Reign land of the elemen.., p.1
Reign (Land of the Elementals Book 4), page 1
REIGN
Land of the Elementals
Book Four
AARON OSTER
For my aunt, uncle, and family. Thanks for hosting me every time I ask!
Prologue
The jarring feeling of her feet slapping rhythmically into the hard and cracked ground of the Flatlands barely registered in Grak’s mind. She was too worried about other, more pressing matters, like the fact that she was running for her life. Her lungs felt like they were on fire.
Behind her, barely keeping up, ran her companions and fellow escapees. Akkard and Hord, the former king and prince of the dwarves of the Jagged Peaks, were now reduced to this.
As a gremlin, she should have been having just as much trouble running as they were. She was oddly tall for one of her kind, and as such, the dwarves were having quite a hard time keeping pace.
However, the pounding in the distance, marking their pursuit, was more than enough to keep the group moving, regardless of how out of breath or exhausted they were.
The emerald spring moon shone high overhead, illuminating the landscape for miles on end. The Flatlands were just that, hundreds of miles of cracked, bare earth. There was nowhere to hide out here, especially with how bright the moon was that night.
Had this been the time of year when there was no moon, they might have stood a chance, but as it was now, there was no way Karria was going to allow them to escape.
Grak stumbled over a crack in the ground, only just managing to stop herself from sprawling face-first by planting the tip of her Mythicallium rapier into the earth. The metal flexed and bowed but sprang back into shape as she righted herself.
She threw another look over her shoulder, seeing the cloud of dust growing in the distance. She flashed back to when she and Arbor were in a similar situation, only last time, they were running toward the Jagged Peaks, not away from them.
“I can’t…keep going…much longer,” Hord wheezed, his pace flagging further as he tried to recover his breath.
“We need to keep moving,” Grak said, slowing to match his speed.
“Come on,” Akkard said, placing a hand on his brother’s back. “You can do this.”
Truthfully, none of them were in good shape. An entire month of being kept in darkness, trapped in the tunnel leading into the throne room, and fed the bare minimum to keep them alive didn’t exactly lend themselves to keeping them fit and healthy.
In all honesty, Grak was sure Karria was going to kill them. That was why the three of them had worked tirelessly on a way out. Karria was smarter than all of them combined and had kept a strict rotation of guards on them at all times. Additionally, Grak had been shackled in Reflum chains to keep her from accessing her magic.
Just two nights ago, they’d gotten wind that the girl had left Heart for some reason, and just an hour later, they found a way out. It hadn’t been easy, but with Hord’s knowledge of crafting, he’d managed to use a dagger Grak had swiped from one of their guards and fashion a lockpick.
After that, it was just a matter of Grak freezing their way out, snagging her rapier, and running for the Flatlands. Their only chance was to make it to the Endless Wood that bordered Ryevine – the lands Arbor had been given for winning the noble competition. Of course, none of them even knew where Arbor was, but this was still their best chance of escaping her.
Grak could feel a painful stitch forming in her side as she picked up the pace again, constantly throwing glances over her shoulder as the signs of pursuit grew nearer. It was only a matter of time before they were caught – they all knew that. They were trying to get as close to the Endless Wood as they could in hopes of attracting a passing gremlin patrol.
The one thing they were all scared of was that Karria would be part of the pursuit party. If she were, there was no chance they would escape. There was ample evidence that she wasn’t among them, though, as Karria would undoubtedly have caught them by now using her horseless carriage or some other construct.
Then again, her Bestowal magic, aside from giving her incredible brainpower, also seemed to awaken a sort of sick sadism. Karria had taken great pleasure in mentally torturing them during their incarceration. She’d picked and prodded, weaning all their secrets and desires, then turned them all against them.
The sweet, caring, and loyal girl they all knew was long gone, the Bestowal magic having completely taken over. The one thing none of them had been able to figure out was how they’d managed to escape with someone as smart as Karria keeping tabs. Surely, she might have known that something like this could happen, which was why Grak still wasn’t sure if Karria was among the pursuit or not.
