Honourbound: A Progression Fantasy (Surgecaller Book 3)

by Todd Herzman

  When they exited the arena, the earth shook again. This time, even worse than before. Huon, as he’d been sprinting, missed a step and smashed right into the cobblestones on the street. His face slammed into the ground. Blood poured from his nose—he surged stamina instantly to fix it, getting back to his feet feeling like a fool.

  Sir Galen helped him regain his footing—though Huon didn’t strictly need the help, he appreciated it.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Sir Galen said. ‘There’s no way that army can break through the walls—’

  Another shockwave hit, and a roar pierced the air. Inside the arena, Huon hadn’t realised how loud it was out here. The battle could be heard even this far away. He looked over to the wall—

  It had been torn in half. The metal, no doubt reinforced with immortal essence, had been torn.

  Huon pointed, his finger shaking.

  A giant hand tore at the metal.

  Huon blinked, not believing his eyes.

  More of the wall was torn down. Behind it, stood a massive surgecaller—as tall as the wall itself—wearing Honourbound armour that glowed blue.

  Huon knew that armour—he’d seen paintings, drawings, statues.

  The Everlasting King.

  Chapter 20

  Huon was frozen, staring at the massive figure of the Everlasting King.

  That… that was impossible. He’d never heard of a surge that could make someone grow—especially not like that. Huon stumbled backward—the shockwaves they’d been feeling, the earth rocking… it hadn’t been earth surges, had it? It had been this.

  It must be some new technology—some beast of science the man has created. Whatever it was, it was powerful.

  And it meant they were running out of time.

  ‘Gods,’ Sir Galen breathed. ‘What is that thing?’

  ‘That armour… it’s the same armour the Everlasting King wears. Whatever that thing is, he’s controlling it.’ Or it is him, and it was a surge that made him able to do it…

  The Everlasting King was surgeless. He had no power of his own—all the power he’d gained was through the devices he made. The surge-gems, soulthief, Core armour… he’d stolen his power from others.

  But that didn’t make his power any less real.

  Huon tore his gaze from the giant surgecaller to look where the city’s stragglers were going. But the streets were quiet—dead silent. In the time it had taken them to search the arena, whoever had been lingering on the streets must have made it to safety.

  Safety, Huon thought, not sure anywhere is safe against that.

  The walls had already been breached. The battle hadn’t gone on a full hour and the walls had already been breached.

  ‘Where do we go?’ Huon asked.

  Sir Galen surged strength. He leapt into the air, landing astride Snow. He patted the beast’s head, then whispered something into her ear. ‘Snow can surge smell. She’ll find anyone nearby.’

  Huon nodded up at the boy. Shurie’s eyes had widened when the wall had been torn asunder, her feathers aflutter. Huon went to her. ‘Shurie, you have to go.’

  The bird chirped, staring at him.

  Huon scratched under her chin. ‘Fly somewhere safe, somewhere far away from here. You’ve found me before—you’ll find me again,’ Huon said, thinking, If I make it out of here alive.

  Shurie’s gaze travelled back and forth between Huon and the giant surgecaller, than she chirped again, bobbed her head, and extended her wings.

  There wasn’t any time for Huon to watch her fly away.

  ‘This way!’ Sir Galen called.

  Huon glanced back at the wall as he ran after the young Knight down the streets of Caralor.

  This war… there was no way the Everlasting King would lose.

  And he wouldn’t stop in Arisalon.

  He hadn’t expanded his empire in hundreds of years… no, he’d been biding his time, gaining strength, waiting until he knew he’d have an overwhelming victory.

  Is he as powerful as a Celestial? Huon wondered as he ran. But it didn’t matter—his ultimate goal wasn’t important right now. All he needed was to find Liona, and escape out of here alive.

  ~

  Huon ducked as he stomped down the stairs, entering the fourth underground bunker they’d found—the other three hadn’t let them in, their doors already closed, fearing the enemy might have already entered the city. They probably have, Huon thought.

