Rift Walker (Ember & Ash Book 1) Read online

  Fog settled on our small camp and stayed until morning. Even as we packed up and reformed our convoy, it clung to the low-lying and darker areas. The sun shone through the treetops and made the shadows dance in the fog.

  Among the men, there were clear signs a few had taken the drinking and revelry too far. Slow, sloppy movements, the wincing at the sound of metal striking metal or loud voices… The hangovers would wear off by mid-day, but Ash wasn’t pleased. He rode through camp on his horse, eying everyone with Zia at his side. The wheels in his head turned, making lists, noting names, faces, collecting information.

  When they came to me, he spoke a few quiet words to Zia before she nodded and moved on without him.

  “Does she ever sleep?” I asked, adjusting the strap on one of my saddlebags.

  Ash closed the distance. “When she can, like the rest of us. Not all of us can afford to get drunk and pass out on the first night of a hunt.”

  “Cut them some slack, Ash. At least no one’s fighting anymore.”

  “United by their shared mistakes.” He sighed and shook his head. “It’s comforting, at least, to know most of the drink is gone and there won’t be any repeats.”

  “There are worse things than a little drinking and singing, Ash.” I finished with the saddle, patted Scorch down, and climbed up into the saddle. “You know, you’ve been almost all work and no play since you showed back up. Makes me wonder if all that time away didn’t turn you into someone serious.”

  Ash’s frown faded gradually as we rode for the front of the line. “Maybe you’re right. It’s just that out here, even the smallest mistake can be costly. Drink makes men slow, clumsy, even a day after.”

  “We won’t be running into the dragon soon.”

  “True, but that doesn’t mean we’re safe out here.” He scanned the tree line as if searching for threats.

  “Did Zia find anything on her scouting trip last night?”

  “Signs of a raiding party about two miles out, moving parallel to our path,” Ash said, his tone grave. “I don’t think we’re being followed. We’re using an old trader’s route, but one that hasn’t been used in several years.”

  I shook my head. “Raiding parties wouldn’t take on a convoy of this size, not if they knew what was good for them. We’ve got twenty armed fighters and a handful of support folk, wagons full of weapons and supplies that’d be easier to get elsewhere. If they have scouts like most raiders, they’ve already seen us moving through the trees and decided on easier prey. Did she actually see the raiders?”

  Ash sighed. “No, just the remains of a campfire. They were smart enough to mask their scent with crushed mint leaves. She tried to count the tracks, but they’d done a good job sweeping those clean too.”

  “They’re not stupid, then. All the more reason for them to avoid our convoy.”

  “Desperation makes people take foolish risks.” Ash fixed his gaze forward, focusing on something in the distance. He was quiet until we neared the front of the line. “I spoke with Dex and Ike, encouraging them to move their hungover people toward the middle of the convoy, around the wagons. At least then we won’t have to worry about stragglers getting lost. Ike is moving to the rear today to monitor things there. I’d like you at the front with me.”

  “You sure that’s where you need me?” I glanced over at Zia.

  She sat silently in her saddle, watching me with her hawk eyes.

  “Need? Maybe not. I’m being selfish. Indulge me a little?” His serious expression finally broke, and Ash finally cracked a smile.

  I smiled back. “If you insist.”

  We joined Zia at the front. Ash gave a whistle and a shout, ordering everyone to form up into a line. After a brief wait, we set off. Riders moved two abreast, which put Zia behind Ash and me. I thought she’d protest, especially after our confrontation the day before, but she said nothing. When I looked back, she rode alone with a small gap between her and the next pair of riders. Guess I wasn’t the only one who got creepy vibes from the necromancer.

  “Where do you keep your vampires during the day, Zia?” I called back to her.

  “They’re in the wagon, sleeping,” she replied. “Vampires and sunlight don’t get along.”

  “Is it true they’ll catch fire in the sun?”

  She laughed. “Absolutely not. No, the vampire pathogen causes them to lose most of the melanin in their bodies, leaving them susceptible to UV rays. They don’t see well in bright light and get easily sunburnt. Exposed to enough sunlight, they’ll develop skin cancer and have to be put down. Considering the expense of collaring and caring for a vampire, that’s something most of us would rather avoid.”

  “They’re really quite harmless,” Ash assured me. “They even snore when they’re asleep like children. I dare say they’re almost cute in the right circumstances.”

  I gave a small snort. “Now that’s a stretch.”

  “It’s all right, Ash. I wouldn’t expect a jock like Ember to understand the delicacies of magic. We’d be better off discussing it with the dual mage.” Zia sat up straighter in her saddle.

