The Marenon Chronicles Collection

Chapter Twenty-Eight





Julian stumbled up the spiraling stairs toward Hroth’s chamber. He couldn’t count the number of Leapers he had just taken down. The Possessor obviously knew Julian was coming after him and must have called every Leaper in Mudavé to take out his would-be assassin.

A giant gash in Julian’s leg had bled freely until he had ripped a piece of his shirt to wrap around it. The wound had slowed him down. With each opponent he was forced to call on every bit of magic he knew and rely on all the fighting techniques that Robin had taught him when Julian was a young teenager. Never before had he fought so many Leapers.

It would not have been so bad with Stühoc regulars. Though they could think and make decisions in a fight, they were weak and poorly trained. Leapers needed no training. Their brute strength and agility made them a dangerous foe. That, and their sharp claws that nearly matched a sword.

Finally facing the wooden door at the top, he felt so close to his quarry, yet he knew there was more to be done. There would be no sneaking in. There was no secret key. Julian could no longer rely on stealth. He knew that Reckoning Soldiers were running out of time.

As much as he could with his injured leg, he forced his shoulder into the door in hopes of breaking it down. He groaned in agony. The door was solid, and the first collision felt like it might have dislocated his shoulder. He tried it one more time, but it nearly made him pass out from the pain. The door wouldn’t budge this way.

The sound of screeching made him freeze. He had just faced so many Leapers and now more were coming. Hroth was surely intending to kill Julian.

But he wasn’t going to give up easily. He was glad to at least have the door to his back, knowing he would not be attacked from behind, but he didn’t have a lot of faith in his strength. His body had reached its limits and his limbs were ready to give out. When the first Leaper came into view, Julian readied himself with his sword, taking a defensive position. It jumped at him with lightening-quick speed, but Julian maneuvered his sword to meet it in the throat. That had been his easiest kill of the bunch.

But three more followed quickly behind. He hated their gray lizard skin and sharp teeth. He loathed their demonic claws that went for the killing strike every time.

He blocked and parried. A set of claws swiped his other leg, grazing his skin with small tears that showed he had just escaped a much more severe injury. In such an enclosed space, Julian actually held the advantage. He smashed one of them with the hilt of his sword and sent a fiery ball into the mouth of another, killing it instantly. Another clawed hand swung for his head, but Julian caught its wrist with his sword and it howled in pain as its hand fell to the ground. Using the distraction to his advantage, Julian shoved his sword into its chest, quickly ripped it out and cut the neck of the last Leaper.

For a moment, all was still again, but he knew it wouldn’t last. The brief silence was interrupted by another distant screech indicating that more were on the way. Julian was finished. His body couldn’t take any more fights with the Leapers. If he didn’t find a way through the door now, he would be cut to pieces.

He slammed a fist into the door, frustrated that he couldn’t get past it. That’s when he remembered how the Leapers had gotten through when they had brought him to Hroth earlier.

He looked at the stairs below him and found the hand he had severed from the Leaper. He grabbed it and used his sword to cut the finger off near the palm. The long nail acted as a key, but he knew he would have to be precise in turning the finger so it would unlatch the lock.

He didn’t know if the slot had been formed to fit a specific Leaper or all of them, but he knew he had to try. The loud grunting and screaming from the stairs below told him he had about fifteen seconds to figure it out.

He twisted the finger in every direction. He shoved, he pulled, but no adjustment would cause the lock to unlatch.

Maybe ten seconds.

He took a deep breath and slowed his movements, knowing that rushing would produce no results.

They’re almost here!

Sweat dripped past his eyes, making him blink. He did a short twist to the left, then a sharp movement to the right and pushed.

Click.

He swung the door open, relieved that it had worked. The first set of Leapers appeared, ready to take his head off, but Julian shoved his way through the door and turned to slam it shut. The door smashed three sets of arms as he pushed against the door with his shoulder. Having left his sword on the stairwell, he reached into his cloak and pulled out his dagger, swiping at the hands trying to push through into the room. He cut at the long, clawed fingers as the gray blood painted the side of the wall and wooden door. Finally, he was able to slam the door shut and he quickly locked the bolt in place. He shoved his knife into the keyhole, calling on every bit of strength he had to send electric currents through the end, melting the lock so they couldn’t come through. Though it melted his dagger with the rest of the lock, no more Leapers would be getting in anytime soon.

He turned sharply to see Hroth facing him, standing next to his Leaper guard. Julian suddenly felt exposed in his weaponless state, save for the one Leaper finger in his right hand. He hadn’t been afraid of facing Hroth; he didn’t think the Possessor had any magical fighting abilities.

