The Phoenix King: The Thunderheart Chronicles Book 2 Page 11

Jeremiah stood and left the room. Lief felt vulnerable with the stranger on his left and no protector at his right.

  “This is pointless,” Borin said. “Aidan and Aaliyah are our best hope. If they can pull off a miracle with that egg we may have a fighting chance. If not, I and my amoghs will do our best to plan an assassination, but I can already tell you we’ll all end up in the ground.”

  Bartemus shook his head. “There’s no point in sacrificing our greatest warriors. My sorcerers should be the one to kill Malcommer; you can handle his council.”

  “That’s pointless. Malcommer has killed more sorcerers than anyone, and he’s surrounded by amoghs. You wouldn’t get within ten feet of him.”

  “Or we could just run away,” Malachi said.

  Everyone stopped to turn to the warlock. It was believed that Malachi had lost part of his mind during the Great Wars. He had an odd habit of blinking one eye at a time that made it unnerving to talk to him for long periods.

  “Of course,” Borin said, “the sorcerer would suggest running from battle.”

  “Actually,” Lief said, “that’s the most sensible idea I’ve heard all day. Tell us, Malachi. What do you have in mind?”

  The old bearded warlock whispered a few words, and a map of Gurvinite was displayed on the table.

  “Malcommer comes from the north. The elves and dwarves will not allow us to flee to their continents, but with a large enough force we could go south. Across the ocean, to the islands of Misehlos. There we can train and prepare for battle, then return to the two southern cities when Malcommer is not expecting it.”

  Lief turned to Bartemus. “Would that work?”

  The warlock nodded. “We have it all planned out. If Aidan does not return soon with a hatched Phoenix, then we will allow free passage to Misehlos using several merchant ships. Timothy Ashdown’s father owns a fleet large enough to bring most of the northern population in three trips. We can clear out the smaller towns and villages with griffin patrols. Venorice and Mawrick will be defended enough to survive until we can reinforce them from the ocean.”

  “What about the sea serpents and the other beasts of Misehlos?” Borin asked.

  “My relationship with the dragon riders is growing stronger. They won’t fight for us, but they might just flee with us if they believe the threat is great enough. The dragons can keep the serpents away long enough for us to get to Misehlos. Once we get there it may be a different story. The islands have been unpopulated for a century. Nobody really knows what’s down there.”

  Lief sighed. “It sounds risky, but evacuation is the best plan we have. Unless someone can give me something better in the next few minutes, I’m giving the order.”

  The room was silent for a few moments before the door slammed open. Jeremiah Gerang came into the room with two guards at his side. They grabbed Lief and pulled him away from the ranger.

  “Sir, we did not receive word of a change in ranger command. If you are the new leader, it is customary that we learn the name of your predecessor so that we may pay him the honor he is due.”

  The ranger sighed. When he spoke, it was with an accent that Lief had never heard before.

  “His name was unimportant. He bled, just as any other man. Just as you shall.”

  He struck Borin first. Lief had never seen a man move fast enough to harm the amogh leader, but this man knocked him out with one strike.

  Bartemus and Malachi both hit him with a spell at the same time, but they seemed to glance off of him.

  He’s an amogh, Lief realized.

  Jeremiah’s guards charged the intruder, but both went down with knives in the chinks of their armor. The assassin jumped atop the table and then dove onto Lief, knocking the monarch down.

  The king instinctively unsheathed his dagger as he fell, and brought it up to his face. He was lucky, as that is where the first slash was aimed. Dagger clanged against dagger as Lief partially blocked his assaulter’s blow. He still felt something warm and wet leak down his face, and the vision in his left eye went dim.

  He felt the weight lift off his chest and knew that Gerang had tackled the assassin. Lief rolled over to see the amogh pinned under the armored bodyguard. Jeremiah fought as a man who knew despair and still desperately wanted to live. After the death of his son, he had become the most dangerous man Lief knew.

  The monarch saw his chance and took it. One of the assassin’s hands was splayed open on the ground, trying to find a grip on the floor. Lief gave him one by slamming his dagger through it. The blade went through the hand and deep into the wood.

