Underground: The Day of the Sun: Chronicles of Caleath

By Rosalie Skinner

After the battle of Invaded, Caleath searches for his friends whisked underground, where magic is scorned and shackled.
He must rescue Raul and Nasith before the Day of the Sun. Beneath the artificial illumination of a strange red orb Caleath begins his journey plagued by relentless light.
Accepting custody of a confused young dread lord and guided by a feisty Gabrielle, Caleath struggles to unravel the conspiracy holding a race in thrall.
His journey to rescue Nasith and save Raul from being sacrificed drives him into the hands if his enemy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: MuseItUp Publishing
• Release date: Jan 11, 2013
• ISBN: 9781771272445

Book preview

Back Cover

Science Fiction Fantasy Epic by Rosalie Skinner

After the battle of Invaded, Caleath searches for his friends whisked underground, where magic is scorned and shackled.

He must rescue Raul and Nasith before the Day of the Sun. Beneath the artificial illumination of a strange red orb Caleath begins his journey plagued by relentless light.

Accepting custody of a confused young dread lord and guided by a feisty Gabrielle, Caleath struggles to unravel the conspiracy holding a race in thrall.

His journey to rescue Nasith and save Raul from being sacrificed drives him into the hands if his enemy.

Underground: Day of the Sun © 2013 by Rosalie Skinner

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, or events, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

MuseItUp Publishing

14878 James, Pierrefonds, Quebec, Canada, H9H 1P5

Cover Art © 2012 by Delilah K. Stephans

Edited by Lea Schizas

Copyedited by Christine I. Speakman

Layout and Book Production by Lea Schizas

eBook ISBN: 978-1-77127-244-5

First eBook Edition *January 2013

Production by MuseItUp Publishing

To Phill,

Hold my hand...and I will take you into my dreams.

—Cailyn, July 2011.

Acknowledgements

Thanks go again to Steve and Lisa Skinner, Edith Parzefall and those readers who wait patiently for new adventures to arrive. As always I am indebted to Matt Bryant and Rachel Lewis Photography for the photos used in the covers and promotion. Mick Pollock, Tim St Clair, and Trisha, my thanks for creating the website. Thanks also go to Lea Schizas, Chris Speakman and the team at Museitup Publishing.

Underground: The Day of the Sun

The Chronicles of Caleath

Exiled: Autumn’s Peril

Exiled: Winter’s Curse

Exiled: The Legacy of Lathraine’s Pledge

Exiled: The Battle for Enderseer Hold

Invaded: The Darkest Day

Underground: The Day of the Sun

Adrift: In Search of Memory

Adrift: The Fragile Sun

Rosalie Skinner

MuseItUp Publishing

www.museituppublishing.com

Foreword

The minstrel raises her head to watch a young man cross the crowded room. He offers her a mug of cider and a silver coin. With a smile she caresses the strings of her lute, releasing a ripple of notes.

As if by magic all eyes are drawn to where she hums a tune. The young man retakes his seat, and once sure of her audience’s rapt attention, the minstrel begins.

"In Orinth the invading army of Karador has been forced to capitulate. The Alliance leaders negotiate peace and discuss terms of trade and diplomacy.

"Meanwhile in the caves below the Allorn sanctuary, where the earth shuddered in response to the Deathbringer’s need, the hunt for Nasith and her companions continues.

Deep underground the ancient caves converge with the Aruven mines. Here the Vergöttern lord, Eluart, and Raul, the barbarian, continue their search. Each hour the chance of finding the trapped souls—alive—decreases.

Chapter One

The time has come to consider them lost. Flickering torchlight held darkness at bay but nothing could ward off Eluart’s growing despair. In the depths of the cave system the search for survivors continued.

Nasith is not dead. Raul’s positive words conflicted with the grief scored in his expression.

They have been trapped for six days. Eluart turned his head to avoid witnessing the barbarian’s anguish. Haunting echoes of Raul’s voice returned from the lightless chasm deep within the Aruven mines. Eluart ignored them. Three days digging through rubble and three days combing these tunnels we have not found any sign of Nasith or her companions. Even the empath has not been able to contact them.

