Titans nest, p.27
Titan's Nest, page 27
Ezra turned and faced Tua and I, “I recommend learning the language quickly, otherwise training will be even more difficult. We don’t have much time.”
“Aye,” Roark nodded, “We leave for the Capital in three days, you will have to do most of your training on the road. We must reach the Nest before the Bitten Knights chose their apprentice and spread out across Dazawrath.”
Three days? My stomach tightened. Tua snorted his approval. If we left now we might be able to warn the Nest.
The black Scarab, at least eight feet tall, snapped his jaw twice and buzzed. He pointed at Tua and I with a shrug.
From behind her mask Ezra said smugly, “He says we have much work to do if we are to make these soft-shells into warriors.”
“Well, if anyone can do it, you can, Rhyparus,” Roark laughed and pounded his fist against the monster’s chest. “You taught me, and I was far more hopeless than these lads.”
Rhyparus seemed to enjoy the flattery.
After a few snaps and clicks of the tongue Ezra and the Swarmborne began marching deeper into the city. Roark stayed beside Tua and I.
Tua spotted my clenched jaw.
“Oy, you won’t fight?” Tua asked once the Swarmborne were out of ear shot. He sounded surprised.
“You know I’ll fight,” I snarled. “I’m just not sure who I’ll be fighting,” I gave Roark a stern glare, he did not flinch. “You would join arms with bugs and kidnappers so easily?”
Tua watched a Hornet climbing towards the ceiling on nearly invisible wings. “I’ll fight,” Tua said sharply. “My sister and I survived off rotting fish and dried up seaweed while the Bitten Knights rolled around in piles of gold shells in their Nest. The Knights never once came to the Shallows, no one ever helped us.
“Our parents starved to death so my sister and I could survive. We’ve had to claw and fight for every scrap. Dazawrath has taken everything from my family… it’s time we took something back.” Tua clenched his fist and a bubbling heat rolled off his flesh. Vulkan growled deeply.
“The Verdour have seen your suffering, Tua,” Roark said as he clapped the huge islander on the back. “That is why they have awarded you with Vulkan’s companionship. You will find peace beneath the wings of the Verdour, they welcome all.”
“When does training start?” Tua asked, “Today, if you’re ready.”
“Oy, we’re ready,” Tua nodded and he looked to Vulkan.
Roark nudged me with his elbow. “Take the next few days to think about what you and Hyperion want. I understand that you must do what is best for you two, and it's unfair to have you bear the burden of this war… but the Verdour have chosen you for a reason, Ryker. They believe you can lead us to victory. Remember that,” he gave me a gentle smile with his scarred lips, his colorless eye watching my reaction carefully.
I said nothing. Leaving behind Roark and Tua, I adventured deeper into the market, hoping trinkets and the smell of smoked meats would take my mind off things.
After nearly an hour of mindlessly wandering about, I decided I would try and find the postmaster’s hut and write to my family. A plump man with copper hair pointed me in the right direction.I found a small round hut near the northern end of the Hive. A young girl with bronze skin, a necklace woven through tiny white shells, and a petite frame sat hunched over a basket of parchment.
“Leanne? That you?” I paused. The girl shifted and looked up. Round hazel eyes scanned me for a moment and she pulled coal-black hair out of her face.
“Oy, Ryker!” Leanne said with a surprised grin, she sprung to her feet. Leanne threw her arms around my waist in a tight hug, her head barely reaching my chest.
I patted her back stiffly, a little surprised by her embrace. The other girls beneath the canopy all stopped what they were working on and watched us suspiciously, thin smiles sneaking across their lips. I felt my face warm.
I only recognized one other girl, Andrea. She fought hard on the ship. Andrea had proven herself to be resilient, a survivor. Her sandy blonde hair twisted into a short braid and her sapphire eyes looked over me cautiously. Her skin was far lighter than that of Leanne’s, but still bronzed from her time on the islands of Cy’ann.
I cleared my throat and peeled myself away. “It’s good to see you,” I said to Leanne, at- tempting to sound indifferent.
