★★★★★ "Great start to a new series! Interesting characters and a unique storyline set in a world that begs to be explored or in this case survived. Definitely worth checking out!"
Centuries ago, the world fell.
From the ashes rose a terrible new species—the Tangata.
Now they wage war against the kingdoms of man. And humanity is losing.
Recruited straight from his academy, twenty-year-old Lukys hopes the frontier will make a soldier out of him. But Tangata are massing in the south, and the allied armies are desperate. They will do anything to halt the enemy advance—including sending untrained men and women into battle. Determined to survive, Lukys seeks aid from the only man who seems to care: Romaine, the last warrior of an extinct kingdom.
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Danger, death, death!
The words pounded on the inside of Lukys’s skull like a drum, robbing him of thought, of action. He watched in sheer terror as Romaine stood alone against the Tangata, so overwhelmed he could not move, not even when the female leapt at him, splintering his spear in two.
Even to his inexperienced eye, he knew there was something different about these two. The dead Tangata lay all around, and he knew instinctively they’d been killed by the creatures now battling against Romaine. Why they would do such a thing he could not say, but he knew now why Perfugian legends warned against disturbing these ancient places.
The Gods may have departed, but their magic, their creations, remained.
And they were terrible.
Lukys gaped as his mentor staggered back from the monster, his left hand…gone! A groan came from Romaine as the axe slipped from his fingers and he clutched at the severed limb, all the fight gone from him. Laughter whispered from the narrow walls as the monster stepped after him.
Rage ignited in Lukys’s chest. He still held his shattered spear. Tossing aside the useless end, he took a two-handed grip of what remained to him, steel tip aimed at the monster’s chest.
“All of us together!” Lukys bellowed, trying to bring their broken remnants together. “Like Romaine taught us!”
A flicker of shadow, air hissing between his teeth—then pain.
Lukys belatedly crumpled in two as the female attacked, her fist slamming into his stomach. Unable to breathe, he crumpled to the stone, vision flickering. Too late he realised they’d never stood a chance, that these…things had only been toying with them.
A grin twisted the male’s face as it picked up the fallen spear. Terrible silver eyes examined the weapon, then turned on Lukys. It lifted the blade…
And disappeared.
Or rather, the creature was flung across the room by a tempest of copper hair and grey furs.
Lukys watched in horror as Cara and the male struck the ground and rolled. Steel glinted in his friend’s hands, but a dagger was no match for these things, no match for their strength—
Blood spurted across the stones as Cara leapt to her feet, her knife left behind, impaled in the male’s throat. It thrashed against the floor, hands clutched desperately at the wound, but there was no stemming the gushing of blood and in seconds it grew limp, lying still amidst the broken glass and swirling liquids.
Across the room, the female stared at its mate for a long moment, silver eyes wide, registering disbelief. Then they narrowed, and a terrible growl echoed from its throat. The pounding began again in Lukys’s skull as it faced Cara, though now it seemed there were twin beats…
Death, life. Death, life. Death, life.
“Cara, run—” Lukys tried to warn her, but his words came too late.
Faster than his eyes could track, the beast charged at his friend, teeth bared, naked limbs flashing, roars echoing in the narrow chambers.
Cara leapt to meet it.
Lukys’s fear gave way to shock as he watched, stunned, as the two fought their way across the room. It…wasn’t possible, but Cara matched the beast blow for blow, each movement little more than a blur. No human could move so fast—not even the Tangata were as quick.
Snarls filled the chamber as the two exchanged strikes, inhuman, wild cries echoing from the ceilings. Staring at the two, Lukys tried to reconcile the woman he had known these last weeks, his friend, with the creature that stood before him now. Blood covered her face and clothing, so that she seemed more animalistic than even the beast she had fought.
Lukys winced as a blow caught Cara in the shoulder, sending her backwards, but he made no move to help her. Whatever was happening…he couldn’t understand what was going on, how his friend had transformed. What they were seeing, it was not possible.
Cara straightened with a snarl, auburn hair tangled, obscuring her face. The ancient Tangata came at her again, but this time Cara was quicker, her fist colliding with the female’s head, sending it whipping backwards.
Deathlife, deathlife, deathlife.
