Redemption (Book 6) (22 page)

Kara grabbed at him, feeling a sudden mix of panic and grief. She couldn’t lose Torin. Not again. Her fingers swept the edges of his cloak, but she couldn’t seem to grab on to it, couldn’t pull him back.

The massive beast in the smoke growled again. The ground actually shook at the sound.

“Please,” Kara begged, “please, Torin, stay with me. Don’t go—”

“It’s not me you should worry about, little sister,” said Torin. He pointed ahead through the swirling smoke. “You need to save
him
.”

Kara looked.

Kendril was sprawled on the ground. His eyes were closed and he wasn’t moving.

The head of a wolf emerged from the smoke and fire. Its yellow eyes blazed like molten gold. Breath steamed from its mouth. Saliva dripped to the ground in and hissed like acid. It opened its mouth and howled.

Kara was paralyzed. She couldn’t kill that. It was too big, too obscenely powerful. It wasn’t even from this world. There was
no way
—

“Come on, sis,” Torin said again. “It’s up to you.” He pointed. “Look. The water is hurting it.”

Confused, Kara followed her brother’s pointed finger upwards.

The tall bell tower of a temple loomed directly above them. Water seemed to be raining down from the top, changing into long arrow-shapes as they fell. The drops splashed around on the ground all around Kendril’s prostrate form. Every time a splash hit the massive wolf-creature, it gave a great bellow of pain and rage and backed up a step.

Torin pointed again. “Don’t stop now, Kara. Look, the raven in the sea.”

Kara turned her head.

The flames were gone. The town was gone. Dark, black water stretched in all directions. Cold salt air blew into her face, tossing her short red hair into her eyes. Kara gasped at the sudden cold. She tried to peer into the churning water before her.

 “There,” Torin said. “Can’t you see the raven? He’s lost. You have to find him.”

Kara shook from the cold wind, as well as the salt spray that was already drenching her body. She scanned the surface of the black sea, feeling that renewed sense of urgency and desperation.

There
. A man. He was sinking, sinking into the tossing waves.

Kara cried out. She started forward and tripped. She threw out her hands, expecting to land in cold salt water.

Instead she landed in warm, golden sand.

She looked up, bewildered.

A sea of golden sand had replaced the dark ocean. The ship was gone. Towering dunes of drifting sand stretched in all directions.  A warm wind caressed Kara’s face. Stinging grains lashed against her exposed skin.

She got to her feet, sand falling off her clothes. The heat was intense. Above her head a blazing sun beat down.

Torin stood at the top of one of the dunes, a short distance away. “Find the raven, sis,” he said with a sad smile. “He needs you.”

“Torin—” Kara choked out. Her voice was dry and parched from the sand and wind.

“One is past,” Torin continued. “One is here. Two have yet to appear.” He looked up at the sun, shading his eyes. “To find the key, to stop all three, seek the raven lost in the sea.” He looked down, and pointed directly behind Kara. “Look, Kara. The shadow in the south.”

Kara turned, looking behind her.

The desert swept away as far as she could see. In the far distance, silhouetted against the horizon, were towering black pyramids. And there were shapes moving across the sand, black abominable things that seemed to be more shadow than alive. They crawled, scrambled, and lurched across the desert sand, a great mass of black terror. The smell of death and decay was thick on the desert wind.

Kara tried to scream, but couldn’t. She couldn’t move, couldn’t will her feet to run.

The black shapes, defying logic and reason, and resisting even Kara’s attempt to see them clearly, came right at her, a rising tidal wave of darkness.

Kara opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her feet were stuck, immobile.

“There,” came Torin’s voice from behind her. “The shadow is coming.”

The moaning, snarling shapes came at Kara. Shriveled hands reached for her, fingers clawed at her garments.

Still she couldn’t move, couldn’t scream. She could feel the claws of the beast-things tearing at her skin.

“Find the raven lost in the sea,” a voice said in her ear.

Kara woke up.

She sat up, her arms flailing. Someone was screaming. No, she realized with a start.
She
was screaming.

Strong hands gripped her shoulders. “Kara!
Kara
! It’s me, Joseph. You’re safe. You’re
safe
.”

Kara gasped for air. She looked wildly around her, trying to get her bearings.