Which does not mean Nasith is dead. Fifty people can’t disappear without leaving a trail. Even opening a portal should leave traces of magic energy.

These shafts are ancient. The rocks are unstable. The slightest earth tremor could cause… Eluart swallowed his words as a third figure emerged from the stygian gloom.

Beyond the flare of Raul’s torch, grotesque shadows danced along irregular tunnels and tumbled over stone formations. Covered in dust and shrouded by a cloud of fine dirt, a lone man climbed the steep slope as he returned from his search. He rested when he reached the level floor of the mineshaft.

Caleath, did you find anything? Eluart read fatigue in the other man’s every move. Dirt cracked where creases formed fissures and sweat created alluvial plains in the dust on his face. No expression or flicker of hope sculpted the landscaped visage.

Nothing. Caleath’s voice sounded brittle. While Eluart unfolded a worn map, Raul opened a flask and offered the newcomer a drink. Their grim companion took a quick mouthful as though glad to rinse grit from a parched palette.

Eluart smoothed the map over a boulder and examined the labyrinth of caverns. Caleath wiped a dusty sleeve across his brow and gulped another drink before he returned the flask to Raul. He smeared grubby fingers on his jerkin and traced a line across the edge of the parchment.

There is no access beyond here. He sighed when a trail of dust marred the scribed line depicting the layout of the mine. As though embarrassed by his lack of care, he again wiped his hands, disturbing a greater volume of fine powder. Here… Caleath’s nostrils flared and blue eyes reflected the cold gray of chipped stone, as if he despaired of keeping the map clear of dirt. He pointed with a chipped fingernail to describe the extent of his search. From here, all access is blocked.

Raul stepped forward. The torch flared and showered sparks over the map. Eluart felt the man’s energy pulse as hope surged.

Caleath shook his head before the barbarian could speak. No, Raul. There is no human, dead or alive, beyond the collapsed section.

Are you sure? How do you know?

Doubt forced the query. Eluart’s hope faded with every hour. A mistake could prove fatal. For six days and nights, while others dug frantically, Caleath headed the search for the missing Alliance troops. Fatigue might jeopardize his judgment and force Raul to question the man whom legend named Deathbringer. Doubt needled, despite the friendship and loyalty both men shared.

Lost in the labyrinth of mines, wounded soldiers formed a large proportion of Nasith’s company. Every extra moment they remained unaccounted for lessened their chance of survival. That knowledge weighed on those who searched, crushing tenuous hopes in the same manner the mountain bore down on the delicate web of mine shafts and tunnels. Among the rescuers, tempers flared and patience dissolved.

If they found a single member of the group, dead or alive, the discovery would bring a sense of relief and restore energy to the search.

Go and look for yourself then! Caleath’s voice cracked as he gestured toward the void beyond the light.

Let’s keep calm, shall we? Eluart folded the map. We have covered this section.

Raul lifted his torch and confronted Caleath. If you would use your magic, this grueling search would be unnecessary!

Fool. Caleath raked a hand through his hair as though unaware of the cloud of grit he created. Do you think I haven’t tried? His forefinger stabbed the barbarian’s chest, striking the bone pendant the native wore. "There isn’t anything left I can do to see Nasith safe, except search, like everyone else. I will only use sorcery when, and if, there is no alternative. Try and understand. I can do no more."

Search parties divided into small groups under the supervision of the empath and Council mages. Eluart joined men and women from each of the Alliance’s races while they searched. With the aid of sketched maps they covered every cleared tunnel and reported progress each hour.

Shall we continue, Raul, or do you want to join one of the Council mages with their search? Caleath’s voice hung in the dry air.

No. Raul’s shoulders slumped. By the One, if anyone is going to find our friends, you will.