  The amogh screamed and went limp. Jeremiah stood, but kept his sword at the assassin’s neck. Borin sat up slowly, and Bartemus and Malachi came out from behind the table where they’d hid.

  Lief brought himself to his feet. “Who are you? Who sent you?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” the amogh said. “You’ll never know.”

  Clenching his teeth, the man ripped the dagger out of the wood using his impaled hand. Lief leapt back, but for no reason. Before anyone could stop him, the assassin had plunged the blade into his own chest. His aim was true, and he died almost instantly.

  Jeremiah sheathed his sword. “I will alert the castle guard. For now we need to get you to safety and healing, Majesty.”

  Lief nodded, but before he left he turned to Bartemus. He was beginning to feel the pain from his wound. Some sorcerers would fix it when he got to his griffin.

  “Initiate the evacuation. You have full access to all of my resources. Just get these people to safety. If Malcommer has infiltrated the rangers’ corps, then there is no one we can trust.”

  Lief leaned against Gerang and stumbled out into the hallway. As they walked away he shot one last longing look back at his round table. He prayed that one day he could see it again.

  10

  Aaliyah stood in the river with an arrow held over her head, perfectly still. At her feet, several small fish swarmed, nibbling on her toes and searching for food. Eventually, a much larger fish thrust itself into the school, causing mass panic as one of the smaller ones became a meal.

  Aaliyah made her move. The arrow struck fast and true, skewering the larger fish and killing it instantly. She threw it on the beach, next to three of its brethren, and stepped out of the water.

  The amogh sat down on the sand and looked up at the stars. They were different here than back home. Some of the constellations were a bit distorted. The Dancing Dragon was more of a Drunk Dancing Dragon, and the Unicorn King seemed to better resemble a Pony Peasant. The young girl found herself missing Camp Ward, her home since her uncle Borin had rescued her from a life of slavery. Camp Ward wasn’t always the safest place. There were many nights when the amoghs who lived there went hungry, and diseases such as bloodcough were a constant danger, but it was the one place where Aaliyah truly felt at peace. It didn’t hurt that her best friend, Joshua, lived there.

  Aidan had met Joshua once, when he visited Camp Ward. The wizard didn’t know how close he and Aaliyah were. Neither did anyone else, for that matter. When Aaliyah arrived at the camp, she had been terrified. Joshua had been the one who made her feel welcomed and even loved in a strange new world. She hadn’t seen her friend since she left the camp with Aidan on their first journey. She wondered what he was doing right now.

  The young girl shook her head and walked into the forest. She considered trying to rest again, but she didn’t feel tired at all after sleeping in the cave and on the beach. Also, seeing Aidan and Kyra cuddling up together made her far angrier than it should have.

  She wasn’t wondering aimlessly. She was curious as to what Kyra might have been heading toward. It would have made sense for the witch to head south to the Nefarious Lands. She could have sold the egg to the highest bidder and used the profits to live a life of ease, or to find the people who destroyed her village and kill them. Instead, the girl had headed north.

  Aaliyah didn’t know much about Aranumis. The country wasn’t technically part
of the Nefarious Lands, or as the people of Aranumis called it, the Southern lands. Malcommer had respected their independence during the Great Wars and allowed them to govern themselves, so long as they provided coal and soldiers. In return, the Southern Lands would come to the aid of Aranumis should the country ever be attacked.

  There were no major cities in Aranumis that Aaliyah knew of, no government at all. Mostly it was just towns and villages scattered throughout the wilderness, making what living they could from farming, hunting, and most importantly of all, coal. Wherever Kyra had been going, it wasn’t anywhere Aaliyah had heard about.

  The amogh girl passed by the place where she had tackled the witch and kept walking. Eventually she came to a dirt road that continued north. Aaliyah kneeled down and touched the dirt.