  I raised gave her a doubtful look. “A jock? Might be the first time anyone’s called me that.”

  Zia shrugged. “You strike me as mostly brawn.”

  “Ember’s got plenty of brain to back it up,” Ash said.

  “Oh, I don’t doubt it. But in a battle, there are really only two types of fighters. You have your brawny fighters, the ones who’d rather hack and slash their way through a problem, and then you have the brains who know better. Brains survive longer.” She smiled to herself.

  “Not if they keep insulting the brawn,” I pointed out.

  Her smile faded, curling into a scowl.

  “I think people are more complex than that,” Ash said. “To wield a sword takes a certain level of intelligence. You have to be able to predict your opponent’s next move, anticipate attacks that could come from any angle. You need to understand complex angles of attack, calculate appropriate force, speed, and depth. It’s the same with magic, really. Many people seem to think it’s effortless to conjure a flame or a little rain, but even doing that requires a basic understanding of how the world works. You need some education in physics, the elements, and your own limits. Boiling people down to either is an oversimplification, Zia.”

  “I know that,” she snapped back. “Of all people, I should know. People look at me and they see a necromancer, an Institute soldier.”

  “That’s because you are both things,” I said.

  “I’m more than the sum of my parts, just as you are,” Zia replied. “In fact—”

  Ash pulled his horse to a sudden stop and held up a fist, cutting Zia off with the command for silence. Behind us, the convoy slowly came to a halt. Wagon wheels creaked and horses stamped their hooves at the ground, irritated at the sudden stop.

  Scorch shifted under me and shook her mane. I patted her neck and turned to Ash. “What is it?”

  “Do you hear that?” Ash whispered.

  I listened and heard nothing but the sounds of our convoy. The forest had gone completely quiet, which was always a bad sign.

  A sharp stabbing pain suddenly struck my stomach, right where the crystal scar was. I winced and grabbed instinctively at the injury, drawing a concerned look from Zia.

  Something flew out of the woods and struck the man on horseback behind me. I twisted in the saddle only to realize it was a hatchet and it had embedded itself in the side of the man’s head. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he slid off the horse.

  Ash drew his sword. “We’re under attack!”

  A battle cry went up from the forest on either side of our convoy and people appeared from behind every bush and tree. There must’ve been thirty or forty men and women dressed in torn clothing. Some charged the convoy wearing old gas masks as helmets. Others ran in wearing little more than loin cloths and battle scars. Wielding axes, swords, and clubs, they rushed in and grabbed several of our people, pu
lling them down from their horses and beating or stabbing them. Huge four-legged creatures with fangs and patchy fur leapt out with them, snapping their jaws at the horses and sending them into a panic. Wargs.

  I drew my sword as a flaming lance of magic narrowly missed my head and broke formation to charge the nearest invader. With a swift downward stroke, I cut into his shoulder, a fatal blow. He barely seemed to notice, grabbing my leg and gnashing his rotten teeth at me.

  No, not rotten, I realized. Those weren’t teeth at all, but a mouthful of jagged crystals, just like the ones growing in my stomach. They were everywhere on him, growing out of his cheeks, the top of his head, the joints of his arms.

  A shock of magic traveled from him and into my leg where he’d grabbed me. The surrounding air made a loud popping sound. Scorch reared and dumped me to the ground. The impact knocked all the air out of me and left me stunned. A moment later, the infected man dropped to the ground beside me, finally having bled out from his wound.

  I pushed myself up, sword in hand, ready to fight the next one.

  The forest was chaos. Horses without riders trotted in circles off the path. Our people clashed with the invaders, all of whom had strange crystals growing under their skin. Fire magic spun out of control, striking the trees and setting everything ablaze.

  Ash rode by the infected man who’d tossed the fire spell and took the raider’s head from his shoulders with one decisive strike. “Heretics!” Ash shouted. “Protect the wagons!”

  The nearest wagon had pulled off to one side, the driver picking off infected invaders from his seat with a crossbow. Three heretics rushed to him. I ran for the wagon, even knowing I’d never make it in time. It was too far, and the magicite scar in my stomach was on fire. I tried not to let it slow me down, but the pain was brutal.

  The heretics reached the wagon and grabbed the driver. A massive steel hammer smashed into the back of one of the heretic’s head. Runes carved into the hammer lit up a brilliant crimson and the heretic’s head exploded. The body teetered for a moment before falling over. Two other heretics who’d been harassing the driver looked over as Foggy pulled the hammer back. The same crimson light from the hammer flowed out of his eyes and from the tattoos on his body, reaching into the air around him as an extension of their bodies. Foggy let out a bestial roar. The two heretics dropped their weapons and fled into the forest. Satisfied, Foggy turned and swung his hammer, striking another heretic in the chest.

