The Rebel Returns

By Becca Lusher

The shadows are stirring, a tower will rise,
and thoughts of revenge are sweet.
It’s time to fear the darkness.

Nawaquí Caligo may have fallen, but his struggle goes on. Stranded on a remote world with only loyal Noctis for company, Caligo is changed but not defeated.
But the road ahead is long, full of shadows and loss and regret. Can he find a way to free himself from thoughts of blood and revenge, or is he doomed to repeat the mistakes of the past?

The darkness is coming and this rebel's fight is far from over yet.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Becca Lusher
• Release date: Jun 16, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310838682

Becca Lusher

Having an overactive imagination hasn’t always been a good thing: I spent much of my childhood scared of the dark and terrified by the stories my older sister told me (mostly to stop her being the only one afraid of the dark). These days I find it useful. I love stories, I love fantasy, I love things with wings, stars and the world around me, and I have great fun combining them all into my stories.Born in the UK, I live in the wild south-west where I run around with my dogs and get bossed about by cats, while taking photos of gorgeous landscapes, reading lots of books and climbing rocks.I’ve also been known to write stories.

Book preview

PART I

DARK DAYS

~ ~ ~

One

LIGHT RETURNED TO the world. Caligo lay on his back and stared at the sky, welcoming a sunrise for the first time in his existence. For once the night had been cold, the darkness empty and he’d found no comfort in the shadows. Now the sun crept over the horizon, bringing him warmth and a touch of healing.

All above him was blue, all beneath him was dust, and Caligo himself was broken.

He remembered the battle, the triumph, the power in his black wings and shadows as he brought dark death to his enemies. Then he fell and, in falling, he broke free from the world he had cared so much for. Now he lay in a barren land, far from anything he’d ever known. All night he’d lain in the dust, searching the darkness for life, for whispers, for anything. He’d heard nothing, except the pained wheezing of his shattered chest and the quiet whimpers of his companion.

The creature beside him stirred. Almost as long as Caligo was tall, the beast raised its heavy head. A narrow skull with heavy jaws and long jowls stared down at him. Dark eyes, tinged with red, blinked mournfully.

Caligo felt a twitch of life in his right arm. It was one of the few parts of his body that hadn’t been shattered by his fall. Flexing his fingers beneath the warm sunlight, he raised his hand and touched the monstrous hound on the chest.

Noctis, he croaked, not wanting to believe what his shadow senses were telling him, yet unable to deny it. His bold, brave, wild buzzard had lost his wings. When Caligo had disobeyed, when he’d fallen, he’d brought his truest friend down with him.

I’m sorry, the apology wheezed out on a whisper, more of a sigh than words.

But Noctis understood. The great hound exhaled deeply and laid his heavy head on Caligo’s chest. It hurt, but Caligo wouldn’t have moved him for the world. He would not repay such loyalty with cruelty, not now, not ever. Noctis had paid too high a price already.

THE QUIET MOMENT beneath the rising sun wasn’t to last, of course. Nothing good ever did; at least, not for Caligo. The shining sun that had brought warmth and healing with its first gentle touch soon turned into a burning threat. Noctis succumbed first, rolling away from his master to pant and drool, ribbons of saliva turning the pale dust a deep, dark red.

Caligo could only lie there, feeling helpless. The stiff cold of the night before might have melted away with the dawn, but he was still broken. He still ached. He still hurt. What he wouldn’t give for a land of perpetual shadow now, where he could lie for eternity without any risk of sun madness.

Despite the emptiness of the night before, Caligo knew he had healed – but only a little bit. His fall had caused too much damage to be mended in one night. Especially a night like that. He could still remember her voice, so dark, so cold. Once her slightest touch, her mere presence, had roused magic beneath his skin. Last night he’d felt nothing. She had given him nothing. He was nothing to her now.

She had been so angry. He’d been warned about that, but he hadn’t known, hadn’t cared. He’d been blinded by his quest for revenge. He’d been right too, in his way. Righteous even, seeking revenge for his people. Taking back what the Saxons had stolen.

Still, she’d told him not to do it that way, told him to step back. He couldn’t. It wasn’t in him to leave them, to not interfere. He’d been so blinded by his duty, his need, his quest that he hadn’t seen the punishment coming.

He could almost understand why she had done what she’d done to him, he could almost think he deserved it. But not Noctis. Never Noctis. She would pay for that. They all would.

If only he survived this burning sun.

He raised his good hand and flopped an arm across his face in a pathetic attempt to protect his eyes. Sweat covered his body, gathering in the hairs along his arm and rolling around his wrist to pool on his forehead and drip into his eyes. It stung but hurt less than the pitiless glare of the sun itself.