Straining to think through the chaos, Lukys’s eyes swept the room. Dale was down on one knee. He still clutched a spear, but his face was pale, eyes wide as he watched the two creatures circle one another. A body slumped nearby was the Archivist, but whether she was unconscious or dead, her magic could not help them against this thing.
Then there was Romaine.
The axeman had managed to regain his feet, though he’d left the massive axe on the floor beside him. The colour had left his tanned features. Blood stained the floor around the Calafe—a lot of blood. The sight shook Lukys from his daze, and he darted to the axeman’s side
“Romaine,” he said, grasping the man’s shoulder.
The axeman glanced at him, but his eyes showed no sign of recognition. “Can’t let them leave,” he was muttering beneath his breath.
Lukys cursed. At least the Calafe had retained enough sense to clutch a rag to his wound—but a glance at the severed limb told Lukys it would need more than that to stem the bleeding. Quickly, he dragged the belt from his trousers and pulled it tight around the axeman’s forearm. Romaine hardly seemed to register the makeshift tourniquet. Like everyone else, his eyes were fixed on the battle.
Death, death, death.
A scream rang from the walls and Lukys spun in time to see Cara catch her foe by the arm. Blood flowed as she wrenched, sending the creature to its knees. An answering shriek echoed from the walls, but it ended in a gurgle as Cara’s fingers lashed out, tearing through flesh and cartilage and bone.
The creature fell to the floor, dead beside its mate.
Silence fell like a blanket over the chamber as Lukys and the others stared at the body, watching as the blood pulsing from its wounds slowed, then ceased. As one, they turned their gaze on Cara.
The grey eyes of a Tangata stared back at them, mad, enraged. Despite everything he’d seen, Lukys flinched. It was as though Cara herself had reached into his chest and wrenched out his heart.
Death, death, death.
“You’re one of them,” he whispered, eyes burning.
They had been betrayed. Somehow, the Tangata had created one who could walk amongst humans without being noticed, a Tangata without their telltale eyes. One who could speak, who could pretend, who could even adapt their mannerisms. But now she had revealed herself…
“Lukys, no…” Cara whispered.
She blinked, and the animal vanished, the grey receding from her irises, replaced by the usual amber. In seconds, it was no longer a Tangata who stood before them, but the human he had known all these weeks, the sweet young woman he had met on the walls of Fogmore. She stared at him, eyes wide and filled with fear. There was no sign of the fury of just moments before.
“Yes.”
Somehow Romaine had moved without Lukys’s notice. The Calafe now stood near the entrance to the chamber. Shoulders drooping, face grey from lost blood, he held his axe before him like a sword. Pain shone from his eyes, and though blood still seeped from his severed hand, Lukys sensed it was the agony of betrayal he saw.
“Romaine,” Cara whispered, holding out a hand. “Your hand—”
“You’re one of them,” the axeman repeated Lukys’s earlier words. He staggered forward, though it seemed his legs could hardly hold his weight now. “You’ve betrayed us…why?”
Cara retreated from Romaine, shaking her head. “No, no, no,” she whispered as she looked this way and that, seeking to escape. Her eyes met Lukys’s, and he could almost hear her pleading.
Help me, Lukys!
Lukys was still trying to process what he’d seen. Cara had…saved them…but she was one of the Tangata…why would she help them? His eyes were drawn to the clothed bodies, those of the modern Tangata. A cold hand gripped his heart. She had avenged them, her fellow Tangata, those who had fallen earlier to these creatures.
He clenched his fists, steeling himself against pity. She had deceived them all, had tricked them, played them as fools for weeks. This was only another manipulation, a testing on their emotions, to try and recover her act. Romaine had already seen it. No, they couldn’t afford mercy, not now, not after seeing the power this new Tangata held in her hands. If they could stop her…
“Dale, get up,” Lukys hissed, stepping sideways to place Cara in the middle of the three of them. His foot brushed the broken spear and he swept it into his hands.
Across the room, Dale came slowly to his feet. His face registered shock rather than pain. He hadn’t known Cara as they had, wouldn’t feel the same depth of betrayal. Lukys and Romaine and Travis had opened themselves to her, to the monster that lurked in their midst. Spear held extended, Dale crept closer to the Tangatan traitor.
