Embers of an Age (Blood War Trilogy) (3 page)

“Though he did not say such, I believe Uthul felt as you do, Sha’ree. He stared at those we collected as though afraid to touch them, taking only the two for the Velen and Yvir
i warrior
,” Quaii told her.

“These were not crafted by my people.” She closed her hand about the bracer, her pink eyes growing even wider than Arrin believed possible. “I
,
too
,
feel their magic, and yet
I sense none of the virulence that has come to plague my people. I…I do not understand how
that could be
.”

“Perhaps we should worry about this another time. Ah Uto Ree is a long
way
from here,” Arrin said, staring off toward Lathah.
“I would learn what I can and return in time to keep the Grol from overrunning Ahreele.”

Zalee drew her hand from the silver O’hra and nodded.
“
Will you come with us, warrior?” she asked Jerul.

“Where Domor goes, I follow,”
he
answered.

The Velen raised his head and gave the Yvir a faint smile. Arrin turned to look at Quaii. “
Your children
can teach your people to use the O’hra, at least well enough to help even the odds.”

“Waeri can teach
them
. I intend
to travel with
you
,” Kirah replied, planting her hands on her hips.

“Daughter…” the warlord started.

“One warrior, more or less, will not turn the tide here in Pathrale,
F
ather,
but it may well do so
once I learn to use the O’hra to its fullest. Besides, they will need my help in the journey to Ah Uto Ree.”

“Always the adventurer, child
;
insatiable
.
” The great cat sighed, pulling his daughter into his arms. “
Do what you must, but be safe. We will be here when you come home.”

Kirah purred and rubbed her forehead against the warlord’s cheek. “Hold strong. We will return soon.”

“What of us?” Maltis asked, stepping closer. He gestured to the rest of the survivors.

“You are needed here, to protect the royal family, my friend,” Arrin answered. The commander seemed to shrink, but he said nothing. He only nodded. “We must travel fast to the land of the Sha’ree if we are to confront the Grol before they
drive too deep into the heart of Ahreele. Protect Malya. Her and her sons are the future of Lathah.”

“I will have them escorted to the shore of the Iron Ocean,” Quaii said. “The Tumult
spends its last
,
and they will be
secure
with the water to their back and the mountains to
shield
their side. We will keep them safe from the Grol.”

Malya’s eyes looked as though she might protest, but no argument
slipped
from her tongue. She looked to her family and bowed to the warlord. “Agreed.”

Arrin
let a tiny smile color his lips
.
Malya’s
strength had always been so vocal, so forceful, but now she focused it upon what was most important: the safety of her family.
It was only more proof they had each grown in their time apart, their paths diverging. She was not the same woman he had known so long ago.

“We must go,
but we will be back
. We will need an army to wield the O’hra we provide,
” Zalee said
.

“We will be ready to fight,” Quaii answered without hesitation.

Zalee thanked the warlord and waved
to
Cael, who
stood with Malya. “Come, Cael. We will need you
, as well
.”

The boy nodded and hugged Ellora in a brief, awkward embrace
before
easing
away
.
Arrin watched his uncertainty, unable to remember being so young. Cael
rustled
the
Argos and Kylle’s
hair
and said his farewells to the rest, coming to stand beside the Sha’ree. The Velen and Yvir
came
alongside, as well.

Arrin went to the bag of O’hra at Quaii’s feet and dug inside. He pulled a bronze bracer out and
returned, handing
it to Cael. “You will need this to keep up.” The boy grinned and locked the bracer onto his wrist.

As he did, Arrin glanced over at Malya. Their eyes met for just a moment before he turned away. There was nothing left to say, what they had buried in the past
, never to be unearthed again
. He turned to Quaii, extending his hand. He
remained silent
as the warlord clasped it in his tight grip. Both knew what lay ahead, and neither seemed willing to risk bringing voice to it. Arrin broke away first and joined the Sha’ree
as she moved slowly apart from the others
. Kirah said her farewells and the group walked
off
to the
supportive
shouts of her people.

Arrin
hoped this was not the last time he heard their voices.
He
glanced at Kirah and knew they shared the same thought.

Uthul awoke to darkness. Thunder rumbled over him, the earth trembling
at
its touch. He blinked away the dust
,
which
clung to his eyes
,
as a numb tingle spread warm across his body. Dots of light crept to his vision, tempering the shadows that hovered before him. He went to move and felt a great weight at his back. His pulse pounded awake as fear set in. Memory returned a moment later.

The spire
had fallen
.

He remembered the Grol, as well. Uthul shifted beneath the stones that pressed against his spine and found he was not immobilized as he had first believed. The weight shifted
,
and he heard the clatter of falling rock. A cloudy gray light filtered through to his eyes. He felt for his limbs and they responded, sore but whole. His arms slid across the roughened ground and he managed to get them beneath him. He pushed upward and another cascade of stone tumbled away, the bag of O’hra at his waist clanging against the rocks. On his knees, he stared at the fog that swirled around him. It was thick and obscured his vision. He tasted its
musky
bitterness as he drew in a deep breath and pulled himself to his feet. If it blocked his sight, then the Grol would be just as blind, their sense of smell distorted by the dust.