  Every amogh had a special ability. Aaliyah could predict the immediate future, and Broin could tell when any man was lying. Joshua, however, was the best tracker in Sortiledge. Simply by looking at that road he would have been able to say with perfect accuracy how many people had been traveling on it, with an almost exact time estimate and an approximation of each person’s weight. From what Aaliyah had learned from him, she knew that a large group of people had come through here recently. Some of the footprints were children’s, and some were from armor-covered boots. It suddenly occurred to Aaliyah that Timothy had mentioned a lack of bodies at the village. At the time, Aaliyah had thought, but not said, that the hellhounds had probably dragged the bodies into the woods and eaten them after the battle. Now she realized that the soldiers had taken the population prisoner.

  She started jogging up the road. She doubted they would have gotten far with scared children and elderly people in tow. And she was right. Within a half hour of steady running, she could see the light of several campfires glowing through the trees on her right.

  Aaliyah pulled herself up into the branches of the nearest tree, then made her way across the branches, careful not to rustle any leaves. There were advantages to being small. After crossing three trees, she found a vantage point from which she could see the entire camp.

  There were three fires, each surrounded by a squad of five soldiers. They were arranged in a triangle shape, and in the center of the triangle sat the people of Kyra’s village. There were about twenty-five or thirty of them, all with hands tied behind their backs, which were in turn tied to each other. Children were placed in between the elderly, probably to prevent anyone from trying to escape.

  The soldiers were well organized, just as Aaliyah had been taught. Each squad had two crossbowmen, two swordsmen, and one soldier wielding a mace and chain. All of them carried a shield. If the tactics of the Nefarious Lands had remained the same since the Great Wars, then the swordsmen would create a small shield wall for the crossbowmen, who would shoot from the top and sides. The entire unit would push forward, the swordsmen stabbing anyone foolish enough to approach from the front. If anyone managed to flank the squad, they would be met by the mace-man, whose weapon could snap swords and bones alike.

  Aaliyah could maybe kill an entire squad before the rest could react, but it would do her no good. She doubted the people of Kyra’s village were very important to the soldiers, and if they felt like they were in danger they would probably kill the hostages and retreat.

  The girl was about to climb out of her tree and run back to the others when she felt wind on her face, accompanied by a loud flapping noise.

  A griffin touched the ground and a robed figure leapt from its back. He was a sorcerer—that much Aaliyah could tell from his clothing. But beyond that, he shared no resemblance to the magic-users Aaliyah knew.

  He bore no wand or staff, and his forehead was devoid of a warlock’s mark. Slung across his back was a crossbow made of some swirling, purple and black energy. His griffin was blacker than coal, far different from the white and brown creatures Aaliyah knew.

  But the most extraordinary thing about him were his eyes. There were no whites, only massive pupils surround by a rim of hazel. And within those pupils, Aaliyah could swear she saw a fire burning.

  The amogh shook her head. Probably just the reflection from the campsite.

  All the soldiers stood at attention, and one of the mace-men walked up to the sorcerer and got down on one knee.

  “General Garret,” he said, “We sacked the village as you ordered. These prisoners seem weak; they were barely able to make it this far today. My recommendation is we kill them. They won’t be worth much as slaves.”

  For a moment, Aaliyah was surprised that she could understand the soldiers. Then she remembered something Borin had taught her. During the Great Wars, Malcommer had forced all his soldiers to learn the language of his enemies. When at home they would speak in the Language of Sortiledge, and while at war they would speak Aranumen. It helped keep military operations more confidential from the general public, and it never hurt to have educated soldiers.

  Aaliyah tensed as one of the little girls started to cry. If they tried to kill the children the amogh would intervene, even if it was hopeless.

  Garret seemed to consider the soldier’s words, then shook his head. When he spoke, his voice was raspy but surprisingly human. “No. I need more workers for the northern mines. Have one squad bring the children to the gold mines, another bring the adults to the coal mines, and you and your go to Wyvern’s Roost to debrief and reinforce the fort. Was there any sign of the witch after I left?”

  The soldier, still kneeling, shook his head. “We searched the entire vicinity. None of them are talking either.”