Did you think I would stay in here without protection?

Julian ignored him. He wasn’t going to dignify the Stühoc by communicating with him in thought.

As best as he could, Julian held a defensive position as the Leaper stepped slowly toward him. Julian could feel no more magic within him. There was nothing else to call on. He could barely move as the Leaper grabbed his right shoulder with one hand and with the other it shoved its claws through the same shoulder and into the wood of the door, pinning Julian like a ragdoll, his feet dangling above the ground.

Julian didn’t even have the strength to scream as pain like he had never felt before shot through his body. The blood from his wounds pooled onto the ground beneath him. The Leaper stared deep into Julian, studying his eyes. Hroth was probably telling the creature to hold its composure so it wouldn’t kill him yet.

Hroth stepped forward.

What did you think you would accomplish by coming here? Did you think you could defeat me?

“I just want you dead,” Julian answered weakly. “With you dead, your Sleepers will wake up.”

What makes you think that?

Julian rested his head against the door behind him. His body was ready to pass out in order to cope with the pain he felt.

“Speak to me.” Julian said.

I don’t speak.

“Use your words. Your mouth. Speak to me.”

No.

Julian began to breath harder. His hatred for Hroth began to grow into a hot rage of loathing. He didn’t care if it cost him his life. He wanted the coward to suffer as he had made Julian suffer. He tightly gripped the stiff finger he had used to unlock the door.

“You used me,” Julian said. “You possessed men and nearly brought down all of Marenon.”

Nearly?

“Nearly,” he said, struggling to breath. “The Reckoning soldiers are advancing. You are losing the battle. Your Sleepers are almost all dead.”

And the remaining two are doing their job well.

“You are their voice, right? When you die, the voice inside their head is gone.”

But I’m not dying today.

Before the Leaper could react, Julian brought the clawed finger up and stabbed downward into the beast's right eye. The Leaper dropped Julian, and with a surge of adrenaline, Julian jumped forward and tackled the Leaper to the ground. With his good arm he pulled out the sharp claw from the Leaper’s eye and stabbed it again and again repeatedly. The Leaper tried to shove Julian off of it, but Julian was unrelenting. He didn’t stop until the Leaper’s nerves produced no more movement, and its labored breath ceased altogether.

With the mix of gray and red blood all over his face and body, Julian looked up at Hroth who stood silently. Julian used every bit of strength he had left to stand. He hoped he would have enough to finish Hroth.

“Speak to me,” Julian said.

I am speaking to you.

Julian stepped forward and reached for Hroth’s throat. He threw back the Stühoc’s hood, revealing his pasty, gray skin that almost looked white. His eyes were completely white, possibly indicating that he was blind. Scars ran up and down the side of his cheeks, and wrinkles shoved deep into a contorted, worried face. He was the ugliest Stühoc Julian had ever seen.

“I said, speak to me!”

A wheezing breath came from Hroth’s throat as Julian gripped harder. “What do you want me to say?” His voice was raspy and hoarse, as though he hadn’t used it in years.

“Is Silas still alive?”

“I don’t know.”

Julian squeezed tighter.

“Has your servant killed him?”

“Not yet.”

“Where is he?”

“The Red Gate.”

Julian paused for a moment, thankful to know that Silas wasn’t dead yet. That meant there was some hope left.

“You ruined me,” Julian told him. “You used me against my own allies. You used me to kill innocent people. Before you die, I want you to know that you haven’t won. All of this did nothing for you or the Stühocs. I want you to die knowing that you have lost the war, and that Silas has brought about his Reckoning.”

Even with their blinded whites, Julian could see the fear in Hroth’s eyes. It was a fear of knowing what was about to happen. It was the fear of knowing that the end was at hand, and there was no escaping it.

Julian gripped the Leaper claw one last time, and with a quick stab to the side of the head, ended Hroth’s wretched life.

*****

Alric watched Marcus as he dropped to the floor of the platform at the top of the Pyramid, holding his head as though some invisible object had hit it. The Sphere above them had been prepped to let out another blast, but Marcus had no ability to command it now for some reason.

“It’s gone!” Marcus yelled out. “Where are you? Tell me what to do!”

Alric looked to his left at Coffman. His eyes were closed, but the man was still breathing. He looked back at his right to Marcus. Alric knew if there was ever a moment to move, this was it. He reached a hand forward, beginning a slow crawl toward the pedestal.

“Where are you going?” Coffman muttered.

“Don’t you worry, buddy. I’ll be back.”

