Embers of an Age (Blood War Trilogy) (21 page)

She spoke of Uthul and his intentions, but a lifetime of paranoia gathered in an effort to remain alive, Arrin couldn’t help but question her motivations. Had Uthul promised her more than a means to return home? Was there something more to her willingness to lead them to the mausoleum? Arrin growled as the thoughts ran through his head. He would have to be wary
. For all he knew, Braelyn could be in league with the Hull and Ruhr, though he felt that
was not only
unlikely
, but ridiculous
.
That didn’t stop the idea from blossoming.

“Something wrong?” Kirah asked, setting her warm hand on his arm.

He turned to face her, and shook his head. “Only thinking of what might go wrong,” he answered. “It’s a bad habit of mine.” Arrin did his best to force a smile, failing miserably.

Kirah
lent him hers
as she squeezed his arm
. “
We will win through, Arrin. We have only to make it to the mausoleum and this ramshackle force becomes a conquering army.”

Arrin glanced to the
clustered
Velen and laughed, turning his gaze away before they realized and took offense. “I had no idea
you were such an accomplished j
ester.”

She bumped her shoulder into his, knocking him off balance. Her smile stretched. “Perhaps I exaggerate some,
but we need only to collect the O’hra and gather my people
.
Then
not even the Hull can stand before us.”

He righted himself and shook his head
. “You make it sound so easy, Kirah.”

She reached out and pulled him in close to her, and nuzzled her nose in his throat, just above the collar. “Have faith, Lathahn.”

Arrin felt the soft scrape of her tongue against his neck, his skin instantly prickling in response. He pulled her against him, reveling in her closeness. For fifteen years he had been faithful to Malya—to the ideal of their marriage and vows—
but
that had long ago lost all meaning to anyone but his deluded self.
He had known no emotion save for anger and
sorrow
, using them to fuel his heart and keep it pumping inside the empty well of his chest. But now, with Kirah pressed warm against him and Malya in the arms of her husband, all that was cast into disarray, a stone shattering the surface of a calm pool.
W
armth filled him; one he was unfamiliar with, it had been so long. He moaned and tightened his grip on Kirah.

Jerul walked over, interr
upting them with a quiet cough. As though a child caught pilfering sweet bread, Arrin stepped away and stared wide-eyed at the warrior.
His cheeks warmed.
Kirah smiled, chuckling quietly
.

“The Velen are as ready as possible,” he grinned at Kirah, doing his best to smother it when he looked
back
to Arrin.

Arrin
gave a frantic nod
and waved him on. Jerul returned to his people with a quiet
laugh
.

Kirah slapped a hand against Arrin’s chest and echoed Jerul’s
amusement
. “Come, warrior, let us continue on. Perhaps we might stumble across some strange beast so you
can
return to the only element you are comfortable within.”

She wandered over to Braelyn, her tail flicking
back and forth sharply
. Arrin sighed and waved the
travelers
onward.
His face still flush, he tucked his chin and set his feet to motion. The soft crunch of the sand met him a moment later, and he locked his eyes on Braelyn’s boots.

He hated to admit Kirah was
right. H
e had been too long in the wilderness both in spirit and in flesh.
Her boldness was frightening. While Arrin never lacked for women in his life before Malya, there had been none since. It had been so long since he was a soldier of Lathah, the life was nearly forgotten. Only the princess had haunted his dreams and fueled his desires
. H
e had to wonder if it was
even
possible to move on.

He raised his head to the desert
, which
sprawled before him
,
and the sand scrubbed the question from his mind. Death loomed in the golden land and cast its shadow behind him. For all the feelings Kirah stirred loose, Arrin felt a familiar numbness settling over him.
She had been right.
For now, there was no place in his life for romance or dreams or happiness. His child was lost, Malya was lost, and so was he. All around him
suffering lurked,
and he could find no room
for anything but the cold reality of steel. Should he make it through the trials ahead he might be able to reconcile hope with the cruelties of life, but it was far too soon for even the embers of such thoughts.

Arrin stared into the funeral Sands and set his hand upon the hilt of his sword. The trials were far from over.

~

After just a short while into the desert, Arrin wished for the hard packed dirt of Gurhtol. The sand grasped at his feet and shifted at every step. It was as though the ground conspired against them.
What had
earlier
been a surprisingly swift pace set by the group had slowed to a drunken crawl. The Yvir kept quiet, saying nothing discouraging as they walked along, but the Velen were like children. Arrin sighed as their complaints
droned
on
. Their voices peppered
his ears with prayers and curses disguised so both sounded similar in
their
ferocity. Only the efforts of the Yvir kept them moving forward.

The heat pressed in like nothing Arrin had ever felt before. The collar worked to ease its touch, but sweat glistened under his tunic and ran easily from his forehead
, soaking his hair
. It was palpable as they pressed on, an invisible wall that set fire to his skin. He worried for those without the soothing touch of O’hra and wondered
i
f the heat was yet another enemy they would have to face before reaching their destination.

