Titan's Garden: Crimson Wolf

By Trevor Anthony

Omari didn't start this war. King Paxis did, by unleashing chemical weapons on his citizens. Now Omari's body courses with magic gifted by his greatest tragedy. The kingdom of Calmeria is pursuing him. Omari searches for the resistance, but as far as he knows, they no longer exist. He must do th

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trevor Dykes
• Release date: Jan 16, 2022
• ISBN: 9781088077351

Book preview

Acknowledgements

First thing, I need to give glory to God who has saved me. I don’t understand why He did. I never deserved it. Hopefully, I’ll get to ask Him one day. My only hope is that I can use these talents to reach another, to teach another, and to inspire another.

To all of you who have helped me professionally, from my editors to my beta-readers, and my critique partners. Thank you for your support. Thank you for reading this book while in its infancy and helping me to flush out everything within this story. Thank you for helping it reach its full potential.

I need to thank two people, for, without them, this book and the others to follow do not exist. To you, the person who reads one hundred fourteen books a year. Thank you for making this book number one hundred fifteen. Thank you for taking the time to embark on this journey with one of your best friends. Thank you for being a great support system for my wife and godmother to my son. Let’s keep reading together. #librarygoals.

To you, who I was raised with. You started me off on this journey. You didn’t know writing had become my outlet when you suggested we team up together on a book. Time and life stopped that process, but hopefully, one day we can resume it. The world is not ready for what magic we could produce together. Thank you for raising my beautiful niece and her sisters. I cannot wait to see what wonderful things they accomplish. Thank you for always being a support and a venting partner. Let’s keep raising cousins together. #parentgoals

To you, both of you who raised me. You, the two of you. The ones who taught me what I needed to navigate this world and every obstacle I have faced. Your advice is intertwined in these pages, in these characters, in their lives, and their actions. Your love has taught me how to become the man that I am today and the parent that I am becoming. Your support when I have failed is why I continue to move forward. Let’s keep loving each other. #familygoals

And finally, to you. To you, who has loved me despite my faults. To you, who has built a home and a life with me. To you, my forever wedding date, my valentine, my brunch date, my wife. To you, who has brought life into this world and made me a parent. Thank you for giving me space to write and understanding that I need it like I need air. Thank you for more things than I have space for in this book. I could write an entire novel on how amazing you are, or I can continue to show you every day. Let’s keep raising Carter together. #relationshipgoals

And lastly, to you. By the time you can read this, you’ll understand how much I love you. How much you’ve changed me. How much holding you in my arms for the first time. You showed me what it means for a man to cry. You are wonderful, in every sense of the word. Watching you pick up a toy and smile, hearing you laugh, and playing with you are the moments I live for. I cannot wait to see the great things you will do in the future. Always remember two things, I love you, and you can accomplish anything you desire in this life. Let’s keep growing together. #fathersongoals

Dedication

In Memory of

Roscoe Pryor and Lisa Dykes

I hope you enjoy this book in Heaven

Prologue

A BLACK BIRD SOARED across the midnight sky flapping its wings frantically. The creature was in pursuit of a distant destination, unbeknownst to itself, but fled with fright in his beady eyes. Judging and watching as it soared through rain-laden clouds, it took in its surroundings in their final moments in such pristine condition. The bird traveled with its flock, leading them far to the mountains east, a warning that would arrive far too late. The humans were unable to escape.

Distantly below the raptor, animals in search of refuge galloped towards the skyscraping towers of the forest bearing leaves of emerald. They  could sense the impending doom as easily as a coming storm and were escaping the echoes of death and pain rumbling through the Valley of Marindale, about to earn a new and grimmer name: the Valley of Death. High above the falcon an enormous, winged ship floated eerily through the sky, piercing the puffy and soaked clouds. Propelled by the finest of mechanical engines, it cruised, bearing closer and closer. It sank lower to the surface every second, steered by soldiers whose resolve shook like the rumbles of death whispering below. The metal bay doors on the underside of the steel machine swung open and its payload dropped, a ball of charcoal and steel sailing to the ground at the speed of gravity. Screams echoed as terrified people scurried from the buildings of stone, steel, brick, and mortar.