  Garret swore. “Very well. She can’t stay hidden forever. My hounds have cleared out the mineshaft where they were hiding. It won’t be long before they find her, and hopefully those Sortiledgian sorcerers. Do you have the weapons we spoke about?”

  “Every squad has Rakka steel weapons sir. The sorcerers will die swiftly if we find them.”

  Garret turned and climbed back atop his griffin.

  “Use the maps I gave you. If one of your acquisitions can’t keep up, kill it and leave it. And head out tonight. I expect to see you in three days.”

  With that, the griffin took off into the night as swiftly as it had come.

  Aaliyah slowly made her way down the tree as the soldiers began to pack up their camp and forced the prisoners to their feet. The amogh could hear the children, some of which couldn’t be older than five, start to cry. She ground her teeth as she touched the forest floor. Tactically, she knew that the children were nothing more than a distraction. Malcommer and his council forced people to be soldiers, workers, and slaves every day. The only chance of stopping him was to hatch the phoenix egg. But for Aaliyah in that moment, these children were the only ones in the world. And so it was almost without thinking that she dove into the light when no one was looking and grabbed a map from an open bag. No soldier or prisoner saw her as she melted back into the darkness, a mere shadow in the night.

  Aaliyah took the map under her arm and started to run back to their camp just as the sun breached the horizon. She didn’t know what Aidan and the rest would want to do, but for the first time since leaving Sortiledge her path seemed clear. She would save those children if she had to do it with her dying breath.

  ***

  Aidan poked the campfire with a stick. Since he had become a mage and then wizard, he had been using magic to light any blazes he might need. This morning he had woken up before dawn, probably because he spent most of the last day in a coma, and made a fire the old fashioned way, with rocks and sticks.

  He had also built a little spit over the flame, and was currently roasting two of the fish he had found speared on the beach. There was no sign of Aaliyah, but their heartsoul link told him she was fine. Probably just going for a morning run, like she always did back home.

  The others began to rouse as the sun rose. Kyra let Aidan move her hands from her back to her front so that she could eat, but glared at him as he retied the knots. He still felt bad, but understood why the witch co
uldn’t be released.

  Timothy and Eleanor were the last to get up. Neither much cared for early mornings, and they ate with grumpy scowls on their faces. Aidan decided it would be best to leave them alone.

  He had just finished his own slightly burnt fish when Aaliyah came crashing into the campsite.

  “Is everything okay?” Aidan asked.

  Aaliyah shook her head. “I saw Garret. The person Malcommer wants us to kill. I can’t say I’m against the idea.” Aidan saw Timothy put his arm protectively around Eleanor when Garret’s name was mentioned.

  She told them in hurried words what she had seen and heard. When she was finished, she unfurled the map and put it on the ground. The road Aaliyah had found the soldiers on split once a couple miles north of where she had seen Garret, and again a half mile later.

  “If we go now, we might be able to catch them before they can split up. Then we can all go to this Wyvern’s roost place, kill Garret, prevent the prophecy, and hatch the egg.”

  Aidan looked up at the amogh. He hadn’t seen her this alive in months, but her idea sounded terrible. Aidan was supposed to be the one to come up with atrocious ideas, and Aaliyah was supposed to be the one to bring him back to reality, not the other way around.

  “Aaliyah, will this actually work? If we mess this up we will put them in more danger.”

  Aaliyah looked at Aidan with ice in her eyes. “Aidan, they’re children. They are going to make them slaves. If you aren’t in, I will do it by myself.”

  Aidan sighed. Aaliyah had once been a slave to a cruel wizard who experimented on her to try to understand amoghs. For her, this was personal.

  “Okay then. I’ll go untie Kyra.”

  “No,” Aaliyah said. “You can’t use your translation spell to explain this to her until you get your magic back, and she’s already shown she can’t be trusted. Just pack up, I’ll lead her.”

  And so they did. Aidan felt a sense of dread surround him as he rolled up his sleeping mat and tied it to the top of his pack. This Garret, or Dark Angel, was more than just a pawn. Aidan was not anxious to incur his wrath.