Comes the Crimson Mist: Clydian Chronicles, #2

By Marina Ermakova

Magic and machinations collide as four teenagers race to stop an otherworldly threat…

It was the city of Halfice that had led the attack on Saig's home of Running Water--so Halfice would be the target of Saig's infiltration mission. Struggling to stay ahead of the subterfuge pervading the city, she must come into her own to unravel the enemies' secrets. Meanwhile, Ande must manipulate the players into sabotaging themselves. Both of them are essential to the mission's success--if they can figure out how to work together.

Trei embarks on an espionage mission of his own, joining the mysterious and dangerous Magsak. He'll discover how they fit into the plots against Running Water…unless they shape him into a tool for their own use first.

Back home, Auris decides how to guide her city as the new headwoman. But Running Water's foes won't stay away just because one assault was repelled. Auris must safeguard her home until the others return with the knowledge they need to fight back.

All of them are running out of time, as their enemies' well-established plans move towards completion. They can't afford for a single one of them to fail. Because if they do…Running Water won't stand a chance.

Book Two in The Clydian Chronicles, starting with Chains Carried on Wings.

Start your journey into this young adult fantasy adventure today!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marina Ermakova
• Release date: Feb 21, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393496625

Marina Ermakova

Adventure fantasy writer Marina Ermakova has degrees in genetics and history, and the heart of a lifelong geek. She loves writing about outsiders, loners, and thinkers.  Her young adult epic fantasy novel Chains Carried on Wings is about finding acceptance for who you are instead of who you're supposed to be, and her urban fantasy/post-apocalyptic novel Terrestrial Magic is about applying logic towards understanding the fantastical. (And about an awkward woman on the asexuality spectrum who doesn't know how to deal with a burgeoning relationship—especially not while dodging assassination attempts.)

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While every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher assumes no responsibility for errors or omissions, or for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.

COMES THE CRIMSON MIST

First edition. February 21, 2021.

Copyright © 2021 Marina Ermakova.

Written by Marina Ermakova.

Book cover design by BRoseDesignz

www.brosedesignz-bookcovers.com

ONE

SAIG’S HEART RACED as she approached the gates to Halfice, a menacing quality to the tall, wooden structures. Or perhaps that was her imagination. Halfice was a city of foes, after all, given how their fighters had tried to conquer Saig’s own home of Running Water.

And now she was tasked with sneaking into this enemy stronghold. Because Prince Nait of Halfice had attacked her city on false charges, in a conspiracy far-reaching enough that they still didn’t know the extent of it. Her people would never be safe until Nait couldn’t use his own people’s ignorance against them. Not that his own people had reason for confidence in him anymore, not after he’d allied with goblins—creatures who used their otherworldly power to prey on humans—to further his ambitions. Not after those goblins had killed some of Halfice’s own. And that was exactly what Saig and her companions were counting on. That the prince’s time was past and that they could hasten his removal.

Up ahead, four guards checked a wagon while two others questioned its owners. Soon enough, Saig’s allies and their possessions would be the target of a similar inspection. And with every squeak of the wheels of their cart, every muted thud of their horses’ hooves, they drew closer to testing the strength of their cover story. Part of Saig couldn’t help but doubt that this would work. She was a daughter of Running Water and had never been anything else. How could she ever convince anyone to think of her as a Gerosian, from the kingdom’s central province?

Of course, even as she thought that, she knew exactly why their plan should succeed.

The Gerosian Kingdom was made up of four provinces, her home of Clydia—which housed both Running Water and Halfice—being the newest. Each of the provinces had once been distinguishable by the physical characteristics of their people, but a fair amount of intermixing had taken place since the Clydians migrated here. Those hailing from the central province of the Gerosian Kingdom, itself called Gerosa, tended towards darker skin tones while Clydians tended towards lighter skin tones—but dark-skinned Clydians and even light-skinned Gerosians existed. In contrast, the cultures remained more distinct, adhering to geographical boundaries.