“Please,” Cara murmured, swinging to Romaine again. “I never wanted to hurt anyone.”
The blood covering her heavy coat said otherwise. Lukys held his broken weapon higher, though it seemed inadequate after witnessing Cara’s disposal of the two creatures. He tightened his grip. It would be enough. It had to be.
“Lukys…” She tried him again. Tears shone in her amber eyes as she extended a hand. “Please, you know…”
Please, please, please.
The sight of her tears froze Lukys in place. Blood pounded in his ears as their eyes locked, and he could almost hear, could almost believe….
No, no, no.
The scraping of leather against stone gave Romaine away. Spinning, Cara leapt back from the Calafe as his axe swept down, narrowly avoiding the terrible blades. A scream echoed from the walls—not of rage, but grief.
“Romaine!” Cara cried, but the Calafe warrior was beyond listening.
Teeth bared, eyes shimmering, axe clenched in his one good hand, he advanced. Lukys watched on, unable to move. In his mind, he saw again the creatures attacking, the awful battle, the blood…
The broken spear shook in his hand as he lifted it, then lowered it once more, trapped in a cycle of indecision.
“You don’t have to be afraid,” Cara gasped, hands raised to Romaine. “Please, I—”
“Enough!” Romaine bellowed.
The razor tips of his axe came up, the weapon flashing for Cara’s skull. Again she leapt back, and Romaine staggered. Agony contorted his face and Lukys could hardly believe the man stayed on his feet. Any normal man would have passed out from the pain, let alone loss of blood.
Please, please, please.
Lukys stifled a moan and raised a hand to his forehead. His skull ached as though someone were banging on it with a club. Another roar drew his attention back to the conflict as Dale tried a clumsy thrust with his spear. Cara evaded it easily, but…
She was standing directly before Lukys now. Back turned, she didn’t seem to remember he was there…or hadn’t realised her evasion had brought her so close.
He swallowed, the spear trembling in his fingers. Across the room, Romaine met his eyes. Axe raised, the Calafe started forward again, drawing Cara’s attention.
Lukys stared at Cara’s back, at her unprotected spine. He imagined driving the point of his spear through that soft flesh, imagined hearing his friend’s final cries, the last breath rattling from her chest…
She’s not your friend!
There was no doubt. He had seen her, had seen those horrible grey eyes, sensed the violence in her soul. She was one of them, one of the Tangata, living amongst them, a spy, a traitor. A dangerous new breed, a monster that must be destroyed.
So why did this seem so wrong?
Please!
Lukys’s heart throbbed. He had to act now. Cara was so close, he could have reached out and touched her, though she hated that.
Why?
It seemed an odd phobia, for one of them.
He shook himself. There was no time for doubt. Again he met Romaine’s eyes. Silently he lifted the broken spear.
And brought it down on the back of Cara’s skull.
Erika sat watching as the light slowly grew between the distant peaks. Mist formed in front of her face each time she exhaled, and the air was so cold it hurt just to breathe. Her head ached from the blow she had received in the caverns and it still hurt to walk on her left leg.
She hardly cared.
The battle was two days past now. She could remember only flashes. A contorted face. Grey eyes in the darkness. A flash of white. Agony.
Then staggering through an endless tunnel, supported by a faceless man in blue. Climbing, hand over hand, up and up, metal rungs—then rocks. Feet slipping in gravel.
Sleep.
The first she’d truly wakened was the next day, when the sun had found her exposed on the mountainside. That had been yesterday morning.
Watching the sun rise now, she lifted her hand and squeezed. Light ignited between her fingers. Just a few days ago, the sight had given her a thrill, filled her with a feeling of power. Today, it did nothing to shift her despair.
Down in that darkness, her magic had proven useless. Before the might of the Gods, she had been powerless, knocked unconscious before she’d ever had a chance to use the power.
Worse still, she had failed.
Lukys was leading them back towards Flumeer, back to the rest of their regiment and the safety of the Illmoor. But what did that matter to Erika? Once again, her expedition had proven fruitless. The queen had warned of the consequences if she returned empty-handed…
If only she had reached the tunnels before the Tangata. Who knew what priceless artefacts the creatures had destroyed in their rage? No, that had not been rage, but a methodical destruction. Her Archivist’s mind wanted to know why. But apparently not even the Tangata had expected to find those ancient monsters…
Erika shuddered, her mind recoiling from that memory. It was a relief when the images faded back into darkness, though the fuzziness of her thoughts could not hide the truth from her. She was ruined, betrayed yet again.