She was in the hold of the merchant ship, lying on her cot. It was dark, probably still the middle of the night.

Slowly, as if expecting something terrible to erupt out at her any moment, Kara relaxed her body. She was trembling. Her face and arms were covered with sweat. She put both hands over her face.

Joseph let go of her shoulders. He sat down next to her cot. “There, you’re fine. Just a nightmare, that’s all. You were screaming and thrashing around to wake the dead. It must have been some dream you were having.”

Kara rubbed her hands down over her neck, feeling the cold sweat that still clung to her. “No,” she whispered. “Not a dream.”

Joseph leaned back. “What then?” he asked softly. “Another vision?”

Now that she was awake, Kara began to shiver from the cold night air. “I...don’t know. Yes. I think.” She looked up at Joseph with plaintive eyes. “Oh, Joseph, these dreams are so real, but I don’t understand half of what’s in them. I feel like it’s something on the tip of my mind, something that I need to understand, but I
can’t
.”

Joseph put a hand on her back, and gently massaged her shoulder. “I wouldn’t worry about it, Kara.” He gave a shrug. “Sometimes dreams and visions are best left unanalyzed.”

Kara looked over at him. “But these dreams are so vivid, so real. They
mean
something, Joseph, I know it.”

“Well,” said Joseph with a sigh, “I suppose that’s true enough. We’ve trekked halfway across the known world based on a vision of yours.” He lowered his voice. “I guess what I mean is that a vision, if it’s real, will be made clear in the moment that you need to act on it. Trying to figure it out before hand won’t do too much good.”

“I saw Redemption burning,” Kara said, her voice still shaky. “And then my brother was there—”

Joseph raised his eyebrows. “Torin?”

“Yes,” said Kara. She furiously blinked back tears before they could form. “He was there, and Kendril was too, and Kendril was hurt, and there was some kind of terrible beast—”

“A beast?” Joseph asked with a frown.

“Yes.” The words flowed out of Kara like water from a broken dam. “And then there was a sinking ship in the water, and I was told to save ‘the raven lost in the sea,’ and then a desert—”

Joseph held up both his hands with a quick smile. “Whoa, Kara. I feel lost just trying to follow what you’re saying.”

Kara smacked her fist down on the cot, making the blankets jump. “See? That’s just it. It’s all nonsense, but it all means something too. I just need to figure out
what
.”

“Wait a second,” Joseph said, “you said something about a raven in the sea, didn’t you? I heard you mention it before, too, when you first came out of the coma.”

“Yes,” said Kara. Her hands still trembled slightly from the nightmare.

“Well,” said Joseph slowly, “the man we met back in Shawnor, I remember he called Kendril ‘Lord Ravenbrook.’”

Kara’s eyes widened. She opened her mouth to respond.

A call came from above decks. The ship turned slightly, the wooden sides creaking as water slapped against them.

Joseph and Kara looked at one another for a moment, then both bolted for the stairs.

Outside on the deck of the ship the night wind was cold and fierce, cutting over the black water like an icy knife. Waves smacked and crashed against the bow of the ship, sending white flumes of spray over the wooden deck. The sky above was dark with clouds. Rain hissed perpetually onto the deck.

Another call came from one of the sailors from up in the rigging. “Land ho!”

Kara rushed to the railing of the ship, pulling her green cloak around her against the cutting wind.

Joseph came up beside her. He pointed towards the east. “There. See it?”

Kara peered into the slicing rain and howling wind.

A line of dark land was just visible on the horizon.

“Jothland,” said Joseph. “In a couple hours we’ll be in Redemption.”

They watched the coastline drawing closer for several minutes. Despite the raging wind and relentless rain, neither moved from the railing.

Kara frowned suddenly, her eyes still on the horizon. “Is it dawn already? How long was I asleep?”

Joseph scanned the distant orange glow that was appearing on the horizon. “That’s not the sun,” he said ominously.

“What is it, then?” Kara asked. She knew the answer even as the words came out of her mouth.

Joseph put both hands on the wet railing. “Trouble.”

Chapter 13

The landscape was lit by fire.