And Saig traveled with five actual Gerosians. Ande, who’d been assigned an investigation into potential treason at a startlingly young age, a test of his readiness for adulthood. Along with the four older Gerosian warriors under his command. All of them had deep brown skin of various tones, thick hair they’d braided into Gerosian styles. Though they dressed in Clydian clothes, in woolen pants and cloaks—because coming directly from Running Water, they had nothing else—there was an awkwardness to how they wore these garments. They could never be mistaken for Clydians.

But the three women of their group were Clydians. Enge with her dark skin, born to Gerosian parents but raised in Running Water. Saig, whose light brown skin might even have her mistaken for a mixed-blooded Gerosian, though she wasn’t one—her skin tone came from her father, who’d hailed from the far southeast some thousand years ago. And Gwen, with the light skin of their Clydian ancestors, with her blond hair and green eyes. She’d never even left the environs of Running Water before this mission.

The three of them would need to work hard to maintain their guise as Gerosians—or none of them would survive the scrutiny they were about to receive.

The guards at the gate slowly came into focus as Saig’s party approached. The ones searching the wagon stepped back, waving at their fellows to signal all was well. Two of them even sat down by the edge of the gate and proceeded to play a dice game.

Which meant they felt comfortable, didn’t expect trouble. Good.

All six Halfician men stationed at the gate wore green and black, but a subtle difference in one’s attire caught Saig’s attention—the one standing closest to the travelers, the only one actually speaking to them. A pale-skinned man with auburn hair, his tunic extended a little lower than that of the other guardsmen. It also lacked the dirt and grime of the others, as if it were new. He was the only one of the six without a sword belted around his waist. Or seemingly any weapon at all, except for the kind of knife that everyone wore for practical purposes, warrior or no. Eyeing his stance, Saig judged she could send him sprawling with one good shove, while the man standing next to him might retain his balance.

He couldn’t have been a guard at all. So who was he? Most likely, he had been dressed in similar colors so that he couldn’t be picked out and targeted. So what sort of person was important enough to protect, but useful enough to risk?

Saig’s eyes slid to Enge, walking alongside her with one hand on the cart to guide herself forward, the other holding a walking stick—not that it stopped her from stumbling against the rough road now and again. There was a frustrated furrow to her brows, above her twitching eyes—a sign of her blindness. The walking stick was made to resemble the thin staffs used by the blind in Gerosa, of course, but Enge had long been out of practice with one. In Clydia, it was the community’s responsibility to serve as guides for the blind when so needed, as a repayment for bringing the favor of the gods. Enge had to follow the Gerosian custom while in sight of Halfice’s guards, but it still felt wrong to Saig that she was right there and not acting as Enge’s guide through the unfamiliar terrain.

Important enough to protect, but useful enough to risk. There was her answer, as to who the man that wasn’t a soldier must be, why he was asking the questions. He was a bard, like Enge.

Which only made Saig more nervous. Bards served as record keepers, repositories of information. All of which was stored in the secure space of their minds. If one was stationed at this gate, questioning travelers, then he was creating a register of everyone who entered the city inside of his memories.

That man is a bard, she warned the rest of her party. She caught Ande frowning from the corner of her eye and hoped that didn’t mean he expected trouble.

There wasn’t much more Saig could glean about the gate ahead at this distance...but she could try to sense the life force of the guards. Her bond with an uncanny animal allowed her to feel any life force that matched her own, that came from the same world as hers did, now that her father had finally taught her how. She didn’t truly expect the first Halficians she came across to harbor any otherworlders among them, but if these new senses were available to her...shouldn’t she use them?

Taking a steadying breath, Saig extended her awareness outward in an expanding ring. She began to sense each blade of grass, each bug above or below the ground—tiny flickers of energy that felt instinctively familiar to her. The essences of the horses felt large and warm beside her. She found she could locate her companions without even turning around. As her perception began to reach the people at the gate, expanding more slowly now, the bard and the travelers glowed with a soft warmth. Saig sensed the first guard’s hand as it entered the field, then his shoulder and torso—as if she held a lantern and the light illuminated parts of him that had been in the dark.

A flash of fatigue suddenly swept over her, those senses pulling back in towards her own body like a fire going out. The exhaustion drained away from her as swiftly as it’d come, but Saig found she couldn’t call up those senses again. Not yet. Not even by the time she came to a halt behind the other group of travelers.

