Wrath of the Forgotten: Descendants of the Fall Book II, Hodges, Aaron [top 10 non fiction books of all time txt] 📗

Lukys swallowed as she swung away from him, his entire body trembling. Had she simply read his mind, or had he been broadcasting those memories? Swallowing, he forced the fears away. He had to be strong.

“What do you want with us?” he asked, taking a step towards her.

A hand caught him before he could take another. He muffled a curse as Sophia dragged him back to where the other Tangata stood, though the Matriarch paid him no attention now.

I understand there are other humans without, Adonis? she asked, moving to stand before him.

Yes, Matriarch, he replied. We brought fifteen for assignment.

So many, the Matriarch mused. And have you chosen one of your own?

Adonis hesitated, but finally he shook his head. Lukys frowned at the exchange, but the Matriarch continued.

You are of the third generation, Adonis, she reproached him. The last of my true progeny. You cannot delay forever, however distasteful you consider the chore. Then she sighed and waved a hand. But let that be a matter for another day. Tell me, how did so many come into your possession?

Adonis’s eyes flickered to where Lukys stood before returning to the Matriarch. The humans led an expedition into our territory, he said, his mental voice dropping to a murmur.

An expedition? To what ends?

Adonis swallowed visibly. They had discovered another of our Birthing Grounds. Thankfully, the human’s broadcasts forewarned us. We arrived first.

Good. Perhaps now the humans will respect our territory, she paused. And what did you discover there?

The Old Ones, Matriarch, he whispered.

His words were met with a stunned silence. Watching the Matriarch’s face, Lukys thought he glimpsed something there…of wonder, or hope? The thought sent a tremor down his spine as he remembered the creatures Adonis spoke of, the so-called “Old Ones.” He could still recall the madness in their eyes, the bloodlust. They had slain even the Tangata that had woken them.

Suddenly he realised that words were no longer flowing through his mind, and looking up he saw the eyes of Adonis and the Matriarch on him. Adonis licked his lips, glancing uncertainly at his leader.

The human is right, he said finally. The centuries had destroyed their minds. We fled before the creatures killed us all.

Is that so? The Matriarch took a step towards Lukys, her eyes boring into him once more. And how did the humans know where to look for this Birthing Ground?

We do not know, Matriarch, Adonis replied.

The milky eyes did not leave Lukys. Well, human?

Lukys shivered, an image of the Archivist’s map rising unbidden in his mind. Desperately he tried to press it back down, to hide it away. Laughter rasped from the aged creature as she stepped closer.

He resists me. Her whispers reverberated through Lukys’s mind. Let us see your strength then, human.

A sudden, searing pain blinded Lukys at her words. In that instant, he felt as though his very being were being washed away, and in the distance he heard a voice crying out, agony ringing in his ears. The strength went from his legs and he sank to the ground. For a second the cold stones offered relief—but then another wave broke upon his soul, and the map he had glimpsed just once sprang to life in his mind.

Coloured lines and stars and circles appeared before his inner eyes, each depicting some real-life feature of the world in which they lived—mountains and forests and rivers and so much more. Inevitably his eyes were drawn to a scattering of scarlet stars spread throughout the kingdoms. The ancient sites of the Gods, what the Tangata had called their Birthing Grounds.

Lukys’s pain vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Letting out a cry of relief, he slumped against the ground, sobbing softly into the granite floor. He knew, in that moment he had betrayed his people. The secrets of that map were important in a way none of them had ever realised, not until they’d stepped foot in those dark tunnels and discovered the Old Ones waiting.

Ahhh, so there is a map! Despite his misery, Lukys could not keep out the words of the Matriarch. It shows all of our Birthing Grounds, even those long forgotten.

There are others? Adonis asked, his mental voice betraying his excitement.

Several… Lukys looked up as the Matriarch hesitated, and saw a frown creasing her face. Even…could it be…the home of the Anahera?

Truly? Adonis hissed. Then there is a chance—

No, the Matriarch interrupted. I have seen your memories; our people are not prepared for a confrontation with the Anahera, not yet.

Then let us forge an accord! Adonis cried. Surely they must understand our plight—

Guard your thoughts, Adonis, the Matriarch interrupted, flicking a glance at Lukys. Adonis swallowed visibly at the creature’s admonishment, and Lukys wondered what he had been about to reveal. After a moment, the Matriarch went on: No, the risk is too great. The Anahera are as likely to slaughter us as treat with us. But…there is another Birthing Ground yet to uncover. Perhaps…

Matriarch…is that wise?

An icy feeling spread through Lukys’s gut—fear. But not his own. Images flickered through his mind as he stared at Adonis, of bloodshed and death and vicious creatures screaming in the darkness. Adonis too feared the Old Ones.

We must take the risk, she said, dismissing his objections. Go, Adonis. If you will not take an assignment, then this is your task. Take five of our finest warrior pairs and find this final Birthing Ground. If the Old Ones slumber there, wake them, and do your best to bring them back to us.

The map welled in Lukys’s mind again, but this time it came not from him, but the Matriarch—she was projecting it to Adonis. He found his focus drawn to one of the scarlet stars he’d paid little attention to. There, far in the south, deep in the ancestral lands of the Tangata, on an island not far off the coast.

“No,” he whispered, finally struggling to rise. His heart hammered in his chest and he held out a hand. “No, you can’t, those