Eluart breathed a sigh of relief. Anxiety drove both men as they pushed themselves beyond their limits. They needed rest, food, and fresh air. The strange atmosphere of the Aruven mines crushed human resolve into silt.

The empath’s references to Nasith’s last shared image confounded the searchers. No one found the landmarks her vision described. Nasith’s intended destination was an underground cavern, three levels down, lit by a single beam of light piercing a fissure almost an arrow’s flight deep. Where caves and mines merged, they hoped to find a gathering place for the Aruven miners, mentioned but not marked on the map. The refuge might provide a safe haven for the wounded. Despite the efforts of the sorcerers, neither footprint nor scuffmark revealed the passage of the lost companions.

You should take a few moments to rest, Cal. Eluart stretched and stood. Let the others take over…

Don’t start, my lord. Caleath spun, spreading dust through the air. The hair at the nape of Eluart’s neck lifted, acknowledging an unspoken threat. He cleared his throat before Caleath shook his head and grimaced. You know I cannot give up.

This isn’t your fault.

No? Caleath turned away as though pain tempered his denial. I heard you mention the rock fall. It is hard not to hear the accusations. I can’t argue with facts, Eluart. An earth tremor blocked access to Nasith. Whatever the justification, as a sorcerer I am responsible for the earth answering my cry for help.

No one blames you for your actions, Eluart said, recognizing the bitter taste of a lie. Rumor and innuendo placed the responsibility for collapsed shafts on Caleath’s shoulders. Convenience dictated those rumors omitted any mention of the situation leading to the incident and the Deathbringer’s involvement in bringing the recent war to an end. You did what was needed. Everyone who sheltered in this camp while the Cabal held thrall now draws breath because of your battle.

Let it drop, my lord. Caleath strode away from the halo of torchlight. I don’t care to dwell on the past. Perhaps when Nasith is returned in good health, we can have this conversation again.

Raul caught Eluart’s arm before he started after Caleath. You sound as though you have lost hope. Do you know something our friend doesn’t?

I am worried. Eluart confided in the barbarian. If we don’t find Nasith and the others, the guilt will drive Caleath insane.

Insane? No. Not him. Raul released Eluart’s arm. Insanity would prove a kindness. No, he lives with his guilt and we suffer his anguish.

I admire you, Raul. You have stayed with him through his darkest moments. Why do you endure his temper and disdain?

Because he will find Nasith and she owns my heart.

Does Caleath know how you feel? Eluart turned to face the barbarian, whose presence stirred the women of the camp.

Minstrels might reinvent the story around campfires through winter’s deepest night but Eluart remembered the truth. He recalled the relationship between Nasith, the Ferran Il’thane, their historian and archivist, and Caleath, Deathbringer, noted warrior and now renegade sorcerer. Truth and fiction intertwined to create a lovelorn romance set to entice coins from the meanest audience.

Eluart, who witnessed the disintegration of Nasith’s regard for Caleath, knew beyond doubt Raul’s declaration would cause the individuals involved more pain.

Caleath? What doesn’t he know? Raul glanced toward Caleath striding through the darkness. I am sure he is aware of my obsession with the Il’thane. I know how he feels, Eluart. Though he would not admit to such frailty, I know he cares about Nasith even now. I think he would not stand between Nasith and her happiness.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you if you find the bond between them stronger than you expect. Eluart curled the map in his hands. You would do well to look elsewhere...

I don’t need your advice, my lord. Thanks, all the same. I have seen the regard your people have for Caleath’s welfare.

Eluart laughed. The sound reverberated from the walls of the tunnel they navigated. Oh, Raul, it is your welfare I thought to protect. Don’t listen to me then, but do remember my warning.

Rest assured, I will.

The light splattered across the darkness as they rejoined Caleath. He stood motionless, peering into the immense space of an empty cavern. While Eluart unfolded the map and marked their progress, Caleath sniffed the air like a dog.

What do you make of this? Caleath asked after Raul stepped beside him and lifted the torch. Ahead the halo of light faded without touching another structure. Above their heads the void extended into emptiness. It is night now, isn’t it? I think this could be the gathering room.