A waste. The ball sank lower and crept towards the frightened city nestled inside the deepest part of the valley. No asylum could be found. The beasts of Earth sprinted away with fear in their breaths, while the bomb collided with the soil. Loud explosions reverberated across the landscape as a purple and black blaze jumped free of the crash, igniting everything within miles.

In less than a minute, the whole of the valley was consumed by a black inferno that hungered unnaturally. Everything burned; no amount of wind or rainwater could quell its fury. The fire devoured all within its grasp: buildings, trees, horses, pets, and human bodies scorched in its wake, smoldering in place. Screams of pain pierced the silence of the night as a grey cloud of smoke and ash in the shape of a mushroom flustered to the sky. Within moments, the land fell silent once more.

Every human within hundreds of miles could see the towering cloud protruding from the depths of the ravine like smoke lingers from the edge of a cigarette. His message was seen all over the nation, especially in the mountains which faced the destruction. Waves of fallout spread that would forever alter the course of history.

Quiet hung in the valley. Omari Castle witnessed it and the sight broke him. His moans of despair resounded over the landscape. His pain was so deep it made him physically ill, trembling with a combination of fury and sadness. Omari collapsed to his knees, the color of sandalwood; the crisp, dry air blowing through his coarse and curly hair. Tears welled at the edges of his youthful, deep brown eyes. Beside him, two more echoes of anguish from others who’d lost everything he’d lost in that instant. Their homes, their families, their memories eviscerated in the blink of an eye——they were powerless to prevent the destruction before it struck. The king kept good on his promise. King Paxis had sworn those rebels who fought against his monarchy would pay the ultimate price for their betrayal.

In that unrelenting agony, Omari, who’d only seen ten high moons, made a promise to himself. He swore vengeance. On that day, a day that would exist forever in infamy, two other bombs were dropped on the King’s own people. That raging inferno of Shadow-Fire wiped out one third of the population of Calmeria, bringing the once thriving nation to its knees.

1

OMARI

OMARI AWOKE IN A STARTLED bit of sweat, his hands bound together with rope and hidden under the comforter of his bed. His hands faced inwardly, towards each other and his fingers interlocked. He glanced down and saw his fingertips were glowing crimson and pulsing. The world spun back into view, the oak walls of the home surrounded him and a dirty rug sat on the floor beneath his feet. The screams from his dream disappeared slowly, but still echoed in his mind. He saw the light around his childhood home fade into nothingness.

Are you alright Omari? a feminine voice called out to him. That’s the third time this week.

Valeria stepped through the doorway of his bedroom. She wore a bath towel around her chest and her hair was tied in a headwrap of triangular patterns with orange, green, blue, and white. Her locs were tied up and drooped over the headwrap with hair covering her left eye. Omari shuffled, making sure she couldn’t see the rope that bound him.

Yeah, I’m fine V, Omari replied. He smiled when he looked at her; she was breathtaking.

Valeria Crawford was immaculate, her body resembling one carved out of stone by the world’s greatest craftsman. She had a heartbreaking combination of glowing chestnut skin and blue-hazel eyes. Slender muscles covered every inch of her frame, except for her curvy hips.

Well then, get your ass up. It’s time to go, she teased, twirling her hair with a finger.

She’s right, we’re running late, another voice called from the end of the hallway. Kendrich approached them, sliding his black, hooded sweatshirt over his head and ripping a chunk out of an apple with his teeth. He took another loud and crunchy bite.

Kendrich was the oldest, his stature a muscular, physically commanding six foot four. Kendrich observed the apple’s core then tossed it violently at the snoring hunk of meat in the bed across from Omari. The mass woke up instantly as the apple core collided with his right eye, jarring him from what seemed like an enjoyable dream.

Aw! You bastard, a simple tap would have worked, the man stretched and yawned loudly as he struggled to wake up.

Did we interrupt another fantasy, Julian? Kendrich called out mockingly.

I had two women this time, they were all over me, man. I kept saying no, I gotta go. But they wouldn’t take that for an answer. Julian chuckled, then reached over and grabbed a glass of last night’s water, downing it in one gulp.

Two women? That’s a fantasy alright, Omari joked.

That’s two more than you have, Omari, he shot back. Julian was much thinner than Omari and he had olive skin that contrasted with his silver eyes, a distinct feature of his origin. His hair was matted in a short, unpicked afro.