He pushed himself forward. Somehow he found the strength to bring himself upright, hopping forward with the one leg that wasn’t bloody and shattered. He reached down and grabbed a sword off the ground and came within a foot of Marcus.

The man looked up at Alric with tears in his eyes.

“Are you going to kill me?”

“Planned on it,” Alric said.

“I don’t – I don’t know what happened!”

“What, the reason you fell over and started acting crazy?”

“The voice is gone! I can’t hear him! I feel like, like I just woke up! I don’t know what’s happening!”

“You just killed thousands of people, that’s what’s happened.”

“But I, I just…”

Alric slapped Marcus on the side of the head with the flat of the sword, sending him to the ground, unconscious.

He staggered toward the pedestal as he pulled out the two medallions. The Sphere above his head had swelled to a size that Alric had never seen before. He loathed the weapon. It had done so much damage and threatened his own life on too many occasions already. He placed the orange medallion in its designated slot, then the purple one.

“It’s up to you now, Silas,” Alric said as he stepped away from the pedestal. He grabbed Marcus by the shirt and used all of his strength to drag the unconscious body to the pedestal. With a heave, he lifted him and laid him across the top of it. If what Silas said was true, and he could destroy the medallions from far away, Marcus would die along with the powerful relics.

He dragged himself next to Coffman and stuck his head over the side of the Pyramid, yelling for one of the sarians to pick them up. He then looked out over the horizon and could see that Reckoning troops had advanced and were fighting against the Stühocs. The Soldiers of the Dead were finished.

Skarret was the first to come flying. With its large talons, it scooped up both Alric and Coffman and fluttered safely to the ground.

So many injured lay around Alric. Looking down at his own leg, he was surprised that he was still conscious, but his breathing had become heavier and shallower. He wasn’t dying. At least, he didn’t think he was. He’d had worse injuries than this hadn’t he? Maybe not.

He looked up and saw Nalani.

Is she breathing?

He got no answer to the question. He just rested his head on the dirt beneath him, hoping she would make it. Then, darkness.

*****

Julian had fallen on the ground with Hroth’s dead body next to him. He had to move. He couldn’t stay here. With all the smashing and clawing at the door, Julian knew it would give soon.

With his left hand he slowly reached under his tunic and pulled out the sarian whistle. He had no idea how far Eden was from the Stühoc fortress. He could hear the battle raging closer than before. That was good news. That meant that the Reckoning troops were advancing. But he didn’t even know if Eden was still alive, much less within range to hear his call.

He brought the whistle to his lips, took a deep breath and blew. The sound had a much lower tone than anything that size should have made. He never knew why this was so, but chalked it up to the wonderful magic of Marenon. No one would ever uncover the land’s mysteries completely. No one should ever try. Such an attempt would drive a person to insanity.

He blew again, breathing one last resonating note before he let the whistle drop to his chest. If the sarian hadn’t heard it by that point then it would never come.

Julian wasn’t sad by this. When he started this mission he hadn’t expected to make it this far. He had succeeded. He had finally completed a mission without messing everything up. A slight grin formed at the side of his mouth at this. He had done wrong by so many people. He was responsible for the death of innocents. His regret wouldn’t leave him as long as he lived. But he also knew that in the end, he came to be where he needed to be all along. He had finished what he needed to accomplish.

The rest was up to Silas – just as it had been intended from the beginning.

Julian closed his eyes. He wanted to let sleep take him. He desperately needed it, or at least his body thought he needed it. Before he slipped into a soft dreamland that might have been his last, a faint sound jolted him to his senses.

It wasn’t the thrashing and screeching of the Leapers from the other side of the door that seemed to never end. It was something much softer, much sweeter. He looked up to the window of the room and saw her.

Eden.

She flapped her wings and let out a squawk, beckoning Julian to join her. He had never felt his heart so light. Perhaps his life had not ended. Perhaps this wasn’t his last day as he had led himself to believe.

Pain shot through his body as he pulled himself up. Eden edged closer to the side, allowing Julian to use as little strength as possible to climb onto her back. Once he was secure, he instructed her to go up.

The sight below him revealed that the Stühocs were losing. The Reckoning soldiers had shaken the enemy’s confidence and surged ahead toward the city center, ready to take the entire fortress.

Eden pushed herself upward where Julian could see in every direction. He looked over and across the Reemlock Mountains. Smoke billowed in the distance away from the city and a pit formed inside Julian’s stomach.

Silas.

He did not have a plan, but even if he could provide a distraction, he could possibly help Silas accomplish the rest of his mission. With a sharp kick that caused Julian to wince in pain, he urged Eden forward toward the Red Gate.