Above him sat part of the city wall that had fallen beneath the spire. Its mass had deflected the
tower
’s momentum just enough to keep it from
reaching
the ground. Uthul followed the angle of the great
spire
that rose from where he stood and realized the next wall in line had held. He whispered a blessing to Ree
for his good fortune
.

He could hear the coughed barks of the beasts
echoing in the swirl of dust
and knew his opportunity had come. Uthul set his direction by the roar of the Tumult that battered the Iron Ocean beyond the massive Fortress Mountains and set his feet to motion. Each step was a trial. He could feel the sickness welling inside him, the wounds he’d received festering and foul for the touch of the O’hra. The plague had yet to
surface,
but he could sense its approach.
It lingered in the background, a predator shadowing its prey, but Uthul felt a difference in its approach. Alone, separated from his people, the ferocity of the plague seemed somewhat tamed. It was as though the Sha’ree closeness had not only helped to spread the sickness, but it had also exacerbate
d
it.
But did it matter
? The sickness was inside him and growing stronger
, the influx of magical energy feeding its virulence
. It would consume him.

He clenched his teeth and shook away the fear that threatened to
devour
his resolve. There was no time for weakness. Zalee would soon be forced to take the fight to the Grol. He was needed
at
her side.

Coated in the dust that floated dark in the air, Uthul cleared the wreckage of the spire
from his path
and pressed on toward the west.
Figures
stumbled in the fog, man and beast alike, trying to find their bearings. Uthul left them both behind,
moving
past and doing nothing to call attention to his passage. His arms hung weak at his side as he drove onward, his legs barely able to support his weight. Each stone in his path threatened to bring him down.

It seemed hours before he cleared the cloying fog and stepped on
to
the cobblestoned street of the innermost section of Lathah. The Grol howled in the distance, but he heard none of their voices nearby. He glanced about to be certain. The base of the spire was off to the east, its great bulk having crushed the gate that led to the level he stood on. Once more, he was certain Ree had a hand in his fate. He smiled
at the thought
and cast his gaze to the mountains that towered above Lathah. His smile faded.

The Grol clustered outside the city, their forces likely filling every crack between. There would be no returning that way, but the looming mountains seemed no less formidable. The rumble of the
fading
Tumult echoed overhead, storm clouds billowing to life at the peak of the mountains. He glanced behind him to the dust that had begun to settle, the voices of the enemy raised and
growing
confident once more. They were regaining order amidst the chaos. That left Uthul little choice.

He gathered his will and set his feet to moving once again. If there was a chance at life, it resided within the sheltering embrace of the Fortress Mountains. There he could rest and gather his strength for the journey to come.

When at last he came to the end of the city, he was grateful to the Lathahns for having built their citadel directly against the face of the mountain. There was no wall to navigate; only the rough-hewn rock that jutted up from the earth. He stared up at the near vertical ascent and wondered if his choice had been the right one. A sigh slipped loose as he convinced himself to climb. Death on the mountain was preferable to dying at the hands of the Grol.

He gripped a stone
, which
protruded from the wall
,
and growled at the shards of pain th
at speared his hand
. His fingers twitched but held strong as he reached for another handhold and pulled himself upward. He bit down, clenching his jaw to still his
rebellious
tongue, swallowing the scream that fought to be released. Uthul had never felt such agony, not even under the sway of the plague. The battle with the Grol had brought him to the brink, and he feared the mountain would cast him down and finish what the beasts had started. He looked up to see the wall
that
seem
ed
to go on forever
, its vastness filling his vision. It seemed insurmountable, but Uthul knew what lay at the end of his journey: Zalee.

It took only her name to spur him on.

~

The fury of the Tumult grew beneath his fingertips as he clung to the wall. Pain lanced through his joints and set fire to his every muscle. They felt as stiff as the stone he clutched. His breath huffed from his lungs, blowing stale dust from the face of the mountain.
It swirled about him and peppered his eyes.
The heavy bag
at his belt
bore him down,
the
magic
of its contents
setting his stomach to roil, but he would not let the O’hra fall back into Grol hands. His body shook with constant tremors that challenged his hold, but he persevered. If he was to see his daughter again, he must endure.

The ground had
become a blur
beneath him, so far down as to be nearly invisible, but he had long since stopped
imagining falling
. Only the summit held his gaze. The
brilliant
eye of A’ree peeked over the mountaintop and cast its glow upon the wall, flickers of red and orange dancing
in
his
vision
. Nu’ree hung half eclipsed behind her sister moon, her blue shimmer a dull glimmer in the background of the sky. As Uthul drew closer to his destination, wash from the
Iron Ocean
rained down over him in irregular spray
, carried by the raging Tumult
. The heat of its touch added yet another misery to the climb, wetting the rocks and making each handhold even more treacherous than the last. The moisture slowed his climb, the mountain grinding ag
ainst the last of his endurance and savaging the flesh at his fingers.