Her eyes were drawn to where the treacherous spy lay. She was bound hand and foot by heavy rope, her mouth gagged in case she tried to call for help. Dale also sat nearby for good measure, their one good spear at the ready. Erika still wasn’t sure why they’d kept her alive. Lukys had apparently struck her hard in the head with the blunt end of his spear, then stopped Romaine from slaying her where she lay.
He thought they needed to know how the Tangata had learned to speak, and whether there were others.
Erika didn’t care.
Movement came from the shadow of a nearby boulder, but it was only Romaine. He blinked as the brightness of the rising sun touched his face, then rolled over to present his back to the light.
Erika shivered as she glimpsed his stump. It was swathed in cloth, but she’d seen the ruin the creature had left of it the night before, when Lukys had changed the bandages. They’d used the burning torch to cauterise it, down there in the darkness. It had stopped the bleeding and saved the man’s life.
Not that the warrior seemed interested in living any longer. Whether it was the loss of his hand, or the girl’s betrayal, Romaine had hardly spoken a word since leaving the caverns. His depression made Erika seem joyful by comparison; it was as though his entire world had ended down there in the darkness.
Soon the others began to stir, first Lukys, then Dale, and finally Cara. The woman—no, the beast—had obeyed their every instruction since awakening, though Erika often glimpsed tears in the thing’s eyes as they walked. If Cara thought her act would soften their hearts, she was sorely mistaken.
Romaine was last to rise. They had lost many of their possessions in the caverns, including most of their food. They had eaten the last of their supplies the night before. The Calafe started off without saying a word, leaving the rest of them standing there in silence.
“He’ll be okay,” Lukys said finally, glancing at the others. Erika and Dale said nothing, and after a moment, Lukys held his hand out to the other recruit. “Pass the spear,” he murmured, “I’ll guard her through the morning.”
They started off, though the going was slow with Cara between them. The rope tying her legs was long enough that she could walk in short steps, though if she tried to run it would quickly become entangled. On the uneven rocks, it caught frequently anyway, sending her stumbling forward until she recovered or fell. With her arms bound behind her back, she often ended up on her face.
Even so, she did not struggle or say a word as the day progressed. Lukys followed behind her, spear held ready to run her through if she tried to escape. Exhaustion hung over them like a shroud, but at least the snow had held off, and soon they were back amongst the trees. The only hope that kept them going was the thought of reaching the Illmoor, of the hot food and safety that awaited them on the other side.
Erika paid little attention to her surroundings as they marched. Despite her hunger, despite her haste in the day’s past, she cared little for whether they reached the camp or not. What did it matter whether she died out here, or by the queen’s hand back in the capital? That day in the throne room seemed an age ago now; even that last night in Fogmore, spent enraged at the general’s deceit, was a distant memory.
Anger touched her again. Could this venture have ended differently had she been accompanied by true soldiers? If she’d delayed, waiting for orders from the queen for Curtis to provide her with better men?
Such folly.
Maybe if Lukys and Dale—the only ones lucid after the attack—had allowed them to linger in the caverns, Erika might have found something that had survived the Tangata’s methodical destruction. But by the time she’d recovered her wits, they’d already been far away.
They reached the abandoned village as the sun was setting, though walking at the rear of the group, Erika didn’t realise until she saw the first of the cottages. The sight came as a relief—at least they might be able to risk a fire, even if there was nothing left to eat. And it meant there was less than a day’s walk to the Illmoor.
Then she saw the bodies.
A fiery rope looped its way around her stomach. She staggered, seeing first one, then another, then…more. Choking, she stumbled on, igniting the light of her gauntlet, ready to strike. A shadow shifted in the darkness and she cried out, lifting her fist. The light illuminated Lukys’s face and she sagged, the fight fleeing her in a rush.
“Lukys!” she gasped. “What happened here?”
“The Tangata,” Lukys said, his voice cold, face registering no emotion. These had been his friends, but the past two days had taken something from all of them, robbed them of their innocence. “Come, this way.”