  When he entered, he found that—apart from the single guard at the door and the elderly—he was the oldest one here. Some of them eyed him curiously, then a girl—perhaps ten years old—stepped up to him. She pointed at him, finger striking the air like a sword thrust. ‘I know you—you’re Huon the Weak.’ She turned to the people around her. ‘He’s an outsider—one of them!’

  Huon blinked, taking a step back as everyone in the bunker faced him, their eyes narrowing. It was mostly children down here—but he knew that many of those children would be Knights, especially the teenagers.

  Sir Galen stepped in front of Huon. ‘He’s not the enemy! He hates the Everlasting King as much as we do.’

  ‘Oh, yeah,’ a one-armed elderly man croaked. He stepped forward, and despite that his legs were skinnier than anyone else Huon had ever seen, he had strength in his stride.

  He’s probably a Champion, maybe even a Legend—he could be surging. The elderly here, he knew, could fight. But that didn’t mean they should. At least, if the enemy were to make it down here, they’d be a last line of defence to protect the youngest citizens of Caralor. If the enemy makes it this far, fighting won’t do them any good.

  Sir Galen took something from within his martial arts robes. It was… a wooden circle? Huon frowned. No, it was more than that—it was imbued with essence, though Huon couldn’t tell what type it was.

  ‘This is the seal of house Helayn.’

  ‘Helayn…’ The old man stepped back. ‘Sister to the queen.’

  Huon blinked again, staring at Sir Galen once more. His mother was… the queen’s sister? Sir Galen was royalty? Huon had no idea what the implications of that were. He still didn’t understand the distinction between nobility and royalty—all he knew was that the queen was probably the most powerful person in Arisalon.

  And Sir Galen was her nephew.

  If the queen is his aunt, why hasn’t he gone to her? He said he had nothing—that everything was torn away from him. If he truly was the queen’s nephew, perhaps there was bad blood in the family. He’s never even been to Caralor—he may never have met the woman. Huon held his tongue—now wasn’t the time to question the boy.

  The children scattered, and the elderly man walked forward. This time, his strides didn’t look half as strong—his core must have been close to depleted, and his natural strength wouldn’t be what it used to be. ‘Do you need an escort to the palace, Sir Galen?’ The man bowed. He wore frayed, martial arts robes, and his hair was as white as a cloud.

  Sir Galen shut his eyes a moment. ‘Thank you, old man, but I am not going to the palace.’ He motioned to Huon. ‘We’re looking for someone. A young woman—an outsider, like Huon.

  The elderly man looked Huon up and down. ‘There are more of you, are there? I trust Sir Galen at his word, but you have some nerve, walking in here right now.’

  Huon lowered his head. He bit the inside of his cheek, a great fury rising up in him. This man thought of him as the enemy—but he wasn’t This was not his war. He didn’t want to hurt anyone here—the only people he wanted to hurt were those who allowed the Everlasting King to come into power.

  The Immortal Seven.

  And Blaze, in particular.

  Huon let out a breath. There was no point going on a tirade against the old man. Anything he said wouldn’t matter—convincing this man that the soldiers breaking through his city’s walls were fighting against their will wouldn’t change anything.

  ‘Have you seen an outsider woman—a teenager
, about his age?’ Sir Galen bobbed his head at Huon. His composure was… perfect.

  Suddenly Huon wondered what kind of training he’d referenced. He hadn’t realised training to be a surgecaller could make one… so resistant to the pain of loss. He’s not resistant to it. He’s just doing what needs to be done.

  Huon cleared his throat. ‘Her name is Li—’

  ‘Liona, yes, I know. I was there, at the arena—there were few in the city who weren’t.’ The old man shook his head. ‘She’s not here, but I know where she will be.’ He stared at Huon with half-lidded eyes. ‘She’s an outsider, young man. What do you think happens to outsiders, when their country attacks? She’s not in one of these bunkers, boy. She’s in the queen’s dungeons.’ The elderly man bowed once more at Sir Galen, then he turned away from them, walking back to sit on a bench by the wall.

