayed across the ground. The remnant howled in pain.

  “I ge’ yoo, bith!” it screamed.

  “Sorry?” Marcus said, a hand cupped behind his ear. “What was that? I can’t understand you… no teeth, and all.” He slashed upwards, piercing the remnant’s belly and spilling long, slippery strands of intestine all over the ground.

  The dead remnant crumpled, falling back as Marcus pushed it away from him with the toe of his boot.

  Artemis lurched up from his huddled position to lean over and vomit. He emptied his stomach, and sat back down.

  Marcus cocked an eye at him, then shrugged. “Yeah. It does smell pretty bad, doesn’t it?”

  Just the very mention of it made Artemis retch again.

  “Marcus!” Julianne chided, shaking her head. She passed Artemis her water, wincing when he looked at the glob of flesh stuck to the side and leaned over again. “Oops. Sorry. Maybe we should head back to the river we passed earlier.”

  Artemis pulled himself to his feet and lurched off back along the path without a word. Grabbing the reins two of the horses, Marcus followed.

  Julianne eyed Cloud Dancer. The horse stared back as if daring her to try and mount while still covered in blood and innards. “Fine,” Julianne said. “We’ll walk.”

  “You know,” Marcus said, tying the horses to a tree and pulling off his shirt. “There are less messy weapons you could use.”

  “What, and give up my staff?” Julianne said, dipping the white stick into the water and letting the gentle waves wash the stains away. She made sure to stay downstream from Artemis as he splashed water on his pale face.

  Marcus shrugged. “It’s your staff or your pretty blue pants.”

  Julianne snorted. “My pants are fine, nothing a good soak and a scrub won't fix.”

  She looked down, wondering if it was worth trying to clean them now. Blood, both fresh and old, had saturated the fabric. They were already becoming stiff—it would take hours to clean them out properly. She settled for wiping the worst of the mess off her boots with a clump of grass.

  “There must be a spell for that,” Artemis mumbled. “It would fall under the physical realm, of course… but if they had a way to target the organic material, and lift it…”

  Marcus shook his head as Artemis continued to ramble about the theoretical application of a magic he couldn’t cast. “Why is he with us, again?”

  “I need him,” Julianne said, patiently. “For a time, at least. If we don’t transcribe what he’s learned, it might be lost forever. And he’s learned a lot.”

  “You mean, he hasn’t written it all down already?” Marcus griped. He motioned at Artemis’s horse, loaded with leather bags that were stuffed not with clothes or personal terms, but piles and piles of parchment.

  “You’re not taking my work,” Artemis snapped, suddenly coming back to the conversation. “You’ll get those grubby fingerprints all over it!”

  Julianne sighed. “He won’t let us touch it without him there. So, we’re not only stuck with him, I’ll have to fund an escort to get him back when Bastian has the school up and running.”

  “Rude,” Artemis muttered, talking into the stream. “Talking about me like I’m not here.”

  “Artemis, I spent half the damn trip trying to make conversation with you,” Julianne pointed out. “You didn’t respond to a thing I said.”

  “Oh?” Artemis said. He grinned. “My meditation skills finally exceed your chatter!”

  Julianne rolled her eyes as she climbed onto Cloud Dancer’s back. “I know you love us, Artemis. That grumpy old man persona is all an act.”

  He snorted, then awkwardly mounted his horse. With Marcus leading, they set off through the Madlands.

  Chapter Two

  Marcus sat with his rifle across his lap, fiddling with it.

  “I thought you were going to ask Jakob to charge it before we left,” she chided.

  “I did!” Marcus protested. “And I tested it, too, so I know I put it back in properly.”

  “Maybe he did something to drain it by mistake,” Julianne mused.
>
  “There’s nothing to drain,” Marcus said, frowning. He held up the weapon, showing her the empty slot where the stone would normally sit. “The amphorald must have fallen out.”

  Julianne pressed her lips together. “Marcus, it can’t just fall out.”

  He shrugged. “Well, it’s not there now. And before you say, ‘I told you so’, I know using it as a club wasn’t the best idea, but every now and then it was needed.”

  Julianne arched an eyebrow.

  “Ok, maybe it wasn’t needed that often. Still, I’ve got my sword.” He grinned, patting the weapon at his side.