Erika did as she was bid, too tired to resist, to ask questions. Bodies lay scattered in the path and alleyways between the buildings. In the growing dark, Erika could see no sign of their wounds. They might have been sleeping, had it not been for the awful stillness that lay over the place.
Lukys led her through the village to one of the cottages—the one she’d slept in, Erika recalled. Within they found Romaine slumped against the wall, Dale standing alongside him. Cara had been banished to the corner, her bonds tightened so she could not so much as stand. Erika clenched her fist at the sight of the woman, struggling to contain her rage.
“What happened here?” she asked again.
The Calafe said nothing, only sat staring at the floor. Shivering, Erika turned to the Perfugians.
“The Tangata caught them,” Dale whispered. His eyes were haunted, the tip of his spear trembling.
Lukys paced the cottage, glancing from Dale to Romaine. “They’re not all here,” he muttered. “There’s only…a dozen. I can’t find Travis. Tomorrow, we’ll search for tracks.”
“They’re gone,” Romaine croaked, though he did not look up. Blood showed on his bandages but no one had moved to change them yet.
“We don’t know that,” Lukys said resolutely, crouching alongside the axeman.
“They’re gone!” Romaine screamed. He lurched to his feet and Lukys flinched away. But Romaine ignored the recruit and staggered towards Cara. “You killed them all!”
The woman, the creature, Cara, did not move. She lay staring up at Romaine, helpless before his rage. Slowly she shook her head.
“It wasn’t me, Romaine,” she croaked, voice breaking. “Please, you have to belie—”
Her plea was cut short as Romaine slammed a boot into her stomach. Crying out, she curled into a ball, though with her arms bound behind her back, she had no way of protecting herself. The warrior drew back, preparing to throw another kick, but Lukys stepped between the axeman and the prisoner.
“Romaine,” he hissed, hands extended, “that’s enough.”
Erika raised an eyebrow at the recruit’s gall. Despite his lost hand, Romaine stood head and shoulders above the Perfugian. In a moment of passion, he might have struck Lukys down, but instead the Calafe hesitated, staring at the man before him. Lukys looked back, open grief—and anger—shining from his eyes.
“My friends are not gone, Romaine,” he hissed, though even to Erika it seemed a plea. “Travis, the others, they’re alive. They’re out there somewhere, either taken or on the run. I will not give up on them.”
Silence answered the recruit’s words, until finally Romaine shook his head. “Perhaps if they fled towards the river…” He trailed off, eyes distant, as though his mind was someplace else. “But even if they made the Illmoor…will the general send a ship? With so many Tangata in the area, they would risk being ambushed, overrun.”
“You’re saying we may be trapped here,” Erika whispered.
Silence fell over the group as each contemplated their likely fate. Erika’s thoughts turned once again to her failure. She couldn’t understand how the Tangata had even known the site was there. It had lain undiscovered for hundreds of years; yet the beasts had reached it just a day ahead of them. Surely that could not be coincidence.
Her eyes were drawn to where Cara lay. The beast had seen the map, had known the location of the site. But Cara had been with them night and day. Could she possess some other way of communicating with the other Tangata?
Slowly Erika rose to her feet. It was past time their prisoner answered some questions.
“You betrayed us,” she said, stepping towards the inert creature. “Somehow, you alerted your brethren to our destination.”
Cara didn’t respond, only lay looking up at her, amber eyes shining in the light of her gauntlet…
…Erika paused, glancing at her hand. The magic had ignited once more, unbidden. Her eyes were drawn back to the prisoner. Rage throbbed in her skull, mixing with the pain of her injuries. She didn’t know how, but she knew the beast had betrayed the location of the site to the Tangata. How she longed to hear the treacherous creature scream.
A growl built in Erika’s throat and before the others could react, she lifted the gauntleted fist and opened her hand. Light flashed as the magic responded. A scream tore from the traitor as light spilt from Erika’s fingers, though a second later it was silenced. Mouth still stretched wide, Cara arced against the ground, unable to breathe, to so much as cry out as the power of the Gods claimed her. Erika may have found herself useless in the caverns beneath the earth, but she could at least still do this, could still take her revenge.