“Oy, this is him!” she announced, turning back to face the girls in the hut, “This is the one that tried to free us on the ship.” The other ladies all exchanged meaningful glances and I thought I heard a few stifled giggles. “You remember Andrea, right?” Leanne asked.
“Of course,” I nodded slightly. Andrea grinned at me for a moment, then returned to shuffling through the parchment in her hands.
Leanne’s eyes doubled in size as she spotted Hyperion upon my shoulder. Leanne shuffled back a step. She stared up at the bright dragon.
“Aye, I forgot you two haven’t been properly introduced. This is Hyperion,” Hyperion nodded, and Leanne smiled joyfully at her. “You been alright?”
“Oy, ya. I’ve been fine,” she bobbed her head up and down quickly. “They’ve been fair to us, the Verdourin. The Swarmborne, too,” her eyes dashed from one side of the camp to the other, as if to make sure no one was listening.
“What’s wrong?” I followed her eye line and saw no one, but I still whispered the question.
“Nothing,” It came off more as a question than a statement. “And, that’s the problem,” she whispered now as well. I noticed the girls behind us had returned to stacking and sorting scrolls, but quietly, so they could still eavesdrop. “They are treating us like royal guests. I’ve
been warm, fed, and cared for since they brought us here. It feels like they are trying to make us forget that they kidnapped us,” she said with an edge in her voice. “And honestly-” she paused for a breath.
“It’s working,” I finished her thought. She nodded somberly, as if agreeing made her guilty of some fowl crime. “I know. Tua is ready to go to war with them.”
“And you?”
Staring up at the ceiling of the Hive I admitted, “I don’t know what to think.”
“Oy, me either. They killed people to bring us here. Broke your leg. Chained us in the brig and shipped us off like swine. Not usually the sort you want to spend your time with.”
“Finally, someone with some sense around here,” I realized this wasn’t the same terrified girl I had met beneath the ship. I studied her carefully for a moment, a golden ring set with a pearl on her finger, the excellent craftsmanship of the shell choker around her neck, the articulate way she spoke.
She wasn’t from the Shallow’s like Tua, I realized.
“Will you leave?” I asked.
“And go where?” she scoffed. “The tides of Cy’ann are clear on the opposite side of Dazawrath. I’d never make it on my own.”
“Will you go with them when they march on the Nest?”
“Oy,” she shrugged, “I won’t stay in the Hive on my own either, what choice do I have?” Her voice wavered slightly. “I want to go home, Ryker. I want to be with my family.” Tears began to form at the corners of her eyes. They were not tears of sadness, or even fear, but of anger.
Poor child, Hyperion sang sweetly in my mind. I watched Leanne for a long moment.
“Listen,” I placed a hand on her narrow shoulder. “I promised you on the ship I’d watch over you. I intend to keep my word,” my announcement caused a buzz of interest from the nosey girls behind Leanne. I ignored their giggling and remembered to whisper again. “Maybe we could travel with the caravan to Volcaro. It would be safer than the two of us-” Hyperion hummed in my mind, “right, the three of us, trying to cross Dazawrath on our own. And that way we wouldn’t be checkin’ over our shoulder every step looking for Scarabs chasing us down. Once we reach Volcaro’s borders we could make a break for it. Maybe even warn the Capital of what’s coming.”
A hopeful smirk tightened in Leanne’s lips. “You would leave too?”
“I want to get back to my family as well, Leanne,” I nodded. “With Hyperion’s help, no one could stop us. Especially not Roark.”
Leanne’s smirk shifted into a full smile. “Oy, I’m in. We will have to play along with Roark’s games though.”
“I know. I’ve never been much of a liar, but I’ll try my best.”
Leanne held out her hand. I took it and we shook briefly. Her skin felt warm and soft against my own.
Can we trust her? Hyperion hummed inquisitively.
Aye, I think we can...
“How’d you know I was here anyways?” Leanne asked after I released my grip around her tiny hand.
“I didn’t,” I ran my fingers through my hair, “I just needed to send a letter. Do you have any hawks?”
“Messenger hawks?”
“This is the postmaster’s hut, isn’t it?”
“Oy, there’s not many hawks. Roark prefers to use Catalpa. He says they are faster and more intelligent than hawks.”