The caress of a breeze brought goosebumps out on Eluart’s skin, and the map he straightened with care fluttered and fell limp.

Raul’s torch clattered to the floor, spilling light and sparks into the dirt.

Take care, Raul! Eluart looked around to see why the barbarian dropped the precious source of light. Spluttering in a cloud of dust the burning brand rolled to a halt.

Raul, the tall barbarian, and Caleath, the Deathbringer of legend, no longer stood in the diminished halo of light.

Raul! Caleath!

Eluart sent a silent shout to the empath, demanding her aid. He forgot to breathe until her reply roused him.

"They have disappeared." The empath’s telepathic message continued as Eluart dragged air into his lungs. He staggered, snatching the torch from stifling dust. Her words confirmed his fear. "I cannot reach them, wherever they are."

Eluart lifted the cresset and nurtured the flame to life. He wandered around the empty chamber in silence, finding no trace of his companions. No portal entrance, no hint of sorcery tainted the air. With a plea to the One, he marked the place on the map and waited for the choking sense of loss to pass.

* * * *

Caleath opened his eyes. Sparks erupted from his clothes when he moved in the light-deprived void. The scent of ozone filled his nostrils. A cold breeze lifted the hairs on his arm. Beneath his fingers, stone welcomed his touch. The heat of benign sorcery spread through his body, invigorating each cell. His continued access to sorcery came as a surprise. He tried to contact Tallowbrand, but the ghostly wizard did not reply. The sensation of soaking in a hot bath lulled him until he sought an explanation for his presence in the new locale.

What happened? Raul’s voice trembled. Caleath raised his eyes and watched the static discharges ignite with the light of startled sprites. He sighed when the barbarian scrambled to his feet.

Relax. He wondered if he could explain to the native of Ruak, how a transport beam worked. Energy flowed through him as the warmth of magic recharged his body. Caleath stretched. Trust me. You don’t want to know what happened. Accept that we have stepped through a portal and you have an idea of what befell us.

How do we return? Raul asked, running blind hands over the face of the rocks behind him, as though searching for a doorway.

Caleath closed his eyes. In truth, I don’t know.

How can you sit there? Shouldn’t we do something? Raul’s mellow voice cracked. Can you give us some light? At least let us see where we are? Is Nasith here?

Light? Caleath’s head rested against the rock wall and he glanced from one end of the cavern to the other. I suggest you wander toward the gloom on your right. I think you will find a source of illumination coming from over there.

Is a little mage-light too much to ask for? Raul snorted. All right for you, you see in the blistering dark. Not so good for Raul, left to stumble over rocks…

You might keep your voice down, my friend. We are not alone in these caves.

Daemon spawn! Raul dropped into a crouch and proceeded with caution. You could have said. He flattened his massive body against the wall before he approached an area of darkness stretched thin across a small opening.

Caleath spread his hands against the floor where he sat, concentrating on reaching the familiar energy resident in the structure of the rock. A sentient power answered his silent query.

"Welcome, Caleath D’Tiva, Deathbringer."

I recognize your essence. Caleath exhaled slowly enjoying a moment of relief. We remain on the same planet? Who controls the Stabilized Ion Trans-locator Unit?

"We cannot answer your questions."

What would you tell me? Caleath swallowed his apprehension.

Sorcery, even benign sorcery, is no longer welcome in this part of the world. Beware. Powerful forces manipulated your arrival. Trust no one.

Can you tell me if Nasith, if others from Allorn, have been brought here?

The disruption to nature increases. There is no dire sorcery, yet all is not right. We cannot realign the energy flow.

I feel nothing but warmth and comfort. I sense no disturbance.

"Find those you seek and leave before you are tempted to intervene. There are forces in conflict here, beyond our understanding or power to influence. We will protect you, while we can. You need strength to withstand the urge to correct things. You cannot afford to challenge those who rule here. Make no mistake, Deathbringer."