Other than the unnatural light, there was no visible sign that the gauntlet did anything. But its effect on the traitor was clear. Veins stood out on Cara’s neck as she strained against her bindings, but even she apparently had her limits—or perhaps the magic stole away her strength.
The tiniest of squeaks came from the girl as Erika stepped closer, bathing Cara in the light of her gauntlet, determined to see her pain, to drink upon her agony. Blood began to run from the girl’s nose and her eyes bulged. Romaine stood nearby, but the axeman made no move to stop Erika, only watched on, eyes dark even in the light of the gauntlet.
Then a hand grabbed Erika by the arm and pulled her back. The light from her gauntlet went out. She spun, snarling as she found Lukys standing behind her. A sob came from the corner as Cara collapsed against the dirt.
“Why did you stop me?” Erika snarled, raising her fist. She kept it clenched, the power controlled, though it would be so easy…
“I will not see her tortured,” Lukys said, eyes shining.
“She betrayed us, doomed us all!” Erika shot back. “She deserves it.”
“Maybe,” Lukys said. His shoulders slumped and for a second, he seemed to hesitate. Then he shook his head. “No, I won’t become like them.”
“We should kill her,” Romaine murmured.
Erika glanced at the warrior, surprised by the suggestion. The man stood over Cara, staring down at her. A knife had appeared in his hand.
“Romaine, don’t…” Lukys murmured.
The Calafe warrior glanced at the recruit, then back at Cara. “She’s dangerous.”
“She may be our only bargaining chip,” the recruit replied. “If we cannot evade the Tangata. And she has information. We need to know more about…what she is.”
For a long moment, it seemed the Calafe wouldn’t listen. But finally he nodded. Retreating to the side of the cottage, he slumped to the ground and leaned against the wall. Silence fell once more between them, though soft sobs still came from the corner. Erika clenched and unclenched her fist, still feeling the need to unleash her anger, her rage. But she found no support in the eyes of Dale or Romaine; it seemed Lukys had won the argument for now. Slowly she relaxed, and a wave of exhaustion swept over her.
“Why do you hate them so much?”
Erika started as Cara’s voice whispered through the cottage. The four of them turned to stare at the captive, but Cara had eyes only for Romaine. At first, it seemed the warrior had not heard her words, but finally his head lifted, blue eyes glinting as they fixed on the creature who had betrayed them.
“You took everything from me,” Romaine whispered.
Erika glanced at the others, but no one moved to silence the traitor, and voice breaking, Cara spoke again:
“I’m sorry they took Calafe from you.”
“Calafe?” Romaine asked, his voice growing bitter. “What do I care for Calafe? Our kingdoms are a falsehood, a lie created to unite us against one another, so the people will not question their rulers. No, I hated you long before our king fell in the south.”
Erika flinched at the mention of that first, terrible battle ten years before. How long had it been…?
“Then why?” Cara interrupted her thoughts.
The room was silent now, all eyes fixed on the Calafe. Erika found herself holding her breath as she watched the broken man, and it seemed the room grew a little darker, as though the moon itself hid from his pain.
“I had a cottage like this once,” Romaine murmured. His eyes had a distant look; he didn’t seem to be talking to anyone now. “In the southern forests. Small, far from the city, safe. A peaceful place built by my wife and I, to raise our son.” His eyes flickered, focusing on Cara. “Until you took them from me.”
The moment stretched out as they watched the man that had carried them so far. Then Lukys stepped forward and crouched beside him. “I never knew,” the recruit murmured, placing a hand on the warrior’s shoulder. “Romaine, I’m so sorry.”
“Now you understand,” the Calafe whispered, eyes flickering back to where Cara lay. “What is a kingdom, beside family, beside friends, beside the people we love?” He trailed off, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “When the Tangata broke the truce, when they first invaded southern Calafe…” His eyes closed, the lines on his face growing deeper. “They took everything, left me with nothing but a hole, a void in my soul that I can never fill.”
Erika shivered. His story sounded all too familiar, though for her…it had been her father the Tangata had slain. Left with nothing, her mother had fled back to her homeland, before the true war came.
Romaine’s voice broke as he continued: “I would do anything for another day with them—one more hour,” he continued, “but that can never be, not until the end comes.” His eyes passed around the room, and Erika shivered as his gaze touched her. “And so I fight, seeking death.” He lifted his ruined hand. “But still it evades me.”