A shadow fell over him, followed by clouds of scorching, stinking breath. Hot saliva dripped onto his arm and forehead. Caligo raised his wrist enough to scowl. Noctis.

The huge dog snorted, nudging Caligo’s hand with a dry nose.

Yes, you are good, Caligo grumbled, patting the inquisitive muzzle. Though his voice still sounded raw, at least he could breathe properly now. He was still healing.

Noctis snuffled at his open palm, licking at the sweat, his broad tongue sweeping over Caligo’s arm and forehead. Caligo flinched away, but there was only so far he could go whilst lying prone on his back.

Noctis!

The dog kept licking and nudging at him until Caligo rolled away. He flopped onto his front, left arm useless beneath him, legs still nothing more than sacks of crushed meat. But his right arm was strong and his back had healed enough for movement. He had just enough strength to lift his neck and shoulders from the dust. Resting his weight on his right elbow, he glared at the monstrous hound now crouched before him, front end down, back end high, thin tail wagging.

This is not the time to play.

Noctis woofed, his bark deep and throaty, sending a waft of warm, stinking breath right into Caligo’s face.

He grimaced.

Noctis panted happily, sending out more stale breath, and nudged his master with his large, heavy head. With only his right arm to support his weight, the playful touch was enough to send Caligo crashing down again. He lay groaning for a long moment while Noctis stood over him, whimpering in apology.

It’s all right, he muttered. I’m well.

Noctis whined again, clearly disagreeing, and nuzzled his master back upright once more.

Good boy, Caligo praised, feeling breathless again. The fall hadn’t done his barely healed ribs any good, even so small as it had been. Propped back up on his elbow, Caligo hung his head and panted as sweat dripped from his nose and hair, splattering onto the thirsty dust below.

He had to move. Caligo had known that all day. However, now that he was in a position to attempt it, he found himself more exhausted than ever. The sun pressed down on his back like a burning hand, sucking away what little strength he had.

Noctis lay beside him, large and panting, pressing against Caligo’s shoulder and lending him strength. Caligo rested gratefully against the hound, wishing his legs would heal. They didn’t; they lay heavy and useless behind him. He would have to find some other way.

Sighing, Caligo raised his head and scanned the shimmering landscape through narrowed eyes. All was dust – pale yellow and washed-out brown. The horizon danced before him, shining like a distant lake.

Water, he whispered, feeling hope for the first time. There’s water out here.

Clenching his teeth, Caligo lay down, stretched out his right arm, gripped hold of the crumbling ground and dragged himself forward. It was difficult: his body was heavy, the ground was rough, it hurt and his fingers weren’t strong, yet he moved. He had moved. Not far, perhaps, but better than nothing.

Noctis stood over him, watching his pitiful progress with red eyes.

Water, Caligo said, panting as he dragging himself another arm’s-length forward.

The dog huffed.

Water, Caligo repeated, reaching out and hauling himself along. He did it again and again beneath Noctis’ dark stare, before collapsing mid-pull with a cry. He was less than two body-lengths from where he’d started and already his fingers were bleeding, his arm shaking from the exertion.

I need water! His desperation rang out over the empty dust and was swallowed by the burning shimmers, leaving him exhausted and empty.

Help me, he whispered, slumped facedown on the scorched ground, unable to even lift his head again.

Soft lips and strong teeth settled around his outstretched arm as Noctis gently lifted his wrist.

Caligo raised his chin, staring into small red eyes as the hound lowered onto his front once more, bunching up his back end to tug.

The jolt rippled down Caligo’s broken body, dragging out a pained grunt. Noctis tugged again. It hurt. Sweet shadows, it burned worse than the sun overhead, but he didn’t say stop. He didn’t scream, he didn’t cry, he simply rolled onto his back.

Noctis huffed, adjusted his weight and resettled his grip on Caligo’s sweating wrist. Then the faithful hound dragged his master over the burning dust.

IT SEEMED TO last forever as Caligo bumped, scraped and burned beneath the merciless sun. The world might have felt empty the night before but beneath the dust there were rocks – small, large, sharp and hard. There was also sand that crept into the crevices and folds of his body to rub against his sweat, scouring away what little skin he had left beneath his tattered clothes. Fresh scabs were removed, half-healed bruises darkened again and were joined by fresh ones. Blood dribbled out behind him.

Yet he didn’t stop, didn’t beg Noctis to stop. He couldn’t. There was no hope for him lying out beneath the burning sun. He had to move, and if this was the only way then it would have to be done.

Good boy, he whispered constantly, hiding his groans and gasps beneath a flowing river of praise.

Noctis wasn’t fooled, he whimpered and snarled as he dragged his master along. The dog could clearly smell the blood, taste it where it trickled into his mouth, but until Caligo told him to stop he would continue.

Good boy.