  The queen’s dungeons? Huon thought. The warden had said them being a part of the arena meant they were citizens of Arisalon… Not when it counts.

  ‘In or out,’ the guard who’d let them in said, as they were still standing in the doorway.

  Huon looked at Sir Galen. Now was the time to ask questions. ‘You’re the queen’s nephew? Can… can you get her freed?’

  Sir Galen hung his head. ‘I… I don’t know.’ He stared Huon in the eye. His face looked dark. ‘My mother… the queen and her, they weren’t exactly loving sisters. I’ve never even met the woman.’

  ‘But that’s why you came here, wasn’t it? Not just because it was somewhere safe, but because you have family here?’

  ‘If I go to the queen, she’s just going to want to protect me. She isn’t going to let me leave the queendom with you.’

  Huon frowned. ‘She is if she thinks the queendom is doomed. She’s going to want you to escape.’ Huon wasn’t exactly sure of that—it wasn’t as if he knew the queen. But in his head, it made sense.

  And surely, the queen would have realised this war was unwinnable. Will she even be in the palace?

  The earth shook. The Honourbound giant must have been on the move again.

  ‘I’m closing the door!’ the guard shouted, getting their attention. ‘Move, or be moved.’ He looked at Sir Galen. ‘I don’t care who you are, right now, it’s my job to keep these people safe.’

  Sir Galen set his jaw, then nodded sharply. ‘We’re going to the palace.’ He left, Snow ducking under the low entrance behind him, only just fitting through the gap—fortunately, the tunnel was wider than it was tall, and the wolf was able to make it in and out. I suppose they didn’t account for beasts when they designed this place.

  The massive metal door closed behind them, a sharp click sounded from the other side as it was locked. Huon, Sir Galen and Snow made it up the stairs.

  And found the streets of Caralor had become a battleground.

  Chapter 21

  ‘Run!’ Huon yelled, taking the young Knight by the hand as an Honourbound soldier sprinted at them. It was strange to be—roughly a week later—on the other side of this war. I don’t want to be on any side of this war.

  Sir Galen didn’t take the time to jump on Snow. The three of them sprinted through the streets, dodging fireballs and ice shards, leaping over earth sprouting from the ground. Surgecallers from Arisalon jumped in to defend them as they ran, and Huon was eternally grateful that they did.

  He’d seen the palace when he’d first entered the city—it was the tallest structure in Caralor.

  Huon took the lead, triple-surging speed. This wasn’t the fastest he’d ever run—he could no longer surge Champion-level essence—but it was the fastest he’d ever run with Knight-level essence. Every moment they wasted was another moment they might get caught or killed—another moment the palace might fall.

  Should I have come here? Sir Galen might be the queen’s nephew, but that didn’t mean they’d just let him in to the palace during a war.

  Huon gritted his teeth. There was no time for second guessing. He was here now, and he was one step closer to finding Liona.

  There was less fighting near the palace—the surgecallers, despite no doubt being surprised by that giant Honourbound soldier, seemed to be holding off the enemy from getting too close—at least, they were for now. Huon didn’t look up—didn’t look at the wall. He still felt the shockwaves reverberating through him, the thud of that giant Honourbound soldier’s steps crashing into his ears. But he didn’t want to see it. That wasn’t his fight.

  How many Immortals does Arisalon have? Are they able to fight such a thing?

  When they made it to the palace, Huon stopped and stared at the massive metal structure.

  It was completely surrounded by walls, its towers only visible from outside because they were so tall. There wasn’t time to take the palace in, but he knew he could stare at it for a couple of minutes before he’d covered every inch of it.

  The gates, of course, were closed. Huon couldn’t see any guards, but there was a guard tower by the palace gates.

  ‘Do you think anyone’s inside?’ Huon asked. Could be they were all in the battle. Or they’d retreated into the palace.

  ‘One way to find out.’ Sir Galen approached the guard tower, waving his hands at the slits—slits that arrows, fireballs and other projectiles could no doubt fit through.

  ‘I am Sir Galen of the Forest City of Landor, son of Lady Helayn, nephew to Queen Gelana.’