“You can’t die.” To Erika’s surprise, it was Cara who spoke.
Romaine’s eyes showed no emotion as he looked at her. “Why not?” he whispered, voice bitter. “Your kind have left me with nothing else.”
“All life is precious,” Cara whispered.
The axeman stared at her until she lowered her gaze, then shook his head. “Wise words, from a traitor.” He turned towards Lukys. “In the morning, you will leave me here. I have nothing left to give this world.”
“No,” Lukys replied, still crouched beside the axeman. He held up a finger when the Calafe looked set to argue. “We’re not leaving anyone behind, end of story.” He hesitated. “And you still have us, Romaine. You saved me, helped me when no one else would. Let me do the same for you.”
The warrior stared at the Perfugian for a long while, but finally he nodded. A tear streaked down his bearded cheek but otherwise he said nothing. Drawing in a breath, Lukys rose and faced the rest of the room.
“Anyone else have something to add?” he murmured. No one spoke, and after a moment he nodded. “Then tomorrow we march for the Illmoor. And pray to the Gods that we find Travis and the Gods already there.”
Lukys sat in the middle of the abandoned town, staring into the distance, remembering his first night in this haunted land. Just a few short days ago, and yet everything had changed. Back then, his biggest concern had been ensuring there wasn’t a mutiny amongst the other recruits.
Now those recruits were dead or gone, his mentor broken, and his friend…a traitor.
Cara.
A cold breeze blew through the empty window frames and he shuddered. How many nights now since they’d last had a fire, since he’d been warm? The night they’d slept in this abandoned place? They didn’t dare light one now, not with the Tangata likely close. Besides, he didn’t want to see what the fire would reveal—the faces of the dead, still lying where they had fallen.
They’re not all gone.
Travis and the others were still out there, they had to be, surely…but there was no way to know, no time to search for them. The Tangata were close, he could feel it. They could not remain on this side of the Illmoor much longer without being detected.
Then there was Cara. Dale had volunteered to take the first shift guarding her, saying he wouldn’t sleep anyway. Lukys was little different. Would any of them ever have a full night’s sleep again, after what they’d seen down in the darkness. Just the memory of those…things sent shivers down his spine.
And Cara had fought them, killed them. Had she truly done so only to save herself, to avenge the Tangata the monsters had killed, or…
To save her friends?
No, no, no.
Lukys shook his head, banishing the thought. He had seen the grey eyes, seen the terrible, animalistic rage. There was no questioning it—Cara was one of them.
The enemy.
He shivered, remembering how she’d looked as the Archivist unleashed her magic, hearing again her scream. Despite her betrayal, he could not bear to see such pain in the eyes of someone who’d been his friend.
Lukys cursed. Sleep wasn’t going to come. Letting out a sigh, he rose. Picking up the spear he’d taken from one of the fallen recruits, he moved outside. The night was clear, the moon nearly full now. Using its silver light, he made his way through the village, averting his gaze from the bodies still lying in the streets. He’d wanted to move them, to do something to honour his fallen comrades, but doing so would give them away should the Tangata return to this place. And they were still a full day’s march from the Illmoor.
Finally he found himself approaching the building they’d placed Cara in for the night. It was the smallest of the cottages, little larger than a woodshed, but with only one entrance and no windows, it made an adequate prison.
Movement came from the doorway and Lukys nodded a greeting as Dale stepped into the moonlight.
“Lukys,” his former rival said, then glanced at the sky and frowned. “It’s not your shift yet.”
Lukys shrugged. “Can’t sleep either.” He leaned against the wall of the building.
Dale watched him for a moment, but soon resumed his post in the doorway. They stood like that for a while, their breaths misting in the darkness, listening to the wind as it whistled through the broken roofs.
“Why?” Lukys said suddenly, stepping back into the street and facing Dale.
“Why what?” Dale asked quietly.
“Why did we fight, Dale?” he replied after a time, struggling to focus on just a single mystery in his life. “I never did anything to you.”
For a long while, Dale said nothing, only stood staring at the moon. “It seems like an age ago now, doesn’t it?” he said finally. “The games of children.” Then he shook his head. “You never had to do anything but be who you are.”
