Embers of an Age (Blood War Trilogy) (27 page)

Cael traveled with Arrin, and those who had escaped the Hull ambush, but even then, Domor had sent the furious Sha’ree after his nephew. He hadn’t given it a thought until now. Domor had thought of nothing but his own life, his own safety, and yet his confession had done nothing to protect him. It was only a matter of time until Sultae captured or killed Arrin’s group—
and
Cael—and returned to slaughter Domor all the same. What purpose could she have with a cowardly Velen who would so willingly give up his own family for but a few more
extra
moments of
a pathetic
life?

What would Jerul think?

Domor sighed at the thought of his blood-companion. He, too, was amongst Arrin’s group and would feel the Sha’ree’s wrath once she found them. Jerul’s death would also be on Domor’s shoulders.
He reached out through the dim bond they shared, but only emptiness answered.

A chill drew him up short. He stopped and loosed a tired sigh.

“What is wrong?” Zalee asked, straightening as best she could.

He met her weary gaze. “I have failed everyone…myself, most of all.” Domor shifted Zalee and pressed her into a shadowed alcove, nearly hidden to the side of the
corridor. “Do you know the way
from here?”

She leveraged herself against the stone and nodded. “We have only to travel a little further before the halls split to the west and lead us to the surface.”

“And there will be Hespayrins between here and there?”

“A few, perhaps, but
we can draw them aside
—”

Domor gave her no time to finish. “Tell my nephew I am sorry, and Jerul, as well; my love to both. I have failed them
and can see only one way to balance the scales.”

He smiled and strode down the hall, leaving Zalee behind.

“Hespayrins!” he called out
as he neared the intersection
, his voice echoing through the stone corridors. “Come to me! I have slain one of your own and will do the same to you all.” A cold shiver pranced along his spine as he heard his hollow threat ring out, the darkness lending his voice strength for all his fear. He could hear the
shuffle of movement coming back to him, voices crowding out the silence. “Come!” His trembling hands closed into fists.

“
Domor
.”

He ignored Zalee’s muffled shout and went to the nearest intersection. “Come, Hespayrins! It is time for you to die.”

The sounds of movement grew louder, the replying shouts becoming gruffer, more violent. He glanced to the western tunnel and saw a small gathering of thick Hespayrins answering his call. Domor forced a laugh, challenging them, and darted into a
side
corridor, which ran the opposite direction. The scuffle of feet sounded at his back and he knew they’d fallen for his empty bravado.

He raced through the hall, slapping his feet against the hard stone to sound an easy path to follow. A broad man stepped from an adjoining hall and collided with him. Domor crashed into the wall, his feet slipping out from beneath him. The floor rose up to meet him as the deeper shadows of the Hespayrin eclipsed the light.

Domor
looked
to see more of the pale people running through the hall toward
him
. He recognized a couple as though who had filled the western corridor and smiled. They had fallen for his ruse.

He had little time to enjoy his success. A calloused fist crashed into his cheek, and stars exploded before his eyes. His thought
s
slurred inside his head
, numbing him and keeping him from feeling the remaining blows that rained down.

Domor’s eyes fluttered and
stayed
closed
.

“We had thought you dead,” spoke a quiet voice.

The words fluttered into Uthul’s ears as though carried on a breeze. He felt the subtle essence of another Sha’ree, which brought a weary smile to his lips. Uthul opened his eyes. “As did I.
” He
whi
spered a quiet thanks to Ree.

You have
not yet abandoned us
.

Uthul recognized the young girl: Marii. His
gaze met
her
pink eyes staring down at him.
A
swell of emotion wash
ed
over him at the sigh
t
as he thought of Zalee
.

“My daughter and the relic-bearers, have they come?”

Marii shook her head. “I’m sorry, elder, they have not.”

A weight settled over his chest as he lay back upon the cool grass.
Had they fallen
to the Hull or been turned from Ah Uto Ree?
Neither answer provided him with comfort. Uncertain of Zalee’s whereabouts, Uthul loosed a quiet sigh. He wished her well, but there was nothing he could do to aid her now. If she and the relic-bearers still lived, he hoped his daughter would guide them toward the desert and the last of the O’hra. The natural tenacity and knowledge of the bearers would have to do for that was the last of the available options.

He looked up at Marii once more. She
was fresh-faced,
with
no sign of the debilitating plague marring her soft features.
His heart thudded to a stop when he realized she stroked his forehead, her cool fingers sliding across the sweat-soaked, furrowed skin.

“No, child, you mustn’t
—”
He pressed against her hand to be free of it.

She pushed him down onto the cool grass. “The fever has broken, elder. There is no plague to
concern us
.”

Uthul sighed, settling under the pressure of her resistance.
“Thank you, Marii. I feared—”

“I know, as did we all when you were first found.” She motioned to the nearby
woods
.

Uthul rolled his head to see a number of his people massed amongst the tree line. Worry and uncertainty show
ed
upon their
lined
faces. Marii waved to them, the group advancing
with tentative steps
.

Uthul sat up. “Yet you risked your life to tend to me?”

“Would you have done differently, elder?” she asked with a shrug.