Allowing them to escape only to be recaptured was very much along the lines of what this new Karria would do. It would be delicious fun as far as she was concerned, a great way to increase the mental damage she’d already caused. Grak sincerely hoped that wasn’t the case because she wasn’t sure how much more she could take.
They continued running, their pace slowing to a near-crawl over the next hour. Hord’s entire body was trembling, and he burned with fever. Grak was doing all she could to keep them cool, but Hord was sick, and this run was making it much worse.
“I…can’t…go on,” Hord said, finally stumbling to a halt. “You two…leave me…get help…save yourselves.”
Grak and Akkard exchanged a look as Hord collapsed to his hands and knees, his entire body shuddering and shaking. He heaved several times, but there was nothing for him to throw up. They were starving, dehydrated, and exhausted. Running at this point would be more of a detriment.
“No,” Grak said. “I refuse to leave you behind. We’ll stay and make our stand here. Maybe we’ll be able to fight them off and make it back to the forest.”
“Love your optimism, lass,” Akkard said, crouching to help his brother lie down. “But what are the odds that Karria didn’t send a strong enough force to bring us down?”
“Probably none,” Grak admitted. “But she couldn’t have accounted for everything.”
“Probably not,” Akkard admitted, rolling a shivering Hord onto his side. “But only the two of us are fit for battle, and neither of us are in the best shape. Also, while you might have your weapon, all I have is a dagger. I’m afraid there isn’t much I can do with that.”
“Are you just going to give up, then?” she asked, her voice a bit heated. “Roll over and just let yourself be taken back?”
Akkard let out a long sigh but shook his head.
“My people need me, and whether I’m their king right now or not, I have to do everything in my power to assure their freedom. If that means fighting a pointless battle against insurmountable odds, then so be it.”
Grak gave him a tight-lipped smile, then promptly fell on her behind and pulled her knees up to her chin. Akkard collapsed right beside her. Their course of action right now was clear. They needed to recover what little strength they could so that they might be able to put up a fight when their pursuers arrived.
It didn’t take them long, only about twenty minutes. Had they kept running, they might have been able to stay ahead for another hour or two, but now that they’d had time to rest and recover, both Grak and Akkard were in better shape to put up a fight.
The troupe of dwarves, fifteen in all, came to a halt some five yards from them. They were all dressed in light mail armor – better to run with – and carried long-shafted spears.
“I don’t know how she knew, but the Lady said you’d be stopping here,” the lead dwarf said.
He stepped forward in front of the main group and pulled back the cloth covering most of his face.
“What the hell kind of dwarf is that?!” Grak hissed as the dwarf’s skin became visible.
Unlike the normal skin tone of the dwarves, ranging from a light tan to outright pale due to their time spent underground, this dwarf’s skin was a dark gray. His eyes were a pale yellow, and his hair and beard were a stark white.
“A new breed,” the dwarf said – having overheard her. “We were given power superior to those of the regular dwarves. The Lady saw fit to bestow me with the might of magic. You may as well give up now. You don’t stand a chance.”
“We’ll see about that,” Grak said, pointing her rapier at the dwarf.
He gestured, and the others moved to circle them. These dwarves, unlike the gray-skinned one, looked relatively normal. The fact that the dwarf spoke of a ‘Lady,’ instead of Jek, meant they were taking orders from Karria directly, not the old leader. In their time incarcerated, they’d overheard much. As it stood now, most of the dwarves of the Jagged Peaks still believed Jek to be in charge. Apparently, though, there was a group who answered to her directly.
“It’s only fifteen to three,” Akkard said, brandishing his dagger. “I think we can handle you just fine.”
The gray-skinned dwarf grinned, revealing overly large teeth, then gestured for his men to move in and attack. Grak’s rapier flashed out as she reached for her Origin. Blue light flared along the tip, crackling and freezing as it came into contact with the first of the dwarves.