Twelve minutes to get ready, Kendrich said. Montgomery is expecting us at ten. If we’re late he’ll give this assignment to someone else. He strode off down the hall, his feet clicking on the stairs.

Valeria left the room to get dressed; her room was at the far end of the hall. As the only woman in their group, she had her own space in the small two-story house. Omari gazed down at his bound hands and sighed.

Julian? A little help please, Omari said.

Julian hopped off the bed and jumped to the hallway. He peered out and checked both ways, then stepped inside their room and pulled the cover away from Omari. He started unfurling the knot of his own design.

How long are you going to keep this up? Julian asked. I mean, Valeria and Kendrich have a right to know.

Not yet; eventually I won’t have to do this. Omari rotated his wrists, shaking them in freedom.

Alright whatever you say, it’s your secret to keep. Julian walked away from Omari’s bed and headed into the communal bathroom across from their room.

Omari gazed out the window and then glanced down at his hands. His fingertips were no longer pulsing with red light. He sighed and tucked the rope under his pillow. He patted the pillow, dreaming of a day when he would no longer need the rope.

THE CITY OF BRUNSWICK was a shell of its former glory. In its heyday, Brunswick was known as the hunting capital of Calmeria, perfectly positioned on the border of two bountiful forests. World-class chefs and hunters flooded the region with delicacies. The restaurant industry boomed and launched an economy that exploded with potential. As a child, Omari would visit with his parents and the aroma of seared venison beckoned them, wafting in the wind. Every year food festivals would swarm the city, where people could taste exotic meals from all over the country and from neighboring nations. Now, the population had crumbled to the low ten thousands and those famous chefs with all their pomp and circumstance relocated to the capital, feeding the king and his nobles.

Omari, Kendrich, Valeria, and Julian reached the edge of the city after a stroll and gazed at the once-great city standing in its decrepit state. A city built close to the surrounding forests, designed by a stream of architects who wanted to top their predecessors and yet match the natural surroundings. The brick-and-mortar buildings downtown collected like a child’s play set, each taller than the next, thick and sturdy, built of multicolored brick. Through the pane glass windows, Omari could see the emptiness inside each one.

In a restaurant to his right, where it had once been impossible to get a reservation, only two customers dined. Omari’s mind wandered back to the last meal he’d eaten there. Over a decade ago, his father booked him a surprise for his ninth birthday hiring a top chef to host his party. Before the war broke, everything was different.

Come. His daydream was shattered as Kendrich grabbed his shoulder.

He scratched his rough beard, shy of grey but well past its original black like the braids on his head. A man in his late thirties and he looked every bit of it, possibly older as stress wrinkles decorated his face. Taking on a crew of children all those years ago had taken a toll on Kendrich’s appearance.

The group walked farther through the city; there was an eeriness and anxiety hanging in the air as visible as fog. Wind whistled through the alleyways of the city carrying a warning to Omari’s ear on this bright morning.

He’s coming.

Something isn’t right here; there’s too many people out, Valeria noted as she watched the police begin flooding the streets.

Police in the nation of Calmeria wore dark green, freshly ironed uniforms, with a massive P emblazoned on their helmets. The individual police force had been absorbed by the Calmerian military at the onset of the war. The few who’d been disloyal were removed from power and stripped of their police duty, or worse. The result was a group of soldiers swarming the city streets without a duty to protect the civilians, instead only an obligation to the king. Omari spat in disgust.

We’re here. Kendrich pushed open two wooden double doors.

A flimsy sign above him read, ‘Montgomery Services.’ As they stepped in, the air was flooded with the scent of fresh paint and lumber. Tools were strewn everywhere; Omari stepped over a hammer with surprise. Montgomery was never this disorganized or chaotic; his tool bags were tossed near the receptionist desk and Allison wasn’t there to give the assignment. Independent contracting was often good work and kept them fed, but something was wrong.

Montgomery came bursting through the foyer, carrying small orange cones used as protective barriers to cordon off the streets. In his haste to exit the building he ran straight into Kendrich, dropping the cones to the tile floor.

Watch out you ass—Oh, Kendrich, it’s you guys. What are you doing here?

You had a job for us, told us be here at ten.

Did you hit your head or something; no time for that today. Now move, please I need to get these barriers to the main road before they arrive.