There was no knowing how long it took or how far they travelled beneath the empty sky. Caligo only knew that the sun was still burning when he finally tumbled into deep shadow.

He landed with a sharp, loud splash, his body sinking into cool, refreshing darkness. He was so heavy there was no hope of swimming, no hope of returning to the surface, no hope of breathing. There was only darkness.

Caligo sank into the beautiful cold and smiled.

Two

THIS TIME THE darkness healed him. This time his body obeyed the shadows that surrounded him and, though he hung in the black water for eons unnumbered, he was eventually able to swim to the surface once more.

It was dark, the dark of natural night. Caligo broke through the barrier between water and air and gasped deep, true breaths. His body felt renewed. He felt reborn. He wasn’t entirely healed yet, wasn’t quite strong, but he was getting there.

Swimming across the pool, he found himself beneath a steep overhang of rocks in a narrow break of the desert. Shaped like a crescent moon, the water hole was a mere thumbnail of darkness, hidden beneath dusty brown stone. From above it looked like nothing special, yet he now knew that it went much, much deeper, spreading out below the scorched surface like a secret world.

When he reached the edge, he searched for a place to pull himself out. The water beneath him was a sheer drop, without the tiniest foothold or shallow place to put his feet on. So he stretched his arms forward in search of purchase and finally hauled himself onto land like a wandering eel. Wriggling and flopping, he shifted away from the pool and lay prone on the large, flat rocks still warm from the heat of the day.

A crackle of crushed dust made him twitch and Caligo’s senses spread out. They found nothing to be alarmed about. Only Noctis creeping under the overhang on his belly, revealing just how low the cave was. The hound huffed a greeting, dropping something from his mouth and rolling it in Caligo’s direction with nudges of his nose.

The mangled snake was long and floppy. Caligo raised his head to avoid the ragged carcass as it slapped against his cheek. His stomach snarled. Noctis yipped in encouragement, wriggling back out the way he’d come. Leaving Caligo with the raw, dead snake and an appetite he didn’t want to think about.

Has it come to this? he whispered. All was dark around him, the night beyond was still. However, he could see just enough in the shadows to study the snake beneath his nose. As long as his forearm and as thick as two fingers. It wasn’t much, was probably almost all bone, but it was meat. It was food.

He was so hungry.

His stomach snarled again and Caligo lowered his head like the beast he’d become. He had no weapons, no dagger or knife, just ragged clothes, his freshly healed skin and sharp, strong teeth.

When Noctis returned with a second mauled snake, his master didn’t even hesitate. As long as Noctis kept them coming, Caligo kept eating. There wasn’t much meat on any of them, but between the bones and ragged skin there was enough to fill him up. To make him strong. To bring him back to himself.

I truly am Nawaquí now, he whispered to the deep darkness before the dawn, when he dragged himself out from his shallow cave and stood beneath the desert stars.

They blazed out here, brighter than he’d ever seen them before. Strange stars, new stars, full of light and hope and starsong. They stared down at him, distant and watchful. Caligo snarled wordlessly and returned to his cave, waiting for Noctis to return with another kill.

ANOTHER DAY CAME and went, while Caligo sat in his cave and brooded. Noctis joined him during the worst of the heat, the pair of them taking to the water to escape the scorching reach of the sun. The only direct light that Caligo saw was at dawn, when a lone spear of warmth poured gold over his face. Once that passed, the sun spent the rest of the day baking the rocks outside and above his cave, powerful but not quite strong enough to reach in and burn him.

His body felt like his own again, if a little frail. Caligo still found it miraculous. He’d been so broken after the fall, utterly shattered both inside and out. Yet here he sat, whole and healed. There was still some weakness in him, but when he thought about the desperate drag across the wasteland, Caligo knew he should be grateful for how far he’d come. Grateful for what his darkness had achieved. And he was. As long as he stayed out of the midday sun and didn’t plan on walking too far, he knew he’d be all right now. So he sat in the dark and waited.

The sky was still blue when Noctis wriggled out of the cave, having long ago left the water. Caligo watched him go, wondering what new places and things the hound had seen since their arrival in this barren place.

Not totally barren, he reminded himself – there was a plentiful supply of snakes. Noctis returned with yet another batch that night, and although Caligo was quick enough to eat them he began to wonder how they might taste cooked. He made no moves to build a fire, though. After the scorching heat of the day, the cool nights were too much of a relief to spoil with manmade heat. That was if he could even find any form of fuel beyond the cave. Or some means of lighting it.

Caligo didn’t look, he didn’t want to. Out there the stars were shining. He knew about stars; he didn’t trust them. They whispered and sang and told their stories to unfriendly ears.

He didn’t want Shaiel to know where he was. He didn’t like Shaiel, didn’t trust him.