She’d found the limits of her new ability, it seemed. Her range had stopped short of four of the guards at the gate, whose life forces she hadn’t been able to check. She didn’t expect that would matter—what were the chances that this small group of guards harbored an otherworldly predator among them? But if she kept using this new power, if she kept vigilant, if she was lucky...

Then sooner or later, she might find the goblins who’d marched on her city and hunted down her people.

EYEING THE HALFICIAN guards at the city’s gate, a determination sparked inside Ande. The more he learned of this conspiracy that continued to spread through the Gerosian Kingdom, endangering Ande’s family and his people, the more he craved the chance to challenge it. The rumors of the king’s death already weighed heavily on his mind. Whatever these conspirators had planned next, dealing with them sooner rather than later would mean fewer innocents would get hurt.

The Halfician bard before them presented the first hurdle in Ande’s path...or he would, once he finished with the travelers ahead of them and turned his attention to Ande’s group. Why was it taking so long, anyway? Ande found himself listening in, interested in the line of questioning he should expect.

...part of the city will you be staying in? the bard was asking the group ahead of them. Surely your sister could not house all of you in one of the houses by the docks—they’re practically hovels.

Her neighbors have offered to help, one of the travelers responded.

The bard raised a dubious eyebrow and Ande couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment. What did those neighbors have to gain from such generosity?

She’s one of those trained by the lady, great bard. Treats lesser illnesses and injury for cheap.

Ah. The bard’s eyes filled with understanding. Good, then. We will check in on you to make sure you have settled in, and that the baby remains in good health.

The other group of travelers exchanged a series of startled looks. You needn’t trouble yourself, one of them said.

Now, now, the bard responded, and there was a hidden edge to his voice. We wouldn’t wish to be remiss in our hospitality. As I said, we will check in on you.

Well, that was as transparent as they could be with their intentions. The Halfician guards were watching strangers. Ande would need to ensure their attention stayed on himself and his men—the true Gerosians of their company—instead of straying towards their Clydian allies. Not that hiding Enge in particular would be possible.

Truly, it would have been simpler for Ande’s men to infiltrate Halfice on their own. But Saig was the only one of them with any protection from otherworldly magic, not that Ande understood how any of this uncanny business worked. And a lone Gerosian woman would never travel with five men—in Gerosa, men must be served by men, while women must be served by women. Only Gerosians outside of those gender categories could serve or be served by anyone.

The bard waved the travelers in, before finally turning an assessing gaze on Ande’s group. And you, he asked them. What business have you in the city?

Ande stepped forward, content to make himself the first target for scrutiny. I am Ande Na Lin of Seaway, he began. My father is looking to expand our trade routes to Halfice, and has sent me to assess the market. This is the bard I have hired for the venture.

He nodded at Enge.

Saig and Keo moved aside, giving the Halfician an unobstructed view of their own bard. Enge lifted her gaze, almost managing to turn her face towards the other bard, but not quite. The Halfician assessed her walking stick, the constant twitching of her eyes, the way she didn’t quite look at him.

Great bard, he said, a sudden reverence in his voice, touching a hand to his shoulder in respect. Most of the guards hadn’t paid them much mind until then, but that changed abruptly as they scrambled to attention, making their own polite gestures. They didn’t dare glance at Enge for longer than a second at a time. They even seemed to refrain from watching the rest of her companions too openly for good measure. But their attention was caught nonetheless.

Under normal circumstances, Ande would try to avoid appearing so...notable. But the Clydians insisted Enge’s presence would gain them the right kind of access, without drawing suspicion.

Ande supposed he would never understand the connection these Clydians saw between bards and blindness. To them, writing was complete anathema. It was a perversion of communication, a way to kill the spirit of the spoken word. When it had been introduced to the Gerosian Kingdom, and partially adopted by the other provinces, Clydia held fast against it. But while the oral tradition remained strong in Gerosa—how could it ever be otherwise, when so much of society’s corpus need to evolve alongside the language and culture of the times?—writing became an acceptable supplement to memory.