He was exceedingly frantic. Living in a home built on the edge of the city had its advantages, but today it was a clear disadvantage. News had hit this city but escaped their group.

Who’s coming?

What are you talking about? The king will be here soon.

A blink of excitement erupted in Omari’s heart. 

His feet pounded against the concrete. Before anyone could whisper a word of calm or grab him, Omari burst through the front door of the agency, his knife slamming against his right thigh in anxious anticipation. The pistol tucked under his black sweater banged against him as he sprinted. This was it: Omari’s first opportunity to come within spitting distance of the king. The man who destroyed his entire life, who’d changed everything and drove Calmeria to the edge of destruction. He pictured his parents’ faces, their smiles, and heard their last words echoing on the walls of his mind. We’ll be with you soon!

He fought back tears, knowing his actions were contrary to the advice they’d give. Then again, his parents would never be able to give him advice again. Paxis had made sure of that and Omari would ensure he would never destroy another family, another city, another soul. His feet pounded on the concrete streets of Brunswick, ignoring the odd stares of bystanders and the calls from his friends as they pursued him. He saw it: perfection. An abandoned warehouse nearly seventy feet tall with a concave roof where he could blend in, a vantage point. He wasn’t a great shot, but it could work.

Omari turned left and proceeded through the alley. He gripped the iron gate surrounding the building complex and pulled himself up. Omari jumped from the top of the gate and looked around. The parking lot was completely deserted. His mind was singularly focused, utterly unaware of his surroundings except for his target, a path to the roof. It appeared in the form of an iron ladder positioned against the façade of the building. He placed his hands against the metal form inhaling deeply, his chance for vengeance only moments away.

Boom!

He fell against the asphalt hard, strong hands locking him in place.

Let me go! He tried to pry Kendrich’s hands from his shoulders, but the larger man was much stronger. Unnaturally strong.

No! Valeria’s hand slapped him, leaving a red mark on his cheek that was sore to the touch.

I need this! Omari shouted.

You’re not getting it! Omari, we’re not going to let you die. Kendrich pressed harder. His grip was so tight Omari couldn’t even struggle against it.

I don’t care. I need to kill him, he ruined everything!

Your parents would not want you to throw away your life like this, Julian chimed in quietly and calmly.

They can’t want anything ever again. He made sure of that.

Omari didn’t care for their cowardly words of pacifism. Pulling the trigger might have meant dying, but it also meant avenging his parents’ death. It meant avenging everyone who suffered from Paxis’s war and his cruelty. And he could live with that. Kendrich lifted him from the asphalt and swung behind him, catching Omari’s throat between his arms and his chest.

Omari, I will choke you unconscious and drag you out of this cursed city if I have to, but I am not letting you climb up there, Kendrich grunted.

Omari clawed at his neck, trying to break his hold, but Kendrich was military trained and his lock was tight. He could feel himself growing dizzy and he knew Kendrich’s threat was something he would easily carry through with.

You know this won’t work; they are always prepared for assassins. So, let’s get out of here, Valeria added.

She was right. The most powerful man in the world couldn’t be defeated by a single gunshot from a crazy person. He tapped Kendrich’s wrist with his fingers and the larger man released his grip. Omari coughed and bent over as he tried to bring air back to his lungs. Over his coughing, he could hear more people flooding the streets. It was time to go. They turned from the alley and poured back into the streets. Moving with haste, they tried to push past a crowd of people forming behind the orange cones blocking off the street.

Where are you going? a stern voice called behind them. A shotgun rifle was attached to the person speaking, and it was pointed directly at Kendrich’s back. Kendrich turned slowly with his hands held high. He could see the city’s exit only a few hundred yards away, but he could also hear the horns ringing in the distance. Their window was closing with each passing second.

Good morning, officer, my friends and I have urgent business, he replied with an air of cheer. We need to—

You aren’t going anywhere; in accordance with the King’s law, every citizen must attend his parade. More rifles and badges surrounded them slowly. Now, find a spot in the route and settle in. The officer commanded and forcefully guided them to a spot in the parade route waiting for their conqueror and greatest enemy to stroll through town.