He screamed as the tip pierced his neck, sharpened icicles tearing their way through his skin and freezing his head solid. The dwarf toppled to the ground with a solid thunk, but Grak was barely paying attention. She spun, her rapier whistling through the air and slicing the spearhead from the weapon thrust at her. Her rapier thrust forward then, and a lance of ice shot out, spearing through the center of the dwarf ’s forehead.
Beside her, Akkard fought desperately to ward off the longer weapons with his dagger. It was difficult at first, but when one of the dwarves overextended, his hand snagged the haft, dragging the unfortunate dwarf forward. There was a spray of crimson as he slammed the dagger, up to the hilt, into the dwarf’s eye, leaving it there and turning the spear around on the other dwarves.
With three of their comrades down, the others began to act a bit warier, all but the gray-skinned dwarf, who shoved through the hesitant crowd and walked right up to Grak. The gremlin woman struck, her rapier flicking out. To her complete and utter shock, the dwarf raised a hand and caught it!
Grak poured her magic into the blade, sending a freezing wave pouring into the dwarf. However, instead of doing any damage, it seemed to simply vanish, sucked away by some invisible force.
Grak blinked as the dwarf grinned wide, then a massive force slammed into her, impacting the center of her chest and pinning her to the ground. Akkard let out a yell, twirling the spear and trying to hit the dwarf. He easily sidestepped, avoiding the gleaming steel tip, and struck upward.
The blow shattered the haft of the weapon, causing Akkard to stumble. The other dwarves reacted immediately, pouncing on the disarmed former king and bearing him to the ground.
The two of them struggled and kicked, trying to free themselves from the dwarves’ grips, but neither had the strength to do so.
“What the hell are you?!” Grak screamed as the gray-skinned dwarf walked up to her, a pair of dull, Reflum manacles dangling from his grip.
“Well, seeing as you’re all going back to the Lady’s prison, I guess I can tell you,” the dwarf said, crouching down and locking one of her wrists.
Grak felt her magic vanish, the metal sealing off her ability to access her Origin.
“I have the ability to repel or absorb magic. I can use any absorbed power like a bludgeon, using the force collected to strike at my enemies or, in your case, simply pin them down.”
“So, that’s why you caught her blade but avoided the dwarf’s spear. Good to know.”
The gray-skinned dwarf whirled around at the sound of that voice, only to catch a gleaming steel blade right through his eye. Grak watched in shock as the dwarf fell to the side, his body twitching and black smoke rising off his corpse.
The dwarves – who’d been busy tying the prone Akkard and Hord – all let out cries of surprise as an elderly elf suddenly appeared in their midst. Her hands flashed out, striking their chests and sending them staggering back.
“Who the hell are you?” Akkard asked, looking up as the elven woman unwound the rope tying his wrists.
The elf didn’t answer, slamming a palm into the center of his chest, causing the dwarf to double over. She spun, coming right at Grak, who tried to stagger to her feet. The Reflum cuff had yet to be tightened, so it fell off as she moved, restoring her access to her magic. However, she wasn’t fast enough to avoid the elf’s strike, which caught her in the face.
Grak let out a yelp at the pain, then dropped to the ground as her entire body buzzed as though charged with power. Her fatigue vanished in an instant, her exhausted muscles, clenching stomach, and the bruising on her chest healing completely.
“Don’t just lie there,” the elf called as she rose from Hord’s side. “There are still plenty of enemies left.”
Grak leaped to her feet, feeling as though she’d had a full meal, a great night’s sleep, and had fully warmed up for the fight. She reached down, snagging her rapier, and turned to face the enemy once more.
Shockingly, Hord was rising to his feet as well, looking healthy as an ox, despite the fact that he’d had a raging fever just seconds earlier.
The sudden loss of their leader and the seemingly miraculous recovery of their escaped prisoners was making the remaining dwarves weary of attacking. Grak took full advantage of that, lunging forward and slamming the tip of her rapier into one’s chest. A bolt of ice shot straight through the dwarf, spearing the one beside him.