Flames burned to the north and the south. The remains of a nearby watchtower crumbled into fiery debris, sending up a cloud of embers and sparks. Bodies, both of the Jombards and the dragoons that had been manning the Wall, littered the ground. Rain continued to spatter down out of the cold night sky.

The Wall had fallen. It was finally finished. Over a century of oppression had been destroyed overnight. The Jombards had broken through into the civilized lands of the peninsula. Thousands of warriors were pouring through into the forests and fields. Already the horizon was filled with the flames of burning farms and outlying settlements.

The Great Fang stood on the remnants of the Wall, and breathed in the smoke and tang of blood as if was a summer breeze. He gave a predatory smile, enjoying the howls of the victorious Jombards and the wailing of the female priestesses as they offered up praises to the Seteru. Even the cries of the wounded and dying that filled the night were balm to his ears.

Already there had been much blood and slaughter tonight. Harnathu would be pleased.

But it was not yet over. The Great Fang would not stop, not until he reached the fort the colonists called Stockade, and then on to Redemption itself. He would make of it all a pile of ashes and blood, an offering to the Seteru.

And then, when he finally stood on the beaches looking out upon the Strait of Jagara, he would build ships for his men, and lead them on to the West, across the great waters and to the continent of Rothland. Arbela would fall, and Calbraith, and Badera and Merewith. Places that were just names on a map to the Fang and his people, cities he had seen only in his dreams and nightmares.

The people of the West would all die. The Great Fang would rule supreme over the whole continent of Rothland. It was his destiny, his great promise. He would build a towering temple to Harnathu on the bones of his fallen foes, would offer blood and fire to appease the dark god of slaughter and war.

But first he had to find the man called Demonbane. Find and destroy him as an offering to Harnathu, an offering to show the Seteru his worth.

Filled with the thrill of victory and invigorated by the sight of carnage, the Great Fang threw back his head and gave a rousing howl. He reached towards the Soulbinder that hung around his neck. The gem was warm. It glowed softly like a pulsing red heart.

The Great Fang smiled. The blood and death that surrounded the ancient relic was stirring it to life, making it remember its true purpose.

Soon, soon, the veil between this world and the Void would be shattered.

“Master.” Odgar emerged from the darkness. He, unlike most of the other tribe chieftains, had not yet drunk of the wolf-blood.

“Rise, Odgar,” the Great Fang said. Like Odgar, he was also still in human form. A greater gift awaited him, a blessing that would manifest itself only when the Soulbinder had achieved its full potency.

“There are prisoners,” Odgar said.

The Great Fang frowned. “Then the men did not heed my orders. Did I not say that all were to be killed without mercy?”

“Yes, O Fang,” Odgar replied. He looked up at the war lord. The expression on his face was almost anxious. “One of the men...he killed one of the Chosen.”

The Great Fang snapped his head in the direction of his lieutenant. “Bring him to me,” he growled. “Kill the rest.”

Odgar bowed even lower. “Yes, Great Fang.”

The Great Fang continued to growl softly even as Odgar turned and left.

“Well,” came a sultry voice from behind him, “perhaps your great wolf-men are not as invincible as you thought, Great Fang.”

“Bronwyn,” the Great Fang snarled, uttering her name almost like a curse, “your words come close to blasphemy.”

Bronwyn gave a small, confident laugh. She stepped beside the war chieftain, her body like a reed compared to his massive bulk. “I am a loyal servant of the Seteru, Great Fang.” She looked up at him with an innocent smile. “As you are.”

“The nations of the West will fall like rotten fruit from a tree,” the Great Fang intoned. “Look.” He swept a massive hand over the fires that burned as far as the eye could see to the west. “It has already begun.”

Bronwyn folded her hands behind her back. “There is a good deal of water between here and the nations of the West, O Fang. And the Jombards have never been keen sailors.”

The Great Fang smiled. “Harnathu will lead us. You will see, Bronwyn. This is only the beginning.”

“And what,” asked Bronwyn with a raised eyebrow, “of the Demonbane?”

The Great Fang grinned. “I will find him and devour him. His death will be sweet incense to the Seteru.”

“You don’t know the Demonbane,” said Bronwyn quietly. “Not like I do. You should not underestimate him. If any man will stop you and your warriors from crossing the sea to the West, it will be him.”