Omari sunk into the crowd of people surrounding them, avoiding Valeria’s glare as the king’s parade began. His skin grew hot, knowing they were stuck here only due to his impulsiveness. If they’d abandoned the city immediately, they could have escaped. They’d be jailed as traitors if caught leaving now.

DRUMS AND HORNS BLARED through the packed city streets signaling the arrival of the king. Thousands packed like sardines on the tight roads, their voices echoing false praises, Paxis! Paxis! Long May He Reign! They roared even louder than the instruments, the slightest twinge of fear in their throats. The procession was led by the dancers of Pyre, clad in a beautiful, vibrant red. Violins echoed the song of the king, sadness in their strings. The men and women of Pyre gyrated with grace and beauty, their movements effortless and awe inspiring.

Trailing behind them were the former mayors of the cities clad in regal suits of the finest cotton, representing the glory of their homes. Donning a purple tie was the Mayor of Brunswick and a blue one for the Mayor of Catalpa. Farther behind them were the mayors of Rivern, Asale, Pyre, and Marindale dressed in green, brown, red, and black respectively.

Omari swallowed hatred in his throat as the Mayor of Marindale passed. Alexander Cohen was a former friend of his father’s. He had sold them out, abandoning the city and watching the destruction with the king. Valeria’s hand covered his, which had subconsciously switched to his knife once more. There were so many of his enemies, only a few dozen yards away.

Trailing the mayors was the main event of the procession——a giant tower carried by the king’s unfortunate slaves, wearing dark brown rags and busted walking shoes. The tower stood an imposing four stories tall, ornately decorated in gold, the hue of the capital city of Chryso. Woven in golden silk was a banner of seven black stripes with seven dark blue stars forming a circle. The new flag of Calmeria hung proudly in the center of the tower before its master, King Paxis Wallace, the First of His Name.

His majestic tower was surrounded by a security formation of well-armed soldiers wearing the camouflaged fatigues of the army with the generals leading and waving to the crowd. Their smirks of superiority turned a knot in Omari’s stomach. Paxis’s cabin was high in the sky atop the tower, concealed with translucent bulletproof material. A round from Omari’s pistol would have bounced and fallen harmlessly to the city streets. The king was often a fool, but not enough so as to come before the conquered unprotected.

Atop the float, Paxis waved at the crowd with a massively arrogant smile on his face, the same smirk one gives after beating an entire nation into submission. His suit’s black threads and golden silk tie stood out against the white hairs on his chin and his beige skin. He bore an air of regality and wealth and the sinister edge of a tyrant who’d taken the world with cruelty. Mounted upon the king’s head, a seven-pronged golden crown glowed brightly as the light from the sun reflected its glory.

There’s the bastard, Omari whispered to Valeria.

Shhhh, are you trying to get us killed? Kendrich whispered back harshly. They definitely have spies in this crowd, listening for dissention.

You would know, Valeria shot back, her pupils cartwheeling in her eyes. A former soldier, Kendrich frowned at her. He hated when they reminded him of his past.

They can’t hear us over all this noise, Omari replied. Glancing around in disgust, These people are so loud, it’s almost like they are actually worshipping him.

They probably are; this is one of the only places that wasn’t actually bombed. Traitors, Julian added, spitting on the ground.

The next group of soldiers stood, their bald leader guiding the company line. Kendrich immediately dropped his head. We have to go, he said quietly.

Finally, Valeria scoffed, turning without so much as another glance.

"No, seriously we have to go!"

The procession continued and Omari noticed that Kendrich never lifted his head once; he’d pulled the drawstrings on his sweatshirt tight and hidden his face. As the procession began to end, the police guarding them shifted to follow the king in preparation for his speech. Their window to leave was open, yet small.

In the parade, it’s Lieutenant Nagent, or rather, Captain now. If he spots me, we’re dead, Kendrich said as the crowd started to move. So, let’s get out of here, quickly.

Kendrich began pushing his way to the back of the crowd as the throngs of cheering people moved in the opposite direction. Omari saw Kendrich bump into a small child who was standing awkwardly, unable to see the parade. The child lingered before looking up at the powerful man’s frame.

I’m sorry, sir, the young kid said as Kendrich continued to push past the boy and the rest of the crowd.