Braelyn cast a number of glances at Arrin, an amused smirk on her face for his discomfort. Kirah walked alongside her
, likely broiling under her coating of fur.
T
he two
women
spoke quietly from time to time, leaving Arrin by himself, yards back. He was fine with that. His foolishness at Kirah’s affection nagged at him despite everything. It had opened his eyes to the changes that had occurred in him over the time of his exile. He hadn’t realized any of them. There had only been the need for survival, which thanks to the power of the collar at his throat, had been accomplished far more simply had he not possessed it. Now, he looked back with open eyes and
felt a pang of regret for how he had lived all those years. He had wasted them.

Arrin stomped his feet into the sand at the thought and sped his pace without thinking. He wanted all this to be over. His boots sunk into the mire of the desert and he felt it vibrate beneath him. He stopped without realizing why, and looked to Braelyn. She
,
too
,
stood motionless. Her placid expression morphed into steel just as Arrin understood what his senses were telling him.

“Scatter!” he screamed as he unsheathed his sword tried to hone in on the subtle flicker of magical essence that fluttered in the sand.

His warning was too late.

The ground exploded in the midst of the Velen. A gray pallor washed over their dark faces as glistening sand rained down. Arrin ran toward the group just as one of their number burst into the air as though he had sprouted wings. He screamed as
one of
his legs
w
as
replaced by a hideous worm-like creature that carried him high above the ground.
The h
undreds of mouths
,
which ran its length,
clicked sharpened
black teeth and loosed a multitude of hideous shrieks that pierced Arrin’s ears like arrows.
He saw many of the Velen and Yviri clutch their heads and stumble away beneath the aural assault.

The creature reached the apex of its lung
e
and dropped back to earth as the Velen scattered from its path. The
man
caught
in its maw
s
went silent with shock, his arms stretched to the sky as the worm dragged him down.
They hit the ground
together
with a
thump
.
Arrin heard the
crackle
of the Velen’s bones shattering
at
impact
, grateful he couldn’t see the man through the shower of sand
. Bulbous eyes
,
on six wavering stalks
, rose up from the dust cloud and
swiveled in different directions as if gauging its
next
meal
. The massive eye that made up its face stared straight ahead, the fluid gushing inside its lens a sickening green.

Its tale slithered from the sand and lashed out at those nearest. Arrin was surprised to see
the back end
was exactly the same as the front of the creature
: a
massive eye set central on its cylindrical body while a half dozen squir
med on leathery tendrils above. A Yviri warrior
, who
rushed in to defend the Velen, fell beneath the tail’s mass.
The
wall of
mouths bit down without hesitation. The warrior’s voice whipped the air with a ragged shriek and blood spewed
across
the sand. His fellow
Yvir
raced to his aid.

Arrin reached
the worm
first. The abyssal mouths gnashed at him as he closed and drove his sword into its side.
His nose was assailed by the stench of rotten meat as black
blood
spilled from the wound, dousing his hand in its warm thickness. The worm bent neatly in the middle and Arrin was forced to retreat or be crushed b
etween
the two halves. Another warrior wasn’t so lucky. There was a resounding
snap
as his spine gave
way. H
e dropped to the ground without a
word
, and was yanked across the sand by the array of mouths that
latched onto his broken body.

Braelyn darted in front of Arrin and ran for the massive eye. Several of the worm’s smaller
orbs
spied her
first,
and it rose up into the air as she closed, roaring its displeasure. Without hesitation she leapt after it.

Arrin thrust his sword into the guts of the creature as she did, hoping to draw its attention. The worm howled and its head twisted, turning so that its massive lens lay directly before Braelyn. She drove the blade of her black sword into
the
center of its eye. It stiffened as she yanked the blade free and sailed over its head. A chain reaction of shrieks
spewed
from
its mouths as they sounded a dirge. Greenish pus rained down
on
Arrin as he stepped clear
of
the
toppling worm
.

“Move away,” he shouted just before the creature struck the ground.

The sand jumped beneath them as it hit. The piercing cry of the worm died one mouth at a time, fading into a quiet gurgle before going silent altogether. Arrin stared at the
creature
as it
writhed
and shuddered, its pungent scent stinging his eyes and assaulting his nose. More of the
greenish
fluid
spilled from
its dead eye
and
gushed forth to stain the sand as it twitched its last.

His stomach churning
, Arrin looked to gauge the damage
the thing
had wrought. Several Velen lay prone upon the desert sand, and still a few more of the Yvir he had not seen fall.

Braelyn and Kirah came to stand beside him
as he scraped away the foul fluid with handfuls of
warm
sand.
Jerul arriv
ed
a moment later.

“
Despite our losses
, this could have been much worse,” Arrin said as they assessed the damage.

“It will be,” Braelyn replied, her bluntness drawing
everyone’s
eyes. “Forgive me, but this is only the first of what we will encounter, and at the risk of discouraging you, by far the least.”

Jerul groaned and went to warn his people as Arrin stared at Braelyn. “Do all of the bea
s
ts burst from the ground so suddenly?”