Dare, p.1
Tar and Bone: An Achten Tan Prequel, page 1
part #1 of The Sands Of Achten Tan Series
Reading Order
The Sands of Achten Tan
Speechless in Achten Tan – Book One
~ In the Heart of the Storm (Short story)
~ Pirate in the Desert (Short story)
The Bone Master – Book Two
Tar and Bone – Prequel / Book Three
The Magic Within – Book Four (Forthcoming)
Children of the Stars
The Goodbye Kids – Book One
The Girl from the Sky – Book Two
Tar and Bone
An Achten Tan Prequel
Debbie Iancu-Haddad
Debbie Iancu-Haddad
Copyright © 2024 by Debbie Iancu-Haddad
Print ISBN: 9798333109057
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact Debbie Iancu-Haddad at @debbieiancu, https://www.debbieiancu.com.
The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.
Characters in this novel first appeared in the short stories "Speechless" and "A Kiss in the (Acid) Rain" published in the Anthology Achten Tan: Land of Dust and Bone by Skullgate Media in August 2020. Any characters, settings, or ideas that appeared in Achten Tan: Land of Dust and Bone are used with permission of their individual creators, in accordance with that book's publishing agreement.
Cover art by Sivan Tzur.
Chapter headers and line breaks – Illustrations by Etheric Designs
Maps of Achten Tan and the Bone Wastes by Aaron Hockett.
Contents
Dear Arc Reader
About Tar and Bone
Map of Achten Tan
Map of the Bone Wastes
Welcome to Achten Tan
Prologue - The lost boy
1. Chapter 1 - Kamal
2. Chapter 2 – D'or
3. Chapter 3 - Kamal
4. Chapter 4 - Kamal
5. Chapter 5 - D'or
6. Chapter 6 - Kamal
7. Chapter 7 - D’or
8. Chapter 8 - D'or
9. Chapter 9 – Kamal
10. Chapter 10 – D'or
11. Chapter 11 – Kamal
12. Chapter 12- Kamal
13. Chapter 13 – D'or
14. Chapter 14 – Kamal
15. Chapter 15 - D'or
16. Chapter 16 – Kamal
17. Chapter 17 – D'or
18. Chapter 18 - Kamal
19. Chapter 19 - D'or
20. Chapter 20 – Kamal
21. Chapter 21 – D'or
22. Chapter 22 – Kamal
23. Chapter 23 - D'or
24. Chapter 24 – Kamal
25. Chapter 25 – D'or
26. Chapter 26 – Kamal
27. Chapter 27 – D'or
28. Chapter 28 - Kamal
29. Chapter 29 – D'or
Epilogue - Kamal
Dear reader
The Sands of Achten Tan Series
About the Author
Dear Arc Reader
This copy of Tar and Bone is intended for Advance Readers, which means that you get to read the book before anyone else, yay, but it also means that it is still being proofread and some sneaky mistakes haven't been weeded out yet. Rest assured we are working day and night to catch them all.
If you spot any mistakes please do not report them as quality issues to Amazon. Instead drop me a message online and I'll happily correct them.
Thanks again for supporting an indie author and I hope you love the book.
About Tar and Bone
Thirteen-year-old Kamal has been waiting his whole life to join the An'chers - the giant ant riders who protect the desert town of Achten Tan. Despite his disability, a crooked leg caused by a childhood injury, he's determined to succeed in the tryouts and become a cadet. To overcome the challenge, he strikes a bargain with an unexpected ally.
D'or is a half-elf with a dark secret. When the young giant Tar-tule rider agrees to help Kamal, his hazardous magic and the enemies it attracts puts both boys in harm's way.
Now they must evade the fanatic high elves who see D'or's very existence as an abomination, and the dread sorcerer C'naga, whose interest in the boy threatens to lead them both down a dark path, from which there is no return.
Tar and Bone is a standalone prequel story to Speechless in Achten Tan. It includes themes of friendship, coming of age, and making tough choices. The content is suitable for younger teen readers.
Prologue - The lost boy
7years ago
Kamal was a gift given to Otara by the river.
Otara Subjugate was a long way from home. Achten Tan wasn’t a place you got emotional about, but it was where she’d grown up and made her home. She knew how to navigate its dangers, but now she was facing danger of a different kind.
The boy’s face was bloody. A head wound just under his left ear had colored most of his pale hair crimson like the sun setting over the Everfalls. Streaks ran down his neck into his light woven tunic, the type algae farmers wore, turning the fabric dark.
He couldn’t have been older than five or six years, though large for his age. Well-fed and cared for… yet now, he lay battered by the river, discarded carelessly by the stream, his right leg twisted at an unnatural angle beneath his body.
As a healer, Otara had seen many injuries. Still, her stomach churned at the sight and she steeled herself, determined to move past the body without gazing too long. Then the boy moaned, his eyelids fluttering like pale butterflies on his stained cheeks.
“Mother?” he gasped in Gnomish.
She'd already guessed his origin by his algae clothing, his pale golden coloring, and the luminescent glow of his skin, but that solidified her conclusion.