  Gelana. It was the first time Huon had actually heard the queen’s name. Then again, he didn’t know the Everlasting King’s name, either—nor the real names of the Immortal Seven. They couldn’t have been born with names like Blaze and Aqua…

  He snapped his mind back to the present as the tower door opened. A grizzled old guard stepped through. He looked old for a surgecaller, but still immensely strong. Legends rarely looked their age, considering they could surge their essence to stave off the effects of aging—but this guard looked like he’d reached Legend later in life. The guard eyed them up and down. ‘And what proof do you have of your claim?’

  Sir Galen produced the seal, holding it out in his right hand.

  The guard’s eyes widened briefly, then he waved to the guard tower’s window. ‘Bring it up, fast now!’

  Huon surged breath, lest he sigh loudly in relief. He’d been worried the guard would ask to see his binding—the explanation they’d used before he doubted would work again—especially as they were trying to get into the palace now, not just the city itself.

  The guard nodded at Sir Galen. ‘The queen will be glad to see you alive. I’ll take you to the palace stronghold.’

  Sir Galen swallowed. ‘Is she in the palace?’

  The grey guard shook his head. ‘She’s in the battle.’

  Huon bit the inside of his cheek as they stepped through the gates. ‘We’re looking for someone.’

  The guard turned to him, raising an eyebrow, then he faced Sir Galen. ‘Who is this? Your retainer?’

  Huon’s forehead creased. Retainer. He was not a servant, not a slave—not anymore.

  ‘He’s my friend,’ Sir Galen said. ‘And he’s telling the truth—we’re looking for a young woman named Liona. She’s an outsider from the Justice Arena. We were told she’d be in the dungeons?’

  The guard stopped in his tracks. He fully faced the two of them now, a hand on the hilt of his sword. He eyed Huon carefully. ‘Sir Galen, are you sure you aren’t under duress? I can dispatch this friend of yours.’ His vision seemed to pierce right through Huon. ‘He doesn’t look like he’s from around here.’

  ‘He’s not from around here—but he’s an enemy of the Everlasting King. Now, please. Take us to the dungeons.’

  The guard’s gaze lingered on Huon. He nodded stiffly, then started walking once more.

  Take us to the dungeons. Worry pierced Huon’s stomach—what if he left him there? The guard could turn on them in a moment—gods, there was a chance the guard might lock Sir Galen in the dungeons as well, with the excuse o
f ensuring his safety during the battle.

  Huon tried to examine the man with his perception, but of course he was veiled. There’s no way he isn’t a Legend—they wouldn’t let just anyone guard the palace.

  How in the world could they fight a Legend? He threw those thoughts away, pushing them back as hard as he could. There was no point worrying about worse case scenarios—especially considering they were already in one.

  She better be down there.

  ~

  The guard led them down long, circular stairs made from stone. The stairs were massive—wide enough to admit Snow, though the guard insisted she be left at the top of the stairs. Huon was surprised to see much of the inside of the palace was carved from old stone, rather than metal. Though he remembered looking at the city’s buildings—many of them were being knocked down, while others were being built. Perhaps this penchant for metal had been something from more recent years, and the stone within the palace was a remnant of times past.

  Huon trailed a hand along the wall. He preferred the stone. It was closer to being in a cave—something he’d grown used to over the years, something that had become a comfort. The metal walls had just been… cold, uninviting. The stone, however, had feeling to it—character.

  The guard didn’t appear to be in a great rush. If Huon had his way, they’d be sprinting down the circular steps.

  Once they’d passed the third level down, it finally seemed to be the last. The guard raised a hand, surging a fireball to hover over his palm. It was dark down here—none of the wall sconces were lit.

  The walls rocked slightly, dust falling from the ceiling. Sounds from the war were even penetrating all the way down here.

  ‘Any outsider prisoners would be kept right at the back,’ the guard said, pointing down the hall. ‘But this is the last place you should be, Sir Galen. Were the queen here—’

  ‘The queen isn’t here. Need I remind you to remember your place?’