  “Sure, until you slap a remnant skull with it sideways and bend it out of shape,” Julianne pointed out.

  “Oh, come on. I only did that once!” he protested.

  “I rest my case.”

  They rode on, enjoying the morning sun that warmed their skin, even as a cool breeze trailed past, raising goosebumps on Julianne’s arms.

  “It’s going to be an early winter,” she said.

  Marcus nodded in agreement. “Bastian better hurry up and get his school running, if he wants you back for the opening. The roads will be impassable once the heavy snows start.”

  Julianne laughed. “Do you have any idea how much he has to do first? I’ll be lucky if he needs me back by next winter!”

  Marcus shrugged. “Throw up a few walls and a roof, right? It’s not that hard.”

  “He’ll need to build the schoolrooms and accommodation for the students that don’t live close by. He’ll also need kitchens and a dining hall to feed them. He’ll need to find teachers, draw up contracts, provide accounting to the Temple and Lord George to show how our investment is being spent.” Julianne spread her hands. “It’s hard work.”

  “Ok!” Marcus said, waving her down. “I get the picture. Lots of boring paperwork, and then throw up a few walls.” He winked.

  “You men,” Julianne replied. “Always—” she stopped when Marcus jerked up a hand and motioned for her to be silent.

  Julianne gently tugged the reins, pulling Cloud to a halt. Behind her, Artemis’s horse stopped, too, though more likely because it had taken cues from the other two. The old man could sit a horse alright, but paid far too little attention to guide it far.

  “I smell smoke,” Marcus whispered. “Jules, are there people ahead?”

  Julianne’s eyes turned white as she reached out with her mind. She shook her head. “No people, but I can sense remnant, I think.”

  Remnant minds were hard to feel, noticeable only because of the low buzz Julianne felt instead of the familiarity of a human mind. She tried to narrow down their location and numbers, but the odd sensation was too indistinct.

  “They're probably setting up camp,” Marcus commented. “We should be, too, but I don’t think it’s a good idea if there’s a horde of them this close.”

  “I agree.” Cloud took a few nervous steps, and Julianne leaned down to pat her neck. “So, let’s go clean them out.”

  “I had to fall for a girl with a death wish,” Marcus muttered with a heavy sigh. “Fine. Shall we go now, while we’ve got the element of surprise? I don’t want to give these bastards a chance to organize.”

  Julianne wheeled Cloud around and slapped her flank.

  “I guess that’s a yes,” Marcus said to Artemis. “You wait here. Back soon.” He kicked his horse into a gallop and followed Julianne into the remnant camp.

  Artemis watched them go, shaking his head. “And people say I’m the crazy one.”

  Julianne plunged through the bushes and emerged in a circle of remnant. Cloud Dancer reared back, kicking one in the face and pummeling it to the ground as Julianne reached down and smashed another in the side of the head.

  Marcus flew through, using his momentum to make a clean swipe at a remnant. Its head jerked to the side, now only attached to its neck by nothing more than some sinewy tendons on its back.

  “Three more!” Julianne called, pulling the horse around for another run.

  The first kills had happened so fast, the other remnant hadn’t had time to react. Now, however, they stood, baring teeth and grabbing nearby rocks to use as weapons. Marcus steadied his horse and gripped his sword tighter.

  One drew a rusty spear, raising it at Marcus. He didn’t see the big horse behind him plunge forwards. Cloud Dancer smashed the remnant to the ground and stomped on its head, crushing the skull with a wet splat.

  Marcus had slid off his horse already, and Julianne joined him on the ground, aiming for the ribs of a remnant that reached for Marcus’s face.

  It was a good strike. Julianne felt the crunch of broken bones and the squelch of damaged flesh. Still, the remnant whirled around to face her, mouth open to show corroded teeth behind scabbed lips.

  “You ruined my dinner, fucking whore!” it spat, seemingly unaware of the jagged bone sticking out of its chest, or the blood pouring from the hole.

  When it stepped forwards, it winced as it looked down. Seeing the wound only enraged it more. Julianne swung her staff, missing as the remnant ducked at the last minute.

  Without waiting, she spun, using the movement of her weapon to propel her around on one foot as the other raised in a kick. Her boot struck the remnant in the chest, pushing it back into the dirt.