Otara knew. Of course, she knew who he belonged to. She just didn’t have the time to retrace her steps and travel back up the Everflow to the cursed caverns where the algae farmers lived. Achten Tan needed its healer back, and stopping to tend to this boy was already a delay. The kindest thing would be to walk away and leave the boy to his fate, but her healer's oath wouldn’t allow her to leave him to be devoured by a Boggoliz. Frankly, she was surprised they weren’t already there, drawn by the smell of blood. Presumably, it was because most of the blood washed away down the river in which he lay, partially hidden between the rocks.
She'd take him back to Achten Tan and send word to the caverns. More than her obligation.
Otara stepped carefully between the rocks and slipped her hands beneath the boy, careful not to jostle his injuries.
“Mother?” the boy said again, a small hand rising to touch her face, bright golden eyes searching her face.
“I’m here,” she said in Gnomish, though why she laid that claim she wasn’t sure. The boy smiled and closed his eyes, resting his bloodied head on her shoulder. Her breast tightened and for a moment she fought to draw breath.
She’d always wondered what it would be like if she and Rayne had a little boy… A sweet child, with Rayne's eyes and carefree laugh, and her nose and careful ways. They never got a chance before he was gone.
She’d send word back to the gnomes… one day.
Chapter 1 - Kamal
Present day
Pounding feet pattered on the stairs of Healing Rib like rain. I ran as fast as I could, but I couldn't keep up with the other boys. Their laughter mocked me. As they pulled so far ahead I had no chance of catching up. I stopped, defeated.
They'd gone up. They’d have to come down, eventually.
Glancing over the side made my insides churn. Only a few turns up the rib and I was already shaking, but not from fear. My bad leg was throbbing.
Leaning against the smooth cool rib, I slid down till my backside hit the stairs. I'd managed about four turns this time. At least I was improving. Pulling off my dusty sandal, I massaged my aching leg, taking extra care of the seam of scar tissue around my knee. The scar stood out, red and angry, like a brand against my pale skin. My older sister Krawli says my skin is so white it glows. She's just teasing. I’m pale, but I don’t glow. I’m not a gasting gnome. But the scar wasn't the worst of it. Mother is the best healer in Achten Tan, but even though she set my mangled leg as best she could, it grew twisted. My rotten luck.
A shadow blocked the sun above me, and I looked up. A boy stood on the landing, staring down at me with a frown on his face, which was brown as the desert sand at twilight.
"Aloii? Are you okay?"
Pfftt." I snort, because showing weakness in Achten Tan would get you eaten alive. "Course I'm okay. Got a pebble in my shoe." I slipped my sandal back on and pushed myself up till I was standing.
His long curly hair hid his ears and most of his forehead. Bright green eyes peeked from under the light brown locks, creased in disbelief.
"Are you sure?"
I didn’t know him. Never seen him before and I didn’t want his pity. My tone was less than kind when I asked, "Are you lost, or are you looking for something to steal?"
The boy swayed as the verbal jab hit him dead center, hurt pooling in his eyes. I shoved down the guilt as, without another word, he turned away from me and resu
Another rotation down the stairs, three turns above the dusty streets, and the rib base brought me home. I thumped into our rooms, closing the bone door too hard as usual, and Mother turned from the stove, her dark hair piled high on her head to keep it away from the food. Her mouth quirked up when she noticed me.
"Hungry?" she asked, waiting for my nod, though the answer was clear. "Of course you are." These days I was always hungry. I was already bigger than most of the boys my age. "You'd eat the Ribs of Achten Tan if you had enough sauce," Mother joked as she placed a steaming plate of ribs and fried tubers in front of me, referring to the giant skeletal bones of the ancient leviathan we lived in.
I burned my fingers and mouth on the hot sticky meat, but I was too hungry to wait. "Well, tar sauce is my favorite," I said after I licked my lips. "I'd dunk the ribs in the tar moat and gobble them up."
Mother laughed, the same way she did every time I told that joke. "Just be careful you don't scoop up a Tar-tule by mistake."
"I'd eat it too… and its rider…" Mother stood behind me, one hand ruffling my hair and the other placed lightly on my shoulder, grounding me. "That reminds me," I added, looking up at her. "There was a boy on the stairs before, a Smish."
"Kamal." My mother clapped my shoulder hard. "We don't use that word."
"Sorry," I corrected between bites. "A Half-Elf? Can I say that?" My mother huffed but didn't correct me. "I thought all the elves lived up in North Ribs by the Tar-tule enclosures."
Mother left my side, taking a seat opposite me. "They do."
"Then what was one doing here?" I asked, and Mother frowned.
"I don’t know, but most elf born don't mix with us humans."
"Well, if he's half and half, I imagine he's already mixed with humans." I licked my fingers to get every last drop of sauce. "He had eyes as green as a Tar-tule…"
"Hmm," Mother hummed. She stared at me long and hard. Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned his eyes. She stood before I could ask more and opened our door to peer out, gathering her shawl and her medicine bag.
"Where's Krawli?' I asked before she could leave.
"Down at the An'cher barracks. They had an injury. A Runkle got loose and threw an An'cher who was trying to corral it. If you've finished eating, could you go down and see if she's done? I'll be in the clinic."
