Embers of an Age (Blood War Trilogy) (26 page)

Once more Braelyn moved alongside him, Kirah joining them a few moments after seeing Cael to the
relative
safety of the group.

“How much further,” Kirah asked
, breaking the silence a short while later.

“
Only a little
beyond the lake,” Braelyn answered
quietly.

Arrin caught a note of hesitance in her voice.

Kirah caught
it
, as well. “Are you certain?”

“
Yes, I am, but I’m not sure this is the best path to take
.” She gestured toward the lake with her chin. “Near here is where I encountered the worst resistance. We
should
skirt the lake
a ways to
avoid t
he creatures that lurk within
.”

“Inside it?”
Kirah
asked.

Braelyn nodded. “Great tentacles with spikes the size of swords lashed out at me as I passed. I never saw the creature they belonged to, but I’m grateful for that.” She led their eyes with her finger, pointing a short distance from the shore. “There is where the worms flourish, their size and numbers much greater than those we have run across. We
should
go further around, but I fear we might stumble over s
omething even worse
.”

“Or there could be nothing
,” Arrin stated without excitement.

Braelyn shrugged, but they all knew the likelihood of avoiding further conflict was slim. To spend more time in the desert was tantamount to suicide. The direct route would be best.

As he stared off toward the looming lake and the wavering shadows beyond, a thought struck him. He turned to Braelyn. “You said you ran the entire way from the mausoleum to
Gurhtol and avoided the creatures?”

She nodded. “That is true, but these people cannot hope to reach the speed needed to slip past the beasts.”

“I was not thinking about them, only you.”

Braelyn looked at him, her eyes narrowing with her unspoken question.

“It is the sudden appearance of the creatures that is taking the greatest toll upon us. They appear and scatter our ranks and sow chaos.
That is when we lose the most lives.
Were we to know where they were, we could make ready and fight more organized, cutting our losses.”

She stared at Arrin a moment as if unsure of what he was asking. “You want me as bait?”

He shook his head. “Not bait. You know well enough you c
ould
return to the mausoleum with little trouble were you not saddled with us
. What I’m asking is that you do so,
and leave us a clear trail to follow
. The creatures will rise at your passage and we will be able to determine where they are and meet them prepared to fight.”

Braelyn let loose a hoarse chuckle. “You would
kill me
to avoid having to help me home, Arrin. Admit it.”

Arrin joined her laughter. “
If this fails
, we will be dead before you and will meet you on the other side.”

The smile still on her face, she looked off past the lake. She drew a line with her finger. “Follow that path after I’m gone, and push the people to run. The creatures might not stay on the surface
long enough for you to identify their positions.
I would be quite angry to die for nothing.” She looked back at Arrin and winked. “See you soon, one way or another.”

Braelyn darted off. Arrin wasted no time, waving the Yvir and Velen forward. “Run!” he called out as he started off, Kirah alongside.

The mausoleum would be an oasis in the desert. It was the end of one journey and the beginning of yet another, but within its dead halls
was the means to bring the chaos to a close and return Ahreele to a relative peace.

As he watched the twisted creatures of the desert burst from the sand
o
n Braelyn’s
trail
, he hoped he would
live
to see such a day.

It had been hours since Commander
Feragh called out to the Pathra
for a meeting with their chieftain
. H
e paced, fighting the impatience that curled his upper lip into a snarl. Smoke still rose on the horizon, casting a pall over the sky and staining the sky
black
. The acrid scent tickled his nose as he cast a glance at the
felines
who gathered across the river.

We could well have circled about the lake and engaged the Grol already
, Feragh mused as the passive
gazes
of
the Pathra met his frustrated stare
. He looked back toward Lathah and contemplated just that. Wulvren stood at ease behind him, giving Feragh adequate room to pace. The commander growled and went to the general’s side.
The thunder of racing hooves drew his attention before he could voice his frustration
for the fifth time
.

A sweat-slicked horse slipped past the ranks and charged toward
them
. Yards away, the Tolen rider leapt free and ran to stand in front of Feragh. The mount clattered to a halt
behind
, kicking up dust.

“The army gathers to the south
, commander
. General Horg is
at the head
,”
the messenger
announced
, his words tinged with excitement.

Feragh breathed a sigh. “
Excellent. Find a fresh horse and tell Horg w
e will join him soon. And tell—”

Wulvren cut in. “Commander.”

Feragh turned to his general and saw movement at the Pathran line. A mass of
feline warriors
streamed from the trees, led by a great orange cat. Feragh looked back to the messenger. “
Have Hor
g ready the men for battle and
await my orders.” He waved the messenger away and strolled toward the river
with heavy steps
.
General Wulvren clung to his heels, six Tolen soldiers breaking from the ranks to follow along.