I had seen only a handful of Catalpa throughout the White Hive since my arrival. Or at least Catalpa is what we humans call them. They aren’t armored like the rest of the Swarmborne. They resembled hawk moths, and their thorax are covered in a dense brown fuzz. They stood far shorter than the Scarabs or Hornets. Built like arrow heads, the Catalpa are unmatched in speed and control in the sky, but they have little to offer in the means of combat. Their short arms were too frail to pull back a bow or swing a blade, but their narrow wings and smaller bodies allow them to cut through the air nearly unseen. Their eyes sat upon their rounded heads like two giant crystal balls, unblinking and reflecting the light of their environment. The few I had seen always wore a messenger’s satchel tied snuggly around their thorax’s.
“Well, I don’t think my father would take kindly to a Catalpa buzzing down on his front door. I’d prefer a hawk.”
“Oy, I understand. You may have to wait for one to return. And Roark will need to read your message before you send it off.”
“What for?”
“Apparently, he reads anything that comes and goes from the Hive. Roark hasn’t kept his army a secret this long simply by chance. Anything referencing our location or hinting at any of his plans would never make it out of the Hive. I wrote a letter to my parents, just to let them know I was alive, and Roark denied it because I mentioned how ‘miserably cold the west is’,” she gestured for me to follow her back towards the hut. The other workers looked down swiftly and pretended to be sorting through parchment.
“These are the letters people here in the Hive have requested to send,” Leanne gestured at a stack of wooden cubbies lined with letters, scrolls, and worn parchment. “We sort through them and take them to Roark’s quarters. He will read through them and if he approves the message he marks it with his own seal.” She picked up a scroll from a wicker basket. The edge had been adhered to the body of the scroll in wax with the Verdourin ‘X’. If approved, we sort the letters based on destination and send them off with a Swarmborne to be delivered. Nothing leaves the White Hive without Roark’s seal.”
I nodded my understanding and scratched beneath Hyperion’s chin.
“So, don’t mention anything about where we are, the fact that you have a dragon sitting on your shoulder, or that Roark intends to topple the entire foundations of Dazawrath and you should be fine,” Leanne said with a twisted grin.
27
RYKER DAWNROSE
I had not agreed to fight in Roark’s war, but Leanne and I did decide to travel with them. As soon as we reached the borders of Volcaro, Leanne, Hyperion, and myself would sneak away.
We pushed east, step by step attempting to make our way out of the frost lands. We marched along the coast where the sea remained frozen in large, glaring plates.
Our caravan moved slowly. Rhyparus, the general of the Swarmborne army, led the legion. Thousands of Swarmborne marched beside him. Roark had convinced Rhyparus to have his soldiers walk instead of fly. When the Scarabs and Hornets took to the sky it sounded fiercer than any storm. We would be heard coming from miles away.
Vesper, the Hornet, and Rhyparus’ second in command, directed the Swarmborne and humans at the rear. Ezra and her dragon Zircon spent most of their time with Vesper at the back of the caravan. Roark and Queen Falena traveled at the center of the pack. I did not know where Amrick the High Priest and his disciples hid among the masses, and truthfully, I didn’t care as long as they stayed far away from me.
The Queen rested inside an elaborate carriage shaped like a cocoon. The wagon had been decorated in twinkling sapphires and silvers, and brandished with a painted moth spreading its wings across the cart. Two horse-sized spiders with meaty legs and white, fuzzy bodies, pulled the carriage. Three archer Hornets flew above the cart and six spear-wielding Scarabs marched beside it at all times. Only Roark had been permitted to ride beside the wagon.
Roark road a humble, chestnut colored mare. He carried himself like a servant, soft spoken and kind, but I felt in my heart he had far more influence over our party than Queen Falena.
Anytime Rhyparus, Vesper, or any other high official, came to the heart of the caravan they bowed low to the Queen, but they addressed Roark with obvious reverence.
This was Roark’s army. This was Roark’s war.
