Age of Myth (The Legends of the First Empire #1)

“That wasn’t our intention. We were lost,” Persephone said.

“Should have thrown a bit of salt on your trail. That would have kept the leshies away.”

Raithe sent a sharp look at Malcolm, who shrugged.

“How did you find this place?” Malcolm asked, still looking at the chiseled markings that lined the room.

“Tura showed me.” Suri busied herself by squeezing the wetness out of her clothes. “Not many secrets in this forest that old Tura didn’t know. There’s five of these stone rooms under the Crescent. Most are nicer than this. Pretty metal shirts are inside some. I tried one on, real heavy and too small. Another one has horns, pipes, and a box with strings that make wonderful sounds when you pluck them.”

Satisfied with her clothes, Suri walked behind one of the pillars and returned with her arms filled with blankets. She handed them out—thick soft cloths, one of which Persephone draped around herself. Suri wrapped one over her shoulders and lay down beside the green stone. Minna snuggled up alongside the mystic.

“This is a rol—a Dherg safe house.” Malcolm pulled his blanket up like a cloak, complete with a hood. “A remnant of the Belgric War.”

“The what?” Raithe asked.

“A war between the Fhrey and the Dherg, who used hidden places like this to retreat to or stage attacks from. That’s where the term Dherg comes from. It means ‘vile mole’ in the Fhrey language.”

“How do you know that?” Persephone asked.

Malcolm shrugged. “I lived with the Fhrey.”

“You fought for them?” Persephone asked, focusing more on his spear than on the man.

“No, nothing like that. I was a slave.” Malcolm touched the metal band around his neck.

“Oh,” she said, not knowing what else to say.

“Wasn’t so bad. Alon Rhist is a beautiful place. I suspect my life was better than it would have been in one of the Rhune villages. I was warm, safe, had plenty of food, and a lot to learn.”

“You ran away?”

“Yes.” Malcolm paused, his eyes betraying a faraway thought. “Funny how being well cared for isn’t enough. My labors were light, and as long as I performed my tasks, I wasn’t poorly treated. In some ways, I was living a princely life, but…” He pulled his blanket tighter. “Raithe and I haven’t had a decent meal in days. We’re always wet, cold, hungry, and dirty beyond belief. And yet I much prefer my new life over the days spent in Alon Rhist.”

He sat down near the glowing stone. “Fulfillment comes from striving to succeed, to survive by your own wits and strength. Such things make each of us who we are.” Using the blanket, he rubbed his hair. “You lose that in captivity, lose yourself, and that loss saps your capacity for joy. I think comfort can be a curse, an addiction that without warning or notice erodes hope. You know what I mean?” He looked at each of them, but no one answered. “Live with it long enough and the prison stops being the walls or the guards. Instead, it’s the fear you can’t survive on your own, the belief you aren’t as capable, or as worthy, as others. I think everyone has the capacity to do great things, to rise above their everyday lives; they just need a little push now and then.”

Minna’s head lifted. Her ears tilted toward the door.

Outside the growls grew louder, though the scratching had stopped. A yelp was cut short. A thunderous roar followed, making them all jump.

Another wolf cried out and then a third.

Suri startled everyone by shouting, “Don’t be a stubborn fool, Char! Run!”

“What’s going on?” Persephone asked, but Suri was too focused on the sounds beyond the door.

Another wolf yelped, and Suri got to her feet. So did Minna. Neither left the light of the green stone, but both stared fearfully at the closed entrance.

Silence. Not a sound from inside or out.

Suri’s tattoos masked much of her expression, but tears ran down her cheeks. “You should have run, you stupid, stupid fool,” she whispered.

Persephone could hear her breathing as they waited. “Suri, what just—”

BOOM!

Each of them jumped as something powerful struck the stone door.

Raithe drew his sword again. It flashed green, reflecting the glow of the stone. Malcolm grabbed his spear, letting his blanket fall.

BOOM!

Dust and bits of rock flew.

They all got to their feet then.

“What is that?” Raithe asked.

“Grin,” Suri replied.

For the first time, Persephone saw unabashed fear on the girl’s face.

“Can she get in?”

Suri hesitated, and everyone knew the answer before she replied, “On her hind legs, she’s twice as tall as me.”

“Is there any way to brace the door?” Persephone asked.

Suri shook her head.

BOOM!

“Will it hold against the pounding?” Malcolm asked as another cloud of dust and stone chips flew from the wall.

“It is just a bear, right?” Persephone asked. “Why would she try to get in here?”

“She wants us for dinner, I think,” Raithe replied.

“But why? I’m pretty sure she just killed more than one wolf. Should have plenty of food already. More than she can possibly eat.”

BOOM!

Persephone felt the power of the blow shake the room. A small metal shield that she hadn’t seen earlier fell off the wall. It rolled, wobbling faster and faster before coming to a noisy stop.

BOOM!

“Why would a bear ignore a feast to throw itself against a stone wall?” Malcolm asked.

They braced for the next attack. Instead, the roar came again.

They waited.

Silence.

Suri walked to the door, her cheeks still wet. She placed her hands against the stone.

They all waited.

Then Suri turned. “She’s gone.”





CHAPTER TEN


The Galantians




There is an old clan saying: When a stranger comes to the door, always be generous because it might be a god in disguise. In my experience, gods do not use disguises. They are too arrogant.

—THE BOOK OF BRIN





The next morning they found six dead wolves outside the rol. No sign of Grin the Brown, only the bodies and the blood spattered on the crevice’s stone walls. Suri paused for several minutes beside the wolf with the burn mark on its fur.

The men kept their blankets but Persephone and Suri put the others back. Raithe also took the metal shield that had fallen during Grin’s attack. Remarkably light, it was decorated with the same fancy circles and designs as those on the walls of the rol. Raithe offered to draw straws with Malcolm for it, but the ex-slave declined. He preferred the spear and needed both hands to wield it.

A morning mist filled the forest. In the days he and Malcolm had spent in the Crescent, Raithe had seen it many times, but the haze was still unnerving. There were no forests in Dureya, and the few trees that managed to grow were stunted, emaciated things. He’d grown up in open, rocky highlands of grass and lichen-covered stone, and it felt unnatural to be surrounded by trees and wrapped in fog. The haze further supported Raithe’s belief that they were walking in a perilous world of guarded secrets and murky mysteries. Trees appeared and faded in the mist as if by choice—silent watchers, sentinels of spirits and gods. Caught early enough, the waking forest had no time to disguise itself into something mundane. This was a place of enchantments, a place where anything could happen.

Suri led them back through the falls and up to the ridge, taking time to explain where they had gone wrong. The mystic pointed at trees as if one could be distinguished from another. When she was done all three nodded, even though Raithe remained clueless. By the time they returned to the cascade, the mist was in full retreat and lingered only in isolated lowlying areas.