Bards retained a high status in any Gerosian province, but the Clydians revered them most highly of all. And for whatever reason, they saw blind bards as a sign of divine favor. A blind child would be given an apprenticeship immediately, with no other future provided as an option at all. It was destiny, the Clydians would say. Their gods willed it.

Gerosa disagreed. The blind could become bards if they wished, or anything else if they didn’t. But they were not regarded with more esteem than any other bard.

Ande wasn’t expected to share the Clydians’ beliefs. But by hiring a blind bard to negotiate on his behalf with a Clydian populace, he gave himself the appearance of a canny Gerosian trader. One all too likely to discover the pitfalls of attempting to use the Clydians’ own culture against them.

He adopted an appropriately smug demeanor at the guards’ reactions, which they couldn’t fail to notice. Predictably, the looks tossed in his direction grew more disdainful. They believed they had his measure, just as he’d wanted them to...but a small part of him couldn’t help regretting that his first interaction in Halfice had to be so negative.

We welcome your business, of course, the Halfician bard said, turning back to Ande with an expression that gave away nothing. Please declare the identity of your people and their purpose. Though of course, we have no intention of questioning the esteemed bard.

Ande introduced his men and the positions they supposedly held, some of them even real—why pretend Feln was anything but the captain of his guard? When he’d finished and the bard cast an expectant gaze towards Saig and Gwen, Enge intervened.

As you are no doubt aware of our Gerosian customs, she informed the bard, the female guards are mine.

The moment Enge began speaking, the Halfician bard’s attention swung to her, excluding Ande as if he’d been waiting for an excuse. Please forgive my slowness. We do see a number of Gerosian traders here, and we do see the women accompanied by female guards. But I confess we’ve taken little interest in the particulars of who is directly under whose authority. Of course, we have no need to question your household.

It is quite alright, Enge responded. I hope we will all continue to work through our little misunderstandings with consideration for each other.

You are generous to us, great bard. I will trouble you as little as I can, but I have to ask where you intend to stay?

In fact, Ande cut in, even managing to catch a flicker of annoyance in the bard’s eyes as he did so, we were given some recommendations, but not by Halficians. What luck, to speak to a bard. Where would you suggest? We don’t wish to be presumptuous, but are open to opportunity.

The bard glanced at Enge, hesitating for a moment. In such respectable company, it would only be appropriate if you were proper household guests, instead of staying at an inn by the docks. Let me...

And he turned to two of the guards, taking them aside for a moment. One man nodded and took off through the gate, entering Halfice. The other joined the bard in approaching Ande’s group once more.

Great bard, the Halfician bard began. Please accept the hospitality of my lady Ruln, Prince Nait’s own sister.

Ande felt his eyebrows raising before he could stop himself. Even he could tell it was irregular for the bard to extend an invitation to someone else’s household—which meant he wanted them settled in this lady’s home before it could be undone. Ande had never heard of a lady Ruln, though that wasn’t necessarily surprising. By the Clydian custom, Nait would have married into the head family and left his own. As such, his sister wouldn’t be among the ruling faction of the town.

Still, she should have some deference due to her family connection. That this bard worried she wouldn’t be able to secure Enge’s stay with her unless he intervened quickly...well, that spoke of an interesting political dynamic.

We would be pleased to, Enge said, ending any potential debate over the matter. Ande could only defer to her greater knowledge of Halfice and wait for a chance to ask her what she knew of this lady Ruln.

The bard waved a hand at the guard beside him, a lithe young man with brown skin and long eyelashes. Helvis will escort you and make arrangements for your horses.

And with that, their infiltration of Halfice officially began.

TWO

UNEASE SETTLED UNDER Ande’s skin as he followed Helvis down the crowded streets of Halfice, strangers brushing against him as they passed. He’d forgotten the intrusive nature of these Clydian towns—which the Clydians called cities, he needed to remember that—during the journey here from Running Water. And now he was back in another city just like it, one that looked and felt just as stifling and lackluster.

Ah, but he missed his home. He longed for the polite distance everyone knew to afford each other, the intricate metalwork that made each building pleasing to the eye. 