And Caligo had let the Danes take him. He’d left Shaiel to their untender mercies. He’d let Geraint treat him as a spy.

I never liked him anyway, he muttered, shrugging off the wisps of guilt that clung to him. Shaiel was old, he was strong; he would have escaped. He would have broken free long before they hurt him.

Then why had she been so angry?

It was a whisper from the shadows, but Caligo shook his head and ignored it. He didn’t want to think of her. He didn’t want to remember. He didn’t even want to think her name.

She might hear. She might come. She might think he wanted to be forgiven.

He didn’t, he wouldn’t. He hadn’t done anything wrong.

They knew who I was. They knew what I wanted. They knew what I would do. It was as much their fault as mine. I didn’t do anything wrong. It was my revenge, my right. They stole it from me. They stole it. As they had stolen other things. Shaiel had stolen Caligo’s first revenge and his first love. He’d stolen her away before Caligo even had a chance. And she, she had stolen his wings, Noctis’ wings.

She made us fall. She broke us.

All because of Shaiel. All because of the stars. Caligo hated the stars. I will not walk beneath them, he snarled, and felt a stirring in the shadows.

Noctis emerged from the darkness with a strange, furless creature in his jaws. It was a little smaller than a hare and had broad, round ears and saggy pink skin. It tasted bitter and hard. Its bones were thicker than a snake’s and didn’t crack beneath his hands. Caligo tore into it with his teeth and drank the blood. Still warm.

Thank you, my friend, he murmured, holding out his dirty hands for the dog to lick clean. Noctis obliged with a snuffle and an affectionate nudge of his wet nose.

Then the hound returned to the desert night and Caligo resumed his dark thoughts. All around him the shadows stirred, but he didn’t reach for them. Not yet, not quite yet. He wasn’t ready yet. The others had stolen so much from him already and he wasn’t quite prepared enough to see what else he might have lost.

I’M TRUSTING YOU, Caligo grumbled the next afternoon, when the sun squatted low over the horizon. This had better be worth it.

The sand still burned beneath his feet, but Caligo was almost used to the heat now. His body felt stronger, his legs were his own once more. He could walk. He was walking, following Noctis across the parched, cracked ground, while dust danced and whirled around them. The wind had kicked up early that morning, invading the cave and making it unbearable. Caligo had lasted until after the killing heat of midday before finally accepting the need to leave. Now he was following Noctis shadow-knew-where in the hopes that they might find shelter before star shine.

The further they walked, however, the drier the world became, until there was barely even dust beneath his bare feet. Just earth, cracked and broken; like he had been. This was a strange land, a strange world, yet Caligo felt a kinship with it as if it was meant to be his. As if it was his home.

I belong here.

Noctis paused and glanced back over his shoulder, tongue lolling from the heat, though his feet seemed tireless.

We belong here, Caligo told him.

The dog huffed and walked on once more.

The sun was sinking rapidly now and Caligo began scanning the empty horizon for shelter. He didn’t want to be caught beneath the open sky. One never knew who was watching.

They won’t find me, he muttered, shading his eyes with his hand and squinting through the late-day haze. I won’t let them see.

It didn’t matter that she had brought him here, it didn’t matter that they knew exactly where he was, Caligo didn’t want them to know that he was healed. He didn’t want them to see how well he was doing. He didn’t need them. Didn’t want them. He was better off alone.

There. A lump in the flat ground. It didn’t look like much from where he was standing, just a break in the perfect line between colourless earth and the endless blue sky. Turning aside from Noctis’ steady path, Caligo staggered towards the bump. His feet scuffed the dirt, his toes catching on cracks, but he carried on. He was thirsty again, his body turning weak once more. His belly snarled, the strange creature of the night before a long distant memory. Caligo hoped Noctis would hunt again soon.

The bump became a point and the point began to rise. With every faltering step Caligo took, the lump grew larger. He was so focused on it that he barely registered Noctis’ deep barks, though they shook the ground beneath his feet. Nor did he notice the way the sky lifted away from the ground as something more than endless dust appeared on the horizon. It wasn’t until Caligo reached the spur of rock, jutting higher than several men combined, that he looked around.

His eyes widened, taking in the long shadows marking the end of the day, and looked down into the great rift that sheered away before him. It was as though a great pair of hands had torn the crust of the world apart, revealing the lush softness that lay below, like a perfect loaf of bread. The jagged rift spread and widened beneath Caligo’s feet and the whole of it was filled with bright, verdant green.

Sweet shadows, he whispered, falling to his knees in awe. Trees, there were trees here. Their high, fluffy tops stretched almost all the way up to where he was standing. They looked so close he felt like he could reach out and touch one, or jump from his spot and bounce easily across them to the other side