OMARI STEPPED THROUGH the last brush into a clearing in the forest. Before him was a cabin, built of oak trees from the very forest he was standing in. It was a small, stocky building with a tiled roof and a wide brick chimney erupting through the ceiling. On the right was a short flight of concrete stairs, leading to the door. Out front was a blue tiled porch with outdoor chairs and a card table. There was a chest with a lock on it behind the table—their guns and ammunition. The windows had green borders; there were three outwardly facing windows on the first floor and a slit window on the second floor in Omari and Julian’s room. It was quaint, built by their own hands, but it was home.

Kendrich stuck the key in the lock, looked over his shoulder, and stepped into the doorway. He paced through the kitchen and shut the door to his bedroom without a word to his younger companions.

Welp, he’s in one of his funks, Valeria noted.

She entered the house and returned with three glasses, a large ice cube in each one, and handed them to the two boys. Omari and Julian sat at the outdoor table, Omari swiping a few stray leaves off with his right hand. Valeria went back inside the house and returned with two glass bottles, setting them on the card table. Omari grabbed the one filled with whiskey and plucked the top from the bottle. He reached over and poured it into his and Julian’s glasses. Valeria meanwhile twisted the top off the tequila and poured her own poison, sitting in between the boys.

Seeing Nagent must have brought back some bad memories, ones that he’d rather forget, Omari said. Memories and guilt, all the things he did under Nagent’s orders. I don’t think he’s ever forgiven himself.

It’s a bad time to bring it up then, Omari, Julian swirled his whiskey and took a tiny sip.

Listen, we can’t put it off much longer, he replied, setting the whiskey glass down. We’ve been with Kendrich since we were ten years old. He basically raised us, but we can’t stay here forever. This off-the-grid life allowed us to grow and do it without the constant surveillance of the kingdom, but it’s time to venture past all this now. Valeria, you’re with me, right?

Of course, she threw her legs on the table. I’ve been tired of living in the woods. And I love Kendrich, I do, but he can be so stiff and regimented. It’s been time to go and we’ve stayed as a way to thank him for all he’s done, but I can’t any longer.

I’m with you as well, Julian said. I just think we should address it at another time. You saw the mood he was in.

If we wait for a perfect moment, it’ll never happen, Omari sipped his whiskey and set the glass down on the table. He reached over to the chest behind the table and grabbed a small hardcover book from on top. He poured his brain into a book detailing the fictional stories of a magical school.

OMARI, VALERIA, AND Kendrich sat around the dinner table as Julian was finishing up in the kitchen. It was his turn to cook for the evening and the smell of roasted venison, onions, and mushrooms filled the air in their small cabin.

Kendrich, there’s something we need to tell you, Omari started. His words were interrupted as a blaring alarm horn sounded from above. They had motion detectors in the woods near their home, motion detectors that only sounded when there was an abundance of movement. No one ever came here.

It has to be false; it has to be.

Omari reached under the table, his fingers gripping the steel of a pistol kept under the dinner table. Valeria hopped up and ran to the closet, pushing the clothes to the side she grabbed two shotguns and tossed one to Julian. Kendrich sprinted to the window and peered outside. He turned back with fear across his face.

It’s not false.

Kendrich, my boy, a voice came through on a loudspeaker. I have the place surrounded. If I came to kill you, I simply would have fired bullets all through the house. Now, do the right thing and open the door.

Omari leaned against the wall and took a quick peek out the window, his heart dropping. There were at least fifty soldiers in dark green camouflage surrounding their home. In the dark of the night, he could see their weapons trained on the cabin and their hands on the trigger. Standing before the mass of soldiers was a tall man with shoulders like a gorilla. The peeking light of the moon reflected off his head and showed a scar that crossed his jaw from the left to the right.

Omari glanced at Kendrich; he was frozen in place. There was a chance they could fight their way out of this, but who knew how many soldiers were lying in wait.

Kendrich, snap out of it, Omari said in a whisper.

Kendrich blinked and looked around the room. Valeria was crouched behind the front door with the barrel of her shotgun pressed to the wood. Julian was standing back in the middle of the kitchen and Omari was leaning on the left window.

It’s Nagent. Get to the tunnel, Kendrich whispered.

Omari nodded. He and Julian lifted the kitchen table and set it to the right. He bent down, placing his fingers on the edge of the rug, and yanked it. Underneath where the rug had been was a lock and a panel of wood. Valeria was back at the closet and she tossed Omari the key. He unlocked the panel and slid it to the right.