Is Nasith all right? Where is she? How will I find her? Caleath asked before the presence faded from his mind. Silence and cold stone offered no response. Dragons’ bane.

He dusted his clothes and scrambled to his feet. Raul had not returned from his exploration. Whoever organized their transportation would not approve of finding their cargo damaged on arrival. Delving into memory chips implanted before his exile more than a decade ago, he gathered information relating to the distinctive Stabilized Ion Trans-locator Unit’s aftereffects.

The ozone, accumulated static, and lethargy indicated the use of one particular device. The SITU420 remained the first choice in transporters until the exodus from ‘Old Earth’. Caleath chewed his bottom lip, considering the implications presented by the machine and the presence of creatures able to understand the controls. Tempered relief eased his troubled soul. His actions did not cause Nasith’s disappearance. He would find her and perhaps not need to bear the blame for her vanishing. He contemplated the presence of an alien species, other than himself. Who would frequent a planet he, as a surveyor, once listed as ‘of no further interest’? Questions ran through his mind. He wanted to know what interest they had in Nasith and Raul.

Rami’bat… Raul’s call shattered Caleath’s quiet reflections in a heartbeat. You should see this. Raul stood in the patch of faded light and peered into the gloom while his body remained within the faint glow of the opening.

A buzz of rhythmic chanting droned through the air. Scented wood-smoke, cloying incense, and the beat of drums rose like a wall as Caleath reached Raul’s side. Rose-hued light painted the entrance to the caves in a wash of warm celebrations. A bevy of gyrating nymphs, robed priests, and garland bearing maidens filled the grotto.

As far as I can make out from their speech, they gather here to welcome a stranger. Seems you are expected. These people celebrate your arrival.

Chapter Two

The muscles at the side of his mouth twitched, but Caleath smiled despite his apprehension. Raul’s dark eyes glinted in the dull red light as a group of excited men and women greeted him with deference and awe. Taller by a head than those around him, Raul glanced toward Caleath standing in the shadows.

I will watch your back, Rami’san, Caleath called when the chanting rose to a crescendo. Raul nodded, acknowledging Caleath’s support, before the mob ushered him toward the light.

Caleath edged along the cavern’s wall un-noticed by the crowd. He managed to blend with the dull gray stone and watched the barbarian accept his welcome with a charming smile.

Unable to understand more than a few words of the language used by the crowd, Caleath scanned the sea of faces for any sign of threat. To his amazement, everyone appeared intent on obtaining a good view of the stranger, as though Raul arrived a conquering hero.

Caleath leaned back into the cleft of a rock wall and tried to quell a growing knot of concern. The barbarian received the attention with humility as he maintained a proud and confident bearing. His mahogany skin glistened. Raven black hair enhanced Raul’s coal black eyes and crowned the rugged features of an enigmatic warrior. Raul always drew the gaze of women. They sighed when he passed and vied for his attention.

Now muscles rippled under Raul’s tattooed skin. Scars worn with pride marred a hairless torso. A white robed priest removed the barbarian’s dusty shirt and anointed his skin with scented oil. A raised weal outlined a new tattoo. The design of a rampant dragon contrasted in angry red against smooth skin. The latest token celebrated Raul’s recent time as a dragon rider. His search for Nasith necessitated his separation from the creature with which he bonded. Caleath knew the dragon’s absence created a well of emptiness within the man’s soul.

While the priest spoke, Raul appeared to listen. From where he stood, Caleath couldn’t hear a word of the conversation but from Raul’s confident expression, the priest made his meaning clear.

Considering his character and the manner with which he bore his past, Caleath thought the choice of Raul as hero well justified. After the tragic loss of his family, Raul left his homeland to follow the Deathbringer north. Despite the bonding and breaking of ties with the dragons, Raul managed to nurture humor despite heartbreak. He amassed courage the way others gained weight. Though he had reason to brood, his darkest moments would vanish with a smile. Where Caleath allowed anger to simmer and stress to dictate his mood, Raul’s eyes would flash and his jokes grew lewd. With his habitual grin the barbarian would grab his lute and beat anger into melody.