Hyperion and I were surprised by the freedom Roark gave Tua and myself. When we were not in our training, we were free to come and go as we pleased. Hyperion and I spent our time strolling quietly on the outskirts of the caravan looking for animal tracks and practicing sharing her Fury. Leanne often joined us on our walks. I’d show her how to spot a deer trail and where a hare or two might be hiding beneath the thicker brush. She would tell Hyperion and I stories of her home and the beaches of Cy’ann.
Time passed quickly when Leanne kept my company. Once when I helped her over an icy ledge, her tiny hand fell into my own. Even after we passed through the more challenging terrain her hand stayed in mine as we walked. Her tiny fingers laced between my own quite naturally. Neither of us made anything of it, but I found myself looking forward to rougher trails.
Tua preferred to march along the human soldiers, hearing their stories of how they joined the Verdourin. They would often invite me to travel or eat with them, but I had no intentions of making any bonds.
In the mornings Vesper trained us for combat. She proved to be merciless and cold, yet an extremely knowledgeable instructor. We sparred against humans and Swarmborne alike. Roark was sure to inspect our battles, but he never participated. Leanne often watched quietly from a safe distance.
When Roark’s army would stop to let the livestock drink from a stream that hadn’t been frozen over or repair a few of our wagons, Rhyparus instructed us on battle strategy. We spent the afternoons hunched over old maps of the Capital learning where the Silver Guard patrolled most heavily, where their defenses were the weakest, and where they believed they would make their final stand against Roark’s forces.
Ezra or Roark would translate the lessons from our Swarmborne instructors into common tongue, but we were quickly learning the language.
At night after we made camp Tua and I would practice controlling our Fury. We would walk off far from the group so that we didn’t endanger any onlookers. Ezra and Zircon taught our very long, very quiet lessons. Ezra spoke rarely, correcting our form or re-snatching our attention with a simple grunt from behind her mask. She seemed to loathe our time together. The feeling was mutual.
On the fifth night we camped beneath the shadow of a small mountain. The majority of Roark’s forces gathered at the base, but Tua and I camped along the ridge of the hill.
I stirred the small flame with a burnt stick, tiny embers flickered off the wood. Hyperion sat curled beside me, breathing steadily. Leanne had already gone to bed, so I joined Tua and Ezra around a fire. I noticed Roark watching over the camp off in the distance.
“He’s a fool if he thinks he can take the Nest,” I whispered. “Even with these numbers, he will never even see the Nest. Word of this force will reach the Capital far before we do. Commander Thunderforge will meet them over the Scarab’s Pass... they’ll be slaughtered before they even have a chance to lift their blades.”
Roark is quite clever, Hyperion assured me.
“Rats are clever,” I watched the flames, “they're still quite easy to kill.”
“Do you know what he carries?” Ezra asked, staring straight ahead as she rested her hand on her own dragon’s back. Even as we rested around the campfire, she kept her black mask tied to her face.
“A dusty box of Verdour fangs?” I asked. Tua and I both snickered. Tua, who had been laying across his back with Vulkan upon his belly, sat up. Like Ezra’s mask, Roark never seemed to remove that rickety old box that hung strapped to his back.
“He carries the very blade that cut down the Verdour,” the edge in her voice unwavering, almost frightened.
After a long pause, Tua and I broke out in laughter. Vulkan peeled open his fiery eyes, awoken by the commotion.
“Roark? The one-eyed-cave-dwelling-Verdourin, goes to sleep alongside the Primal Blade every night?” I sputtered.
“Oy, and I bet he’s also got the key to Commander Thunderforge’s private lou strapped to his belt,” Tua and I both bent over laughing again, he leaned his massive weight against my shoulder. Ezra remained frozen, clearly unamused.
“Go ask him,” Ezra said coldly with a shrug.
“Maybe I will,” I pushed Tua off of me. Ezra gestured her open palm towards where Roark stood. Tua pressed his water skin to his lips and watched me curiously.
“Okay, but if he gives me the Primal Blade, does that make me the supreme emperor of all of Dazawrath?” I asked as I hopped to my feet, Tua spit out the liquid he had just poured into his mouth, Hyperion sprung from the earth and scurried up my arm.
“Animals,” Ezra hissed as she dodged the mist that spewed from his lips.