I’ve had enough, open the door in five . . . four . . . Nagent called from outside.

Valeria hopped inside the hole and her feet thudded on the hard dirt.

Three.

Julian jumped in next. He reached and grabbed the lantern from the right, twisting the lightbulb so that it popped on.

Two.

Omari leapt in. Kendrich was standing at the opening.

One!

A cascade of gunfire roared in the air. Omari ducked and covered his ears as bullets sprayed inside the home. Glass shattered and wood splintered. The hellfire was over in seconds and when the sound of gunfire ended, Omari felt wetness on his forehead. He touched it and glanced at his fingers: blood. It wasn’t his, he was sure of it. He glanced up and his heart sank. Kendrich stood over him with at least three bullet holes in him. His pants leg and his arm were bloody.

Kendrich, are you okay?

Be quiet, he whispered fiercely. He slid the panel over the tunnel and Omari heard the table being dragged back.

What are you doing? Omari asked in a panic, his heart beating against the walls of his chest.

Shh, Kendrich ordered. I can’t run from this.

The door opened with a bang and footsteps entered the home. Omari, Valeria, and Julian stood under the panel listening as someone entered their home.

Well, that was rude, wasn’t it? Look what you made me do to this nice place, Kendrich. Oh, damn, have you been shot? Omari guessed that this voice belonged to Nagent. Who else would know Kendrich’s name?

He heard extra footsteps enter the house and begin running around the cabin.

Kendrich pulled a chair from the table and sat down. His blood dripped on the floor and through the panel’s slit opening.

Are you offering me a seat? I’ll take one, Nagent said. He sat across from Kendrich. You look decent, had a little more wear and tear than I imagined, but it’s still you.

Edward, you’re still the same piece of shit you’ve always been, Kendrich replied.

Yes, well, I’ve been well. Captain Nagent now, I run the entire southern infantry under General Otto LaMoore. You could have been right by my side, had you not been afraid of a little dirty work.

I’d hardly call murdering entire towns of innocent people ‘dirty work,’ Edward. How can you sleep at night?

Peacefully; it was the beginning of a war after all. And those people were not innocent, they were traitors to the Crown and traitors must be dealt with.

Paxis is no king! Kendrich pounded the table with his fist. More blood seeped into the tunnel below. He’s a president that you all allowed to have too much power. You’ve betrayed everything our democracy stood for by going along with Paxis’s coup.

I chose the side of the man in whom I believed. Paxis promised to bring law and order to a broken nation and he has achieved that dream. Regardless of how we got here, he was right then, and the king continues to be right now.

What is it you want? If you’re here to kill me, go ahead and get on with it!

Nagent’s feet pounded against the roof of the tunnel; he must have stood and began walking.

I’m not here for you, Nagent began. There was a shuffling of cotton like he was reaching inside his pockets. I’m looking for a young man named Omari Castle. His picture.

Omari gulped and felt his heart catch in his throat. Julian and Valeria were staring at him.

I don’t know him, now leave, Kendrich replied.

A chuckle echoed above ground. You were with him at the parade this morning. Remember the little boy you bumped into; he was one of mine. He planted a tracker on you—can’t believe you haven’t found it yet. So, you do know the man I’m looking for.

Fine, I know him. But I can’t tell you where he is. Omari lives in the city somewhere; I think he’s got an apartment in what used to be the arts district.

Nagent’s feet shuffled around the cabin and the other soldiers started moving their way back into the kitchen.

Another lie, Nagent started. All this food in here, it’s not for one man. My soldiers found pictures of Omari and two other young ones upstairs. Where is he?

I don’t know, he didn’t come home. Kendrich’s voice sounded pained now as if the blood loss and bullet wounds were affecting him.

Let me explain. Omari has caught the eye of some very important people. The Phantoms have his picture, and those bastards are sadistic. There was an incident almost a decade ago in Pyre.

Omari shuddered at hearing that. He couldn’t forget what had happened at their first home.

Your friend Omari, Nagent continued. He’s been using that magic, and our eyes see everything. Just last week he saved a little girl from a pack of wolves. Kind young man he is, but the girl, she had a big mouth. I will pardon you of your desertion, if you point me in the direction of the boy, Edward Nagent finished.