Uthul smiled, the weight of it coming easy without the sear of Ree’s essence careening through his veins. It fell away just as easily. “How long have I
laid
here, child?”

“We found you two days past. I have no idea how long you
were
here before then. You were strong with fever, but the sickness had already begun to move on.”

Uthul jumped to his feet, grateful form Marii’s helping hand as he stumbled and nearly fell.

“You must rest
,
”
she admonished.

He shook his head, regretting
it when
the motion
set
his vision
swimming
. S
harp spikes of agony speared his skull. “No, I cannot. The Hull are massing to attack.”

“The Hull?” another of his brethren asked as the
rest
came alongside. “He is still under the sway of the plague, Marii…delusional
, it would seem
.
Perhaps—”

Uthul turned to stare at the Sha’ree who’d spoken. It was
one
of the first generation of his people; Kalto’re
, born in glory along with Uthul
. “There is no falsehood to my words,” Uthul growled. “I have seen them with my own eyes. Send a
gatherer to the border
, if you must, but believe we are soon to be assailed.”

“What would that serve
them
?
What would it serve anyone?
”

Uthul could imagine no answer. “Their purpose is their own, Kalto’re, but do no
t
doubt their intent. They have swept the Velen and Yvir from their homes and are poised to do the same with us.
We must make ready.
”

Kalto’re broke into a broad smile.
“
At first you would have us wait for the bearers of stolen O’hra and train them in our ways, and now we are to prepare for battle
against the sub-races
? I fear you are still unwell, brother.
We’ve heard nothing from our gatherers
about an enemy on the march
, as we have never heard such a thing
.” There was a challenge in his voice that
translated
none of the warmth of his
broad
smile.

Uthul sighed at his brethren’s arrogance. “Is this what we’ve become in our time away from Ahreele?
Are we
now bickering children with no faith in one another?” Uthul shook his head, ignoring the pain that flooded it. “If the gatherers still live, then they are trapped outside of Ah Uto Ree, and you will never hear their warning.
However, they are most likely dead.
” Kalto’re readied to speak but Uthul waved him to silence. “I am only here
to warn you
because I rode
Ree’s blood.”

The crowd gasped
, the whole of them
taking a step away, in unison.

“You dare risk infecting us all!” Kalto’re shouted.

“The true death comes no matter my actions.” Uthul turned to address the rest of the group,
turning his back on
Kalto’re. “We know the source of the plague; we know we can defeat it, but we can only survive the battle to come if we are prepared. Without O’hra to bolster our abilities, the horde of Hull will bring ruin to
our land
.” He gestured to the western border of Ah Uto Ree. “What comes is not just an army of the stone beings, but the whole of the race. For whatever purpose, they have pressed toward our land with haste and
cruel intent
. We
are
surrounded
, with only the ocean at our backs
.”

One of the younger Sha’ree followed Uthul’s eyes into the distance, striking off a moment later. Several more went after. Uthul silenced the sigh that threatened to erode his aura of confidence. He knew what he stated was unimaginable to the Sha’ree. Not in all of their existence did any race dare challenge them,
let alone
attack them, but Uthul had seen that time pass. Whatever their
reasons
, the Hull had come for war. And where the Hull massed, Uthul had no doubt the
Ruhr would be nearby.

Kalto’re blustered at the departure of the young Sha’ree.
“Fools! Can you truly believe—”

“We can, and we must,”
Vilate said,
another of the
elders
, raising her voice to drown out Kalto’re. “The plague has shown that change is upon us. When even the Grol dares to cross our borders and steal from the graves of our dead, how can you not see it?”

Muttered
arguments
rose up
in heated voices.

Uthul shouted them all down. “Enough!
There is no time for bickering.” He gestured after the backs of the Sha’ree who had gone to confirm his words. “They will return with proof of my assertions
or
my foolishness. Either way, we must gather our people and
make
ready for war.” He turned to meet Kalto’re’s rigid stare. “If I am wrong, I will leave of my own accord, relinquishing the rights of Sha’ree.”

“And if you are right?” Vilate asked, casting her question toward Kalto’re.

Uthul dismissed her
implied
suggestion. “We are one, children of Ree, and we will live or die as such. For all his bluster, I have faith Kalto’re will do as necessary
for our survival
. We shunned our brethren during the plague, sending them to die alone in fear of what might happen to the whole, but we were wrong.
I
was wrong. Our children died for our fear.” His features softened. “Your child died, Kalto’re, for the choice we made, and I am sorry. If I could bring Sultae back, I would do so, but your animosity toward me serves the Sha’ree ill. Join with us and defend our land
, or, at the very least, stand and watch me fail again
,
certain it will be the last
time
I do so here among our people.”

Kalto’re glared at Uthul, his pink eyes shi
mmering with his fury, but at l
ast he relented. “We’ll know soon enough.” He spun and stormed toward the woods, a number of the Sha’ree
going
with him.

It was more than Uthul would have liked. His shoulders slumped as he looked to his remaining brethren.
They met his gaze with nods and grave smiles, but they did not leave his side. For that, he was grateful.