By whatever means these priests chose their heroes, Caleath admired their perception. Far better for them to enlist Raul to their cause than feel the need to seek aid from the Deathbringer. Without a diplomatic bone in his body or a fondness for crowds, or quests, Caleath left Raul to his new role and cast his gaze further afield.

Beyond the robed priests, musicians, and dancers, Caleath counted nearly forty less zealous onlookers. Dressed in homespun linen and durable rather than expensive tunics, they carried food toward a circle of stones surrounding the preparations for a large campfire.

These people chanted and sang while they worked, greeting each other with smiles and hugs. They rubbed noses and kissed cheeks. The overall feeling of good will concerned Caleath. He could see no reason for celebration.

He wanted to find Nasith and leave.

* * * *

As Caleath brushed dust from his hair and scratched dirt from a graze on his arm, a horn blew. The strident blast drowned the chanting and general noise. The throng grew quiet. When the head priest raised his hand and began to speak, the solemnity of his words impressed the crowd. Caleath cocked his head to listen. He recognized an occasional word, and the audience’s awe increased as the priest’s tone demanded attention.

Raul’s gaze searched the crowd. Caleath lifted a hand and nodded when the barbarian’s focus reached his niche. Lowering his shoulders and flicking hair out of his eyes, Raul turned to watch the ceremony taking place. A procession of men and women, priests and commoners filed forward to greet the stranger. While most kissed both of the man’s cheeks, several supplicants offered gifts. Two armbands, a twisted rope torque set with precious metals, and a jeweled bracelet looked out of place against Raul’s scarred flesh. Caleath grimaced. He glanced around to examine the crowd. Everyone, from half naked servants tending laden mules to the priests, wore one or more Aruven charms.

On closer examination, Caleath recognized the base metal in the artifacts. A shiver sent shards of ice through Caleath’s body. The memory of Aruven manacles and their insidious cruelty destroyed his moment of calm. Created to limit the power of sorcerers, these odious ornaments brought sweat to his brow. No wonder Tallowbrand didn’t answer his summons. The dead dread lord couldn’t pass through ore laden rock.

Balls of a hairy goat, he cursed under his breath. Without conscious thought, he rubbed at scars circling his wrists and tugged at the remains of a glove worn on one hand.

Are you ill then, stranger? A young man poked his head round the cleft rock. Why do you hide when you should rejoice?

You speak like a native of Allorn. Caleath replied without answering the question. What is your name? Can you speak the language of these people?

Who are you? The young man took a step back and glanced over his shoulder before taking a deep breath, as though reaching a decision. You don’t speak like anyone I know. So where do you come from?

Caleath bit down on impatience. My name is Caleath. He lifted the corners of his mouth in a smile. I am not from anywhere you would know, my friend.

"So why are you here with the Liberator? You with him or not?"

"The Liberator? You mean Raul? Yes, I am with him. Caleath resisted the urge to shake information from the stranger. Where is this place exactly?"

"You stand at the end of the Aruven world. This here, is where it all finishes. There is nothing past those rocks. Nothing. The prophecy foretold the Liberator would arrive here. And he did. Amazing, isn’t it?"

"Amazing? Yes." Amazing wasn’t Caleath’s first choice of word to describe their descent through the transporter but it fitted quite well. Who knew of his arrival?

Where you been that you haven’t heard?

With…ahh, Caleath swallowed a curse, the Liberator.

Right, well then you wouldn’t know, would you? It’s been all the talk for the last few days. His arrival. Once the woman came through…

Woman? Where? The youth’s information set Caleath’s blood pounding. Where is she? Is she well? What about the others…

They aren’t here. They arrived in the city of Ismailor. The youth kept glancing toward a tall woman monopolizing Raul’s attention. Don’t ask where that is. No one would tell me, even if I cared. You could try asking one of the Elite.