I don’t know where he is, Kendrich said defiantly.

Captain, a foreign voice called out. All their stuff is still upstairs; they left in a hurry or they’re still here.

Well then, search every inch of the house! Nagent ordered.

Kendrich tapped his foot against the panel’s opening three times. It was the signal to run, but Omari couldn’t move. Instead, he leaned forward, peering through a slit in the floor.

I won’t let you, Kendrich hopped up from the table in a flash. He was at the knife block in the blink of an eye and grabbed the biggest steak knife they owned. His speed was incredible—truthfully it was impossible, or rather, it had been impossible before the Shadow-Fire. He drove the blade of his knife into the six soldiers separating him and Nagent, and their bodies fell within two seconds flat.

A thud sounded against his skull as Nagent cracked him over the head with the butt of his rifle. Kendrich fell to the ground and grabbed his forehead. Guns surrounded him and Omari watched as his blood continued to pour out onto the cabin floor. The blood he was losing had to have been fatal and Omari couldn’t bring himself to break away. He was hoping, praying, that Nagent and his thugs would leave so they could take Kendrich to the hospital. A completely unrealistic hope, but hope was all he had left.

Interesting, very interesting, Nagent remarked, staring over Kendrich’s wounded form. "So, you’re a shadow as well?"

He then twisted his head and stepped towards the tunnel. Omari was frozen in fear. Nagent kicked the table over and bent down. Omari jumped back. Nagent ripped back the panel and pointed the rifle inside, his flashlight right in Omari’s eyes.

Found you, Edward Nagent grinned.

Julian reached up to the roof of the tunnel and touched it with his fingertips. The ground above him vibrated and dirt collapsed like a waterfall between Omari and Nagent. The dirt wall was enough that Omari could barely see Nagent, followed by two of his goons, hop inside the cavernous tunnel.

Run! Julian said. He touched the dirt wall again and it cracked, hardening like concrete, separating them from their pursuers.

You have to go! Kendrich roared from up top. Either you three live, or we all die. Don’t lose your life over me!

Omari felt stuck to the spot—leaving Kendrich behind seemed impossible. It seemed unfair, they had avoided trouble all these years, and now that was over because of his failures. His inability to control his anger, his usage of magic, and Kendrich’s life was forfeit. Valeria’s hand clamped on his shoulder and she pulled. He turned to look at her, tears forming at the edge of his eyes.

There’s nothing we can do for him, we have to go, Valeria said.

On the other side of the dirt wall Omari could hear Nagent laughing. Omari’s blood boiled over and there was a loud, deafening thud. The dirt wall shook, and dust fell from it where Nagent’s head was. He stepped back and raised his arms. His soldiers had found their sledgehammer; he would be through that wall in seconds.

Omari took one last look through the cracks in the floor at Kendrich’s body lying there and turned to run, following Valeria and Julian through the tunnel.

They wasted not a second longer, sprinting through the tight tunnel, pushing through the various forks and paths, their feet pounding against the stones of their underground road. The lantern provided little light, but they knew this tunnel so well they could run it blindfolded, Kendrich ensured that.

It should have never happened this way; they had been safe and secluded. Omari heard another loud thud echo in the darkness and then a cheer of triumph. He guessed that Nagent had broken through and was now in the tunnel with them. Julian heard it, too, he stopped and touched the ceiling of the tunnel. It groaned and shook, releasing another cascading wall of dirt that hardened to his touch. He’d used his magic to build this tunnel and he alone could control its whims, with his magic. Magic that was impossible before the Shadow-Fire.

2

OMARI

Omari watched with tears streaming as they arrived at the end of the tunnel. In front of them were four backpacks, each filled with ammunition, food, small tents, medical supplies, and other emergency items. Each person grabbed a rifle off the tunnel’s wall and slung it over their shoulder.

Phones, now, Valeria extended her arm to them.

I left mine inside the cabin, Julian said.

Valeria glanced to Omari. He silently reached in his pocket and removed a tiny device with a flip screen and the time displayed digitally on it. Valeria took them in her hand and threw them on the tunnel floor. She extended her arm and the cave lit as a tiny bolt of lightning shot from her fingertips. The phones exploded in the darkness. She turned to Julian. There was