The only variation in Halfice’s longhouses that he could see was their sizes. Little wooden rectangles and big wooden rectangles—that was the breadth of Clydian architecture. The one structure they passed that deviated from this norm was a risen platform with a ladder leading up to it, logs piled on top of it—some kind of rudimentary alarm, meant to be seen from a distance?

Helvis directed them to a house much like every other one surrounding it...which was strange. Shouldn’t the sister of the Prince have the most impressive home in her neighborhood? Or at the very least, the largest?

Ande followed their guide inside, picking up on a light herbal scent that permeated the space. One difference between this home and that of Running Water’s head family was the wooden partitions that almost gave this longhouse the semblance of rooms. Wool-covered benches wound around the perimeter of the large room they’d stepped inside of. A glimpse into the next one revealed a hearth and a table laden with vegetables.

A large, handsome woman with light brown skin moved to greet them.

Great bard, may I present the lady Ruln? Helvis said. Bemused, Ande wondered if he should get used to being ignored.

The lady Ruln turned out to be older than expected, maybe a decade or two more so than Ande’s memory of her brother—and though Nait may have been young for a prince, he was a mature man, in the prime of his adulthood. It also surprised Ande that she looked as if she had Gerosian ancestry, for Nait of Halfice himself always struck him as a veritable replica of the old Clydians, with his light skin and golden-red hair. Perhaps that was simply how it turned out. Or perhaps, the siblings had different fathers. He’d been told that was common enough in Clydia, where marriage was rare and uncles raised nieces and nephews more often than fathers raised their children.

Ruln greeted Enge in a throaty tone of voice, before assigning them places on the benches that lined her home. Some dozen onlookers watched their arrival with curiosity, a number of them taking small glimpses while continuing to work even as others stared openly. Two children peeked out from behind a woman’s skirt as she crushed herbs at the table.

The lady Ruln ignored them all. Ande could not gain a sense of Enge’s import to her from her demeanor, though there must have been some calculation happening. Why else would the bard have been so eager to install them here?

Well, there would be time enough to figure out the lady’s particular situation and how it might affect them. For now, they needed to gather enough information to formulate a plan.

Enge exchanged pleasantries, Ande asked for directions to conduct his business, and Ruln insisted dinner and good company would await them on their return. Then they bid the lady goodbye so they might begin Ande’s nonexistent errands. As they stepped outside, Enge reached out a hand, even as she still held the walking stick in her other arm.

Ande, if you please? she said.

Somewhat unsure of himself, Ande attempted to place her hand on his elbow as he’d seen the Clydians do in the past. He then angled them towards where Helvis had told them the market would be. At the sight of Enge, the crowds parted before them, leaving a small bubble of space around the bard and Ande. Something in him finally relaxed. 

With Enge close by, where he could hear her without her voice carrying, she told him, "Well, this is a spectacular turn of events. The lady Ruln is an influential member of Halfice in her own right, a renowned and popular healer trained at the women’s school in Wildflair. Yet she is not in favor with her brother and the rest of the head family."

I smelled lennit inside, came Saig’s voice from his other side. It’s used to treat fever. The lady and her family all had well-worn clothing, but with some tasteful embroidery and expensive dyes—even some blue, did you see? But the rest of those inside wore brown and green and black, paired with poorly-constructed shoes. The mud stains towards the bottom of their trousers and skirts must mean they spend time in lower-lying land, probably near the river or docks. Certainly somewhere the lady and her people don’t venture.

Ande hadn’t noticed any of that. The plainness of everyone’s clothing simply felt...Clydian, to him.

Yes, she’s known for opening up her home to patients for several hours a day, Enge concurred. As you can imagine, this rather large amount of work earns her quite a bit of goodwill, though not among those with regular access to their own doctors. I imagine this was the only way she could stay relevant against her brother’s wishes. The higher classes no doubt resent her for bypassing their influence to do so.

Which made her both important and an outcast at the same time. Ande almost felt a swell of sympathy of her situation, but he pushed it away—he couldn’t afford such distractions, not when the conspiracy remained at large.

How does being in her household help us? he asked, dubious that it could. If her connections to her brother had