The Elite? Caleath repeated. What tongue do they speak?

"Aruven, of course. You touched or just simple?"

Tell you what…. What did you say your name was? Caleath tried to harness a winning smile.

I didn’t say. My name is Daryn.

How long have you been here?

I remember night and the beauty of moon and stars. When I sleep, I dream about the vast expanse of open sky and the yellow light of the sun. I miss the smell of wind when it blows in from the ocean. I don’t know how I came here or if I will ever see my home again.

You come from Allorn? We, the Liberator and I, traveled from there. Help me learn the Aruven language and I will do my best to get you home. Caleath wondered if he promised too much, too lightly.

Did I say I wanted to return to the Above? Daryn hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his leggings and leaned back with a relaxed shrug. I am doing all right for myself. I have all I could want for a little labor and loyalty.

Well, I am pleased for you, Daryn. Caleath sighed. There is nothing I can offer you in exchange for your help?

"I didn’t say I wouldn’t help you. The thought didn’t occur. As one scrapper to another, we should work together. Daryn smiled and nodded. You rush, hurry. You’ve spent too long Above, where dragons hunt."

Dragons hunt? Caleath’s brow furrowed. Not for a thousand years or more.

No, they are hunting now. Today dragons fly, but we are safe here. The Elite heard them beat their wings. Dark times come. The Liberator is here. We prepare for the Times of Trial.

The knot of apprehension growing in Caleath’s gut twisted into a ball of anxiety. Raul needed to take care. Daryn, help me.

How? Why are you covered in dust? From what do you hide?

Teach me Aruven words. Caleath fought the urge to command with benign sorcery and tried to lower his tone to a more acceptable plea. Then show me where I can bathe.

I thought you looked like a stone nymph. Did you roll in the mud?

As good as. Come, Daryn. Caleath draped an arm around the youth’s shoulders, leaving a smear of dust on the boy’s vest. What is the Aruven word for ‘friend’?

Once persuaded, Daryn seemed cheerful enough about sharing his vocabulary. Sentence structure and grammatical anomalies would come with familiarity and use. The youth chatted the whole time, giving Caleath more information on the people around them, Daryn’s status as his mistress’ favorite, and the hierarchy of the Elite. Before the end of the Liberator’s ceremonial greeting, Caleath understood many of the conversations going on around him.

He stored information on a microchip, a legacy of his alien origin. Masses of vital knowledge from his previous life as a planetary surveyor obsessed with virtual reality games remained accessible for his use. Several years ago, in an effort to prevent assassins tracking his movements he had removed his identity implant, which made access to the microchip harder to facilitate.

Caleath followed Daryn when the last of the crowd moved to offer Raul their friendship and gifts. Those already introduced to the Liberator milled around the fireplace, singing, dancing, and preparing a feast while they waited for the ceremony to finish. Few people took notice of Caleath’s presence, though the state of his appearance drew the occasional comment. Daryn rolled his eyes and explained, he’s from ‘Above’ over and again, leaving most people satisfied the stranger in their midst warranted no further interest.

For now, Caleath concentrated on the challenge of keeping his inner daemons chained. Any spare energy he owned, he spent on reinforcing barriers against the remnants of the Cabal, and keeping Wrath, the gladiator warrior sharing his soul, under control. Recent events needed to be relegated to memory. In a new environment, among strangers not familiar with the Deathbringer’s reputation, perhaps the Powers offered a chance to recover from the corrupting darkness.

While urging Daryn to find a place to bathe, if not a change of clothes, Caleath’s senses exploded.

In a heartbeat adrenaline surged.

The scent of death, a shrill wail of fury, and the icy caress of fetid breath hit him. The hammering of pressure building against his flesh brought him to a halt. He cried out, spinning to seek the source of impending threat. His hand dropped to grasp his sword but he no longer bore a weapon. Searching through the mines, he saw no need for extra weight and encumbrance. Now he missed the feel of steel in his hand. While the