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

vanished, returning them to the world. Erika watched as the woman put the object away. It had to be another artefact from the Gods.

They waited a few minutes more before the spy resumed her station at the tiller and directed them out into the currents.

“Where did you find that?” Erika whispered as the wind filled their sails.

The woman shrugged. “You are not the only one who searches for remnants from before The Fall, Archivist,” she replied.

Erika nodded, resuming her seat at the bow. “Why don’t you use it all the time?”

The woman frowned as she looked up from the rudder. “Have you not discovered the limitations of your own artefact, Archivist?”

“Ah,” Erika nodded. “It draws from your own strength?”

The spy obviously didn’t deign the question worthy of reply, for her lips remained pursed closed, eyes on the swirling mists. Erika let out a sigh, following her gaze, wondering at the situation she had gotten herself into. She had only this unnamed woman’s word that she could trust the king.

“My name is Erika, by the way,” she murmured after a time, then: “What should I call you?

Before, Erika had rarely bothered with names. Those worthy of her respect already knew her name, and she knew theirs. Those of lesser rank used the title “Archivist.” It was the same with all those who participated in the dance of power amongst the Flumeeren nobility. But after betraying the queen and fleeing her adopted nation, it no longer seemed quite…right.

The spy did not reply immediately, and Erika sighed, returning her gaze to the darkness. It was going to be a long trip to Gemaho—

“You may call me Maisie,” her companion finally whispered. “And I suggest you get some sleep. We cannot travel during the daylight. I will need someone to keep watch while I rest, or it will be a long three days to the Fortress Illmoor.”

3

The Soldier

The Tangatan leader stood in the centre of the clearing, its back turned towards Lukys, gaze lifted to the cliffs hemming the valley. Long white hair hung across its broad shoulders and like most Tangata, its only weapon was a dagger worn on its belt. A plain tunic and cotton leggings would have suggested a simple upbringing amongst humans, but was normal attire for the Tangata. Indeed, with its stiff posture and hands clasped behind its back, there was an almost noble bearing about this individual.

Lukys hesitated at the sight of the lone figure, glancing back at his Tangatan escort, but she said nothing. She had freed him of his bonds and now watched on with an expectant look. Taking his cue, Lukys swallowed and stepped into the clearing. Sunlight washed across his face and he felt his fears dissipate. Lifting his head to the sky, he drew strength from its warmth, the night’s chill banished in an instant.

A flicker at the edge of his vision drew Lukys’s gaze back to the Tangatan leader. He swallowed as he found the creature now watching him, grey eyes seemingly darker despite the daylight. He’d never paid attention to the differences between individual Tangata, but there was something distinctive about the creature before him, an aura of power, of invincibility, that set his knees shaking.

Human. The voice was louder than those of the guards, than the whispers of the others. Lukys grated his teeth, struggling to hold himself in place, to fight the urge to flee. It is time we spoke.

Lukys shuddered, but he was slowly getting used to the voices, and he straightened. “I am a soldier of Perfugia,” he said shortly, hoping the creature was unaware of their true reputation, “and you will get nothing from me.”

Perfugia? Laughter whispered in Lukys’s ears as the creature paced a circle around him. His courage wilted beneath that appraisal and he found himself shrinking, as though to escape his captor’s scrutiny. But there was no escaping the words in his mind. Ah yes, I see the blue beneath the filth. A fitting addition.

Lukys flinched as the creature came to a stop before him. Its face was just a few inches from his own. A sickly smile twisted its lips as it leaned closer.

Tell me, human, how does it feel to be betrayed by your own kind?

A lump lodged in Lukys’s throat and he knew he was exposed, his every secret laid bare beneath this monster’s gaze. It knew he was a failure, that the Sovereigns of Perfugia sent the worst of their people to the frontier to die, rather than consume precious resources. His gaze dropped to the forest flaw.

“My name is Lukys.” It felt important to speak the words, to remind himself that he was no longer the naïve man who had arrived in Fogmore all those weeks ago. He had made something of himself since those first days, had stood against the Tangata and creatures far worse. Straightening, he looked again at the Tangata. Suddenly his captor no longer seemed quite so intimidating. “What do you want, beast?”

A scowl crossed the creature’s face. Respect, human. The words rumbled in his mind and he glimpsed the anger in those terrible grey eyes. I am called Adonis. You would do well to remember the name.

An icy breeze blew across Lukys’s neck as the creature turned away, hands clasped behind its back once more. Lukys opened his mouth, then closed it, struggling to string together a sentence in his mind.

“My apologies,” he said, finally managing to approximate something resembling words. “I…didn’t realise you used names.”

Laughter rasped from the creature’s throat as it swung on him, causing Lukys to flinch.

How little you humans think of us, its voice whispered in his mind.

Lukys clenched his fists and met the creature’s gaze. He could see the loathing there, the hatred. “Why didn’t you kill me?” he asked abruptly.

The Tangatan leader did not reply immediately. It stood watching him with those cold eyes, thin lips pursed, long white hair waving gently in a breeze. Anger touched Lukys as he suffered that piercing gaze, and he