Another dwarf tried to stab her from behind, but Grak extended a hand, and a shield of ice formed over it, blocking the spear tip. The ice then ran back over the spear, trapping the dwarf in place by freezing his hands to the haft.
He screamed and struggled but couldn’t move. Grak ripped her blade free of the dwarf, leaving both him and the one to his left to fall to the ground as frozen blocks of meat. She swung the tip of the blade around behind her, spearing the frozen dwarf through the eye with another bolt of ice.
Hord and Akkard were busy as well. The dwarf brothers had gotten ahold of spears and were working together to finish off a small group facing them. Two of the dwarves tried to turn and run, but the elderly elf grabbed a fallen spear and hurled it, catching one straight through the back.
The dwarf tripped, and the protruding tip of the spear caught the second one in the ankle, bringing him down. The throw hadn’t killed either of them, but it had prevented them from escaping. Grak was on them in an instant, her rapier slashing across their throats and killing them without mercy.
The battle was over in just a matter of seconds, leaving the corpses of their entire pursuit party lying in pools of their own blood or as frozen blocks of meat.
“We can’t stay here,” the elf woman said as they all turned to face her. “Gila lizards will be coming in droves, and I don’t think any of us want to be here when they arrive.”
The three of them nodded in agreement. Glia lizards were the only creatures native to the Flatlands. They were gigantic, spanning between six and eight feet in length, and traveled in packs ranging from five to fifty. They would eat anything, even their own kind, and could survive by drinking the saltwater from the lake at the heart of the Flatlands. Their teeth carried a corrosive acid, and even a single bite could prove to be fatal.
“Thank you so much for rescuing us,” Grak said as they all jogged away from the scene of the battle. “Who are you, and why did you come to our aid?”
“My name is Palmine,” she said. “I was traveling and happened to run across you. I guessed by the fact that one of those dwarves was radiating bad magic like a beacon that they probably weren’t the good guys. So, I’d say you owe your rescue more to dumb luck than anything else.”
“Thank you again,” Grak said, dipping her head.
“You have some right amazing magic, lassie,” Hord said. “I was burning with a fever. Just a single touch and I feel better than ever!”
Grak and Akkard nodded along in agreement.
“I do what I can,” Palmine said. “So, where are you three headed?”
“Back to Ryevine,” Grak said. “We have friends there, and they’re going to want to know what happened here.”
The elf nodded.
“Well, it just so happens that I was heading there myself.”
“You were?” Grak asked, suddenly suspicious.
They’d had some serious problems with elves in the past, and she didn’t want to lead a potentially dangerous enemy right to their gates.
“I have a couple of friends who should be there, at least according to a reliable source. An elf named Kya and the new viscount’s sister, Karria.”
Grak shared a look with the two dwarves, which wasn’t lost on the older elf.
“I take it something happened?”
Grak let out a sigh. She had a choice to make. Did she trust the elf who saved their lives or not? Seeing as she could have just let them die, she decided to give the woman the benefit of the doubt. If she turned out to be an enemy, she was fairly confident she could kill her before she could act.
“It’s a bit of a long story,” Grak said. “Luckily for us, it seems as though we have some time.”
Ryevine was a good month away by foot, even if the Endless Wood was quite close. They were lucky it was spring, too, because traveling through the freezing wilderness in winter would not have been pleasant. Grak knew that from bitter experience. She took a deep breath and launched into her story.
“It all started when Arbor received word about a Magma-Tiger that was stirring up a volcano…”
1
A full moon, shining and white – and nothing at all like the one back home – hung in the sky overhead. It cast a flat light, reflecting back off the snow-blanketed landscape surrounding them on all sides. Though it was relatively flat at its center, the area rose at a steady incline, rising to jagged mountainous peaks and enclosing the entire area, keeping outsiders from wandering in by accident.