Feragh approached the great cat
who
crossed the river with but a handful of his own soldiers, leaving the rest at the banks. Massive in size for a Pathra, he strode forward with confidence and unexpected grace. A lazy grin curled at his lips as his gray gaze settled on Feragh
.
He extended
his hand as they closed. Feragh took it in his own, the grip strong and steady. The commander returned the grin as their hands slipped apart. The Pathra had sent no politician to bandy words and offer promises. He stood before a warrior born.

“Greetings, my friend. I am Commander Feragh
.”

“Well met, commander. I am Quaii, warlord of the Pathran people.” He gave a subtle
nod
. “Thank you for
your
help with the Korme. Your arrival was well-timed.”

“Most certainly.”

“I have made arrangements for food and water for your men. My people will bring it to you soon.”

“That is qui
t
e
gracious of you, Warlord Quaii, but our
appetite
is of another kind. The Korme provided us with no sustenance.” Feragh’s grin widened. “We would
work with yours and
slake our
hunger
on the Grol.”

“Then you are too late, commander.”

Feragh glanced off toward the spires of smoke that still rose into the sky, then back to the warlord. “What do you mean?”

Quaii motioned beyond the lake. “The Grol loosed their magic upon our home
s
and set
them
ablaze, but
for some reason
they chose not to advance. When at last we thought they might, they turned tail and marched
south, the whole of them.”

The commander
’s
followed
to
where Quaii pointed
, his gaze
landing on
the distant shape of the Fortress Mountains. “They have returned to Lathah?” He looked back to Quaii.

The warlord shrugged. “I don’t claim to know the Grol mind, such as it is, but there was purpose in their retreat. They marched with haste despite us not once crossing swords.”

Feragh looked to Wulvren. “Could they have been alerted to Horg?”

“Doubtful,” the general answered without hesitation. “Horg would have scouts ahead of the legions, making sure no Grol spy picked out their approach.”

“Then they must have some other objective
. We must find out what it is,
” Feragh said in a quiet voice as he turned back to the warlord
, doing his best to hide his confusion
. “
Forgive my rudeness, warlord, but it is the Grol I seek. For them to turn tail after so much carnage, the beasts must be about an even fouler purpose. You are welcome to join us, but we must follow after before they succeed at their effort.”

Quaii nodded. “I have fires to put out, commander
,
and
my
people to see to. Go
on
ahead. We will join you
when circumstances permit
.”

Feragh proffered his hand
in answer
.
He smiled
as the warlord took it
. “Best of luck
then
,
friend, but don’t wait too long
, for there won’t be any
Grol left
.”

“Then you’ve done us a service.” The warlord bowed and slipped his hand loose. He gathered his men about him and said his farewells,
heading
back to the dens
e
jungle.

Feragh watched for a moment, only waiting unt
il Quaii was out of sight before h
e turned to Wulvren. “Draw the men in. We march with all haste to meet with Horg.”

The general was off shouting orders before the last word fell from Feragh’s lips. The commander looked to the south, excitement tingling in his veins. He no longer marched with a single legion against the Grol, but with a thousand. Once he took command of the army Horg had brought
him
, Feragh felt certain he could tame the wild beasts no matter the magic they hid behind.

Feragh
listened to the rumble of his men
as they drew closer, his pulse thundering
in time
. Battle was soon to come.

Every footstep
boomed
in the silence. Domor felt his heart shudder with
every
fall of his heel, certain his next would bring the Hespayrins
storming out of the darkness
to stop their flight. So far, none had, but still his breath clutched to his lungs.
Zalee hung
in his arms, little more than dead weight
now that the adrenaline of their escape from Illraine had worn off
. He struggled to
support
her, the Sha’ree’s slim figure deceiving. She was thick with muscle, her body like stone beneath the
soft, wounded flesh.

But for all her inherent strength, she had little of it now. Her skin oozed with blood and yellowed pus. Sultae had done her much harm before returning her to the room where Domor had been chained.
He looked once more to the layers of
cuts and bruises
a
nd burns that littered her body
and was surprised to see a few had begun to heal. Though there was little speed to their rejuvenation, the skin softening and pulling together in glaci
al movements, it was a miracle
she could
recover
at all.

Zalee’s
pink
stare drew his focus.
She forced a smile
, and whispered,
“I will be fine.”

Domor heard the hope in her words.
He had none. They were still deep inside Hespayr, lost in a maze of dark stone corridors, which
all
looked the same to Domor. While Zalee subtly led him at each intersection, he could feel no sense of them ascending from the bleakness of the underground city. The darkness seemed to swallow
them
, growing deeper and more threatening at every turn. He could foresee a violent end to their
attempted
escape.

Worse still was that he almost wanted one. His guilt weighed upon his shoulders, dragging him down even more than Zalee did. He had told Sultae all he knew of the
plans to meet the Grol with an army prepared with Sha’ree magic. Domor had even told her where the
group was
headed before her stony minions captured them. He wondered if escaping Hespayr was truly the best thing he could do. Only death awaited
him
,
in here or out there,
but it was no less than he deserved.