I flinched at the request and she tensed, immediately alert. "What is it? Is your leg bothering you again?"
"No," I lied, without making eye contact. "I'm fine."
I didn't need her to worry. Every day I was getting bigger and stronger and one day soon I'd become an An'cher. An'chers don't worry about twisted legs. Their G'ants carry them. After I passed the An'cher trials, I'd have a giant ant of my own. Pushing back my chair I padded over to join Mother in the doorway. My head already reached past her shoulder.
"It won't be long before you're taller than me." Pulling my face towards her with a gentle hand on the back of my neck, she kissed my forehead. "While I can still reach," she added with a smile.
While Mother closed and locked the bone door, I led the way down the stairs carved out of the giant Healer's Rib of Achten Tan, trying to conceal my limp. Her eyes on me as I descended, felt like a solid weight on my shoulders, comforting yet heavy with worry and expectation.
We parted ways at the rib base. Mother entered her clinic, full of ailing Achten Tan residents, and I continued to the An'cher barracks next door, stopping as soon as I was out of sight to rub my aching knee. Gast this leg. It was forever holding me back. When the throbbing died down to a bearable ache, I continued to the Runkle enclosure.
At sixteen, my sister Krawli was Mother’s apprentice and on her way to becoming a healer in her own right. I spied her from a distance, her tar-colored braids thrown over her shoulder as she tended to a young An'cher. The boy couldn't have been much older than her. A light sheen of sweat marred his tanned skin, dripping down his dusty cheeks as he bit his lip and tried not to cry out. His cracked bone armor helmet lay off to one side. I picked it up to examine it. Only a powerful impact could break the sturdy casing.
"A G'ant kicked him," a soft voice said by my elbow. "I saw the whole thing."
I turned my head. The boy from the stairs was standing beside me, his expression neutral. He didn't seem to hold my earlier surliness against me and I caved to my curiosity.
"One of the runkles?" I pointed at the enclosure where they kept the yearling G'ants. The junior G’ants crowded by the fence, eyeing the proceedings. Almost fully grown, they stood fifteen to twenty feet from the ground to the top of their antennae and were always curious.
"Aye." The boy nodded, as if imparting a great secret. "You can't trust the Runkles. Pa says they're the most unpredictable." He nodded to a tall, dark-skinned man in An'cher's armor. I assumed that was his human father. So, his mother must be the Elf. I filed that information away for later, though why I would need it, I didn’t know. That also explained why he was at the An’cher barracks instead of up in North Ribs with the rest of the Elves.
"Look at that." He pointed at a broken section of fence, low enough for a runkle to hop. "Do you think it was vandalism?"
"Who would want a G'ant to escape?" I shuddered at the thought of a fifteen-foot insect roaming the streets of Achten Tan.
"Not everybody likes the An'chers…" he whispered, as if afraid of offending them.
"Na-ah,'' I shook my head. “Don't be a Bashdun. An'chers are heroes. Everyone knows that."
"I'm going to be a Tar-tule rider," he said with quiet confidence.
"Tar-tule riders are lame…" I scoffed, defensive of my dreams.
The boy narrowed his eyes at me. "Are you mocking something for being lame?"
I stepped back as if I'd been slapped, the air whooshing from my lungs as my mouth hung open, at a loss for words.
"D'or…" a large hand descended, smacking him on the back of his head, hard enough to bring tears to his eyes. I almost felt bad for him. Mother rarely hit us. His father stood over him scowling, then he turned to me.
"Forgive my son. He has learned no manners, no matter how hard his mother tries."
Refusing to admit how much D'or's comment stung, I shrugged. "That's alright. I am lame, but I'm still going to be an An'cher one day."
"That's the spirit." The man clapped me on the back so hard I almost fell forward, but he didn’t seem mean. He just used too much strength, without ill intent. "I'm Natick."
“Kamal.”
“The healer’s son.” Natick nodded toward Krawli. “That your sister?”
I nodded, used to the question. We don’t look alike. Krawli's skin was olive-toned and her hair was dark like Mother’s. Her serious face and thick eyebrows scrunched in concentration as she set the broken bone, preparing the An’cher to be taken to the clinic in Healing Rib.
“Kamal,” she beckoned me over, “run tell Mother we’ll need a suspension bed for this one, and get me the bone mending kit.”
With a glance over my shoulder at the Tar-tule boy, I took off back to the rib, once again feeling the subtle pressure of eyes on my back.
As I navigated the stairs to Mother's clinic, I tried to walk smoothly, hiding my limp. Stupid, but being watched made me self-conscious. If only I could walk like everyone else. I stilled as I heard footsteps gaining behind me on the stairs. I turned, surprised to see the boy following me.
"What do you want?" I couldn't keep the exasperation from my tone.
"Father told me to come help you, so I'm helping you."
"Go away. I don't need your help."
My harsh tone didn't dissuade him this time. He set his shoulders and jutted out his chin. "Well, you're getting it. Just shut up and let me carry something back."
I turned my back on him, resuming my tiring climb up the stairs, but the strain of pretending nothing bothered me only worsened my limp.