  “Last words?” she asked, her boot pinning the remnant to the ground.

  “Fuck you,” came the gasping reply.

  Julianne took one hard, well-aimed swing, and the last remnant was dead. “You, too,” she said cheerily, leaning on her staff.

  “Could you at least try to look a little less smug, please?” Marcus asked. “Because if this keeps up, you’re going to end up a better fighter than me, and I don’t like that.”

  “Challenging your manhood?” Julianne asked. She sauntered up to him and leaned in close, pouting her lips.

  “That would be totally sexy any other day, but you’re covered in gore. Again.” Marcus stepped back, flicking off a tooth that had somehow landed on his shoulder. “Come on. I’m dying for a hot bath and some clean clothes.”

  They mounted their horses after Julianne gave Cloud Dancer a stern talking to for trying to shuffle away when she reached for the saddle. “Listen,” she said, pulling the mare’s head around. “I know it’s gross, but the sooner you get me home, the sooner you get a good wash and lots of treats. Ok?”

  Pulling herself up, Julianne ignored the horse’s disgusted shudder. “I swear, Mathias has been talking to you and putting ideas in your head, horse. Go on, git!” She nudged with her knees, and they slowly walked back to the spot where they had left Artemis.

  Marcus looked around, frowning. Artemis’s old horse was tied to a limp branch, but the old man was nowhere to be seen.

  “It’s like herding cats,” Marcus said as he dismounted.

  A trail of broken branches and flattened grass soon led to Artemis. He leaned on the ruins of a building, sifting through a pile of rubbish. Above him, a spread of crumbling plaster fell from the wall, scattering in the wind.

  The building was old—beyond old. Too-smooth walls eroded into cracked rubble, showing it was likely built even before the Madness.

  “Artemis?” Julianne called carefully.

  He ignored her, picking something out of the pile and holding it up to the light.

  “Marcus, that wall…” Julianne said, pointing just as another handful of fine pebbles tumbled out of cracks in the brickwork.

  These landed on Artemis, and the old man irritably flicked his head from side to side. He looked up, blinking, as Marcus started creeping towards him.

  Artemis looked back towards the ground, discarding the nearly-invisible filament to pick up another. This time, he held it up, grinned, then flicked the end.

  “Found one!” he yelled, jumping to his feet.

  The fast movement made him teeter, and he grabbed the wall for support. Marcus dashed forwards, yanking Artemis forwards. The old man fell to the ground with a cry as the ruined structure ru
mbled, then collapsed in a cloud of dust, sending larger rocks flying out like missiles.

  Marcus threw himself over Artemis as Julianne watched, helpless. Without thinking, her magic grabbed for Marcus’s mind.

  Are you hurt? she sent urgently

  There was a pause. She couldn’t reach past Marcus’s shields without forcing her way past. Marcus?

  I swear to the Bitch herself, if this man doesn’t have some kind of lifesaving information in that thick head of his, I quit. Marcus relaxed his shields, letting Julianne quickly reassure herself he was, indeed, unharmed.

  He grunted when Artemis suddenly started struggling beneath him.

  “Where is it? You fool, where is it?” the old man cried, scratching at the dirt.

  Marcus stood and brushed himself off. “Where’s what?” he asked with obvious exhaustion.

  “My thread!” Artemis scrambled to his feet and grabbed Marcus by the shoulders. “Do you know how hard they are to find?”

  Marcus raised an eyebrow and reached out one hand to pluck something from the bushy beard that had been shoved in his face. “You mean like this one?”

  Artemis’s eyes lit up, and he grinned, snatching the wire from Marcus and spinning around to examine it. “Yes! I found it!”

  Marcus coughed. “Who found it?”

  Artemis stormed away, calling, “If you hadn’t toppled a building on my head, I wouldn’t have had to find it a second time, would I?”

  Marcus opened his mouth, but Julianne grabbed his arm, shaking her head. You know you can’t win this, she sent to him.

  “Fine,” Marcus muttered, and set off through the long grass after Artemis. “But you can deal with him until we get through the Madlands. No—all the way to Craigston!”

  Julianne laughed. “Fine, but you owe me.”

  “I’ll give you the world,” Marcus said, raising a hand to his forehead dramatically.

 

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