Ruein: Fires of Haraden: Action/Adventure Necromancy Series (Books of Ruein Book 2), G.O. Turner [little bear else holmelund minarik txt] 📗

or Ruein, but rather for the Lightbringer. Ruein pressed her sister against an alley wall, holding her up to draw breaths.

Ceer swiveled his head, creaking as he checked both ways. “City got deserted.”

Ruein nodded. “They know. Haraden knows we are coming.”

Twigs said, “Then we best figure out how we’re getting out of this mess. My little melon won’t look so good at the end of a pike.”

“We’ve been through the gates once already,” Liv added between pants. “Gotta figure there’ll be thirty…maybe fifty guards by now.”

There was no way they could take that on, not under these conditions.

Had Rue’s old necromancy gem not turned out to be a lich phylactery, perhaps that might’ve been possible—she could’ve doubled her summoning numbers. But, now?

She sneered at the thought. Better Ruein had crushed it under her heel. She’d find another way.

They returned to their rain-soaked dash of the outer city. Passing workshops and stores, pausing at a stable. A few horses and ponies were corralled alongside riding lizards, but all seemed too unwieldy in this circumstance. They would not be riding out… Not this way.

Several streets farther, they stopped one last time.

The massive outer city wall towered over twenty yards tall. Its singular arch stood as a very occupied space. A dark-orc phalanx stood highlighted within the splashes of rain. Their breath steamed the cool night air. Rows of polearm weapons in the back, the front line a wall of shields and blades.

Ruein said to Twigs, “Suppose…you could shape us another bridge?”

The gnome drooped a slow reticent denial.

The half-orc nodded to the gate, dropping a wooden hand on Ruein’s shoulder.

“You’ve something, Ceer?”

He grinned. “Ceer take maybe twenty if Ruein and Liv take rest.”

“Oh sure.” Liv leaned around the corner, then glowered back. “That’s what, fifteen each?”

Ruein’s eyes sank to the puddle at her boots. There were just too many. Too damned much. This was supposed to be her task. There was nothing she could lose that she hadn’t already lost. Had she fallen alone, Arim and Nayr would’ve still had their auntie and grandpa to tuck them in at night.

She’d come in trade of a dragon protecting her family.

A chasm rent at Ruein’s unmoving heart. Its ache tore at those ephemeral threads stretching back to a life once felt. The entirety of the North wanted her sister, wanted Liv dead. This was no longer a job. It’d become all too grave.

Those ranks had to be thinned. “I’m going to lead them away.”

Liv groused, “The hell you—”

“Hear me out.” Ruein raised her arm. “Take up a position over there. Say, two blocks from the gate. Be ready for our escape when I get back. I’ll create an opening. We’ll charge to break through.”

Liv grabbed her wrist, lowering her arm. “No tricks?”

“Oh, the trick will be on them. Just wait for my return and be ready.”

“I’ll do you one better.” Twigs cocked back. “That winged bird back there had the right idea. I may not do invisible, but I can sure as hell make certain they don’t see us coming.”

Ruein nodded. “Fine. Do what you can.”

Liv sucked in a long breath as she rose from the alley wall. Helping Twigs onto Ceer’s good shoulder, the three began to move off. Ruein backpedaled, casting her gaze through the gray shades of that dark alley.

Her sister gave her a last look. The Lightbringer’s trust was still new, but somehow felt exposed.

Ruein turned and splashed off, away from her sister. She’d show her.

Unencumbered by the group, Ruein hastened her pace. The deserted city streets would work well in her favor. She’d no need to hide. Ruein rapidly traversed to the far side from the gate.

At a road’s end, she looked out over the wide ground between the last building and the rising wall. The gate was but a few blocks out of sight to her left.

This would do.

Striding to another alley, Ruein searched the rear of a workshop. An inverted pail rested upon a hook. She snatched it down and headed back for the main street. Runoff rambled along gutters, streaming rivulets down building sides. Torrents came in swathes with the wind.

Yet, a place within her remained as dry as a desert. Bits of Ruein swirled in her gut. Her grip scrunched as she tightened upon the glaive. A repugnant acceptance of what she was about to do.

Ruein fell into draconic speech. Leather fingers gestured through their arcane dance. The dark welled from within as she crouched and clawed her hands back up through the ether.

Her neck cricked as she craned her head. An immense billowing darkness rolled open before her, growing higher.

Emerging from the summoned darkness, a large, bleached set of claws rose. A dense jawbone levered oversized tusks above the heavy collection of clavicle, spine, ribcage, and hips. The clouds diminished, unveiling the towering skeleton before her. It looked down upon her from three yards over. Its huge empty eye sockets could have once been a troll. Ruein found no relief in knowing that was not the case. Anything summoned from the timeless dark was simply a nightmare of fantasy. She couldn’t summon an army, but maybe this—

This one answered to her.

Lifting the pail, Ruein hooked it upon an outstretched claw.

She reached into her component pouch for that tiny felt bag. Drawing out, she dumped its contents: pitch wrapped in black fur. Squeezing them, she unleashed her second spell. Darkness flowed through her arm and bloomed from the undead’s held bucket.

Ruein stepped back, allowing the rain to wash away the spent remnants. She gazed over the dome of darkness surrounding her summoned giant.

“I have given you a bucket.” She thrust an arm along the length of the wall. “Down that way is a group of dark-skinned orcs.”

The troll skeleton shifted within the dark. Bones drifted within, poking through as its claw rose before its goal. “When the rain has filled your bucket, these will be your instructions.”

27

Ruein raced through the back alleys, giving a wide circle from the gate to where Liv