“What?”
“You’re a better man than me, Lukys,” came the reply. When Lukys only frowned, Dale chuckled. “You don’t know what it’s like, to be the son of someone important. I was expected to be great, to become a knight, or a politician.”
“What has that got to do with me?”
“Because I failed,” Dale said, as though that explained everything. “I thought the frontier would be the making of me.” He snorted. “What a lie that turned out to be. And then, in the moment of our greatest shame, it was you who stepped up. You, the son of a peasant, a nobody, who proved we might yet make something of ourselves.”
Lukys started, then snorted. “You mean during that first attack? I didn’t prove anything. I was so terrified I could barely hold my spear straight.”
“You led us, Lukys,” Dale murmured. “Just as you’ve been leading us ever since we crossed the Illmoor.”
“I…” Lukys trailed off, frowning.
Had he truly become their leader? He’d tried to be brave, to stand strong as Romaine had told him. But…it had only been an act, hadn’t it? Surely Dale and the others had seen through his charade?
“It’s okay,” Dale said, a wry grin twisting his lips. “I’ve accepted my place. If not for you, I think we would have all died down in those caverns. I’m glad to call you my officer, Lukys.”
Lukys opened his mouth, then closed it, struggling to swallow the emotion that welled in his throat.
“Thank you,” he managed at last. “And for what it’s worth, you’re not a failure, Dale. You saved my life, that night in the mountains. And you did not flee when those…creatures attacked.”
Dale laughed. “Maybe you’re rubbing off on me.”
Lukys smiled, but his joy was fleeting. Dale was but one of many concerns. His eyes were drawn to the darkness beyond the doorway. “I need to talk to her.”
Glancing inside, Dale shuddered. “I know.” He looked back at Lukys. “She saved us. Why?”
“It’s time I asked her.”
Dale watched him for a long moment, as though judging whether Lukys was ready for that confrontation. Finally, he nodded. “Then I’ll stretch my legs.” He walked away without looking back, leaving the entrance to Cara’s prison unguarded.
Letting out a breath Lukys hadn’t realised he’d been holding, he stepped inside before his nerves betrayed him. The floor of this cottage was dirt, but hard and dry beneath his boots. At first, he could see nothing in the dark, but as his eyes resolved, he found a pair of amber globes staring back at him. Cara took shape as she awkwardly pushed herself up off the ground, putting her back to the wall. They had stoppered her mouth again, but her eyes said everything.
Friend…
Her amber gaze bore into Lukys’s soul, until finally he strode forward and pulled down the strip of cloth they’d used to silence her.
“The creatures you killed,” he said, stepping back. “Why did you do it? To avenge your brethren?”
“No,” Cara whispered, her voice hoarse.
“Then why?”
“To save you,” she replied, “to save my friends.”
Lukys choked, a lump lodging in his throat. He struggled on.
“How can we be friends?” he hissed. “You lied to us!”
“I never lied.”
“I saw your eyes. They changed. You were…are a monster.”
Cara flinched at the word. “Is that what you see me as now?” she asked, and he could hear the pain in her voice. “A monster?”
“You’re one of them.”
“Maybe the Tangata are not the monsters you think.”
“Why do you still insist you’re not one of them?” Lukys asked.
“Because I’m not,” Cara whispered.
Truth, lies. Truth, lies.
Lukys shook his head, struggling to think. “It doesn’t matter what you say.” He looked away. “We saw the truth. No human could do what you did.” Letting out a breath, he faced her once more. “They’re going to kill you, if we ever reach Flumeer. But not before they make you talk.”
“Yes, I know what…your people are capable of.” She shuddered, not meeting Lukys’s eyes. “I thought…I thought you were better than them.”
“Than who?”
“Please, Lukys,” Cara whispered, ignoring his question. Her amber eyes caught his. “I never wanted to hurt anyone. Please, you have to help me…”
“I wish I could,” he murmured, surprised to find he meant it.
Help, help, help.
Pain shone from Cara’s eyes as he rose, but she said not a word. Nor did she turn away, and he forced his eyes closed, unable to look into those terrible depths any longer. Silently he hardened his heart.
“But I can’t.” Stepping forward, he shoved the gag back into place. “You are my enemy.”
With that, he turned and walked away.
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