  I reached the driver and stopped, ready to defend him. “Are you okay?”

  The driver blinked, reloaded his crossbow. “Think so.”

  “I’ve got this one covered, lass,” Foggy said. “Go to the others.”

  I shuddered under the dwarf’s glowing gaze, oddly glad to get away from him. I was pretty sure he could handle himself.

  I hurried to the second wagon back and found Zia slashing at several heretics from the back of the wagon with a pair of curved knives. Another heretic climbed up onto the wagon behind her, unnoticed. I rushed around the other side and jammed my sword into his calf just as he raised a sword over Zia’s head. The heretic grunted, grimaced, and brought the sword down. The sound he made as I stabbed him was just enough warning to let Zia tumble out of the way. She came up and sliced open the heretic’s face.

  I pulled my sword free and carved at the back of the heretic’s legs, severing tendons. He tumbled to the ground. “You okay?” I asked Zia, climbing up the rest of the way.

  She let out a breath and nodded once. “My vampires are inside.”

  “Should you let them out?”

  She shook her head. “Too much blood. Too risky. I just need to make sure no one else does.”

  “I’ve got this.” Dex climbed up onto the wagon with us, tugging on a pair of white gloves. The one on his right hand bore a red triangle, and the left a blue diamond. He snapped the fingers on his left hand and drew in the air with his finger. A wall of blue ice sprang up around the wagon, growing higher with every second.

  I hopped down from the wagon’s roof before the ice sealed me in and turned my attention to the last wagon. The bulk of the remaining heretic invaders had gathered around it. Only Ike had made it to the third wagon’s defense. The driver was missing, probably dead, and Ike was surrounded. Not only that, but Ike looked to be unarmed. His sword lay on the ground with the heretics blocking his path to it. One warg charged at him, fangs first.

  Ike caught the creature by the jaws, straining to hold its mouth open while claws raked at his armor. The gathered heretics watched, gripping their weapons, but not intervening. The beast trembled and gained ground. It looked like Ike was about to be warg food until there was a sudden crack. The warg’s bottom jaw fell limply out of Ike’s hand and the creature reared back. Ike tugged a blacksmithing hammer from his belt and struck the monster’s skull, crushing it.

  One heretic, armed with a sling, spun it and cast a large stone at Ike. It struck Ike in the side of the head, and he stumbled.

  I let out a battle cry and charged the group. Magic buzzed by my face an instant before I buried my blade in one heretic’s chest. I kicked another away and yanked the blade free, slashing a third from shoulder to hip. The blade bounced off of metal armor, leaving the heretic untouched, but providing an opening for me. I slid into the circle to stand with Ike and his hammer.

  “Buy me thirty seconds,” Ike said and bent to pick up the rock that’d been flung at him.

  I slashed at the closest heretic, but found only air as he dodged. A snarl made me turn my head just in time to see another warg charging. I lifted my arm to keep it from biting my head. Fangs sank deep into the meat of my forearm. I let out a pained cry and slashed at the creature’s neck, but I didn’t cut deep enough into the muscle to kill it. It was enough to get the warg to release me, though. A club struck the back of my leg and I fought not to go down, spinning and swinging the sword at my new attacker.

  “Hurry, Ike!” I glanced over to see him stacking more rocks upon rocks, carefully arranging them. “Now’s not the time to play with your stones!”

  “Almost ready. Just a few more seconds.”

  “This had better be worth it,” I ground out from between clenched teeth and swung the sword at the warg, keeping it back. My arm screamed in pain. Blood dripped from the hole the warg had ripped in me.

  There was a sudden ting sound beside me. I twisted my head for a quick look at what Ike was up to and watched him strike the pile of stones again with the hammer. A blinding blue light rose from the rock pile. I had to shield my eyes from it. The warg snarled and retreated to the safety of the shadows. All the heretics took a half step back.

  Beside me, the sound of rocks cracking, crumbling and falling atop one another drowned out all the other noise of battle. It sounded like I was standing next to a rockslide.

  When the noise stopped and the light dimmed, Ike and I were no longer alone in our defense of the wagon. A ten-foot-tall golem of stone stood next to us. The golem swung out with both arms, knocking three of the heretics back at once. They retreated as the golem took two steps toward them. Arrows and magic flew at Ike’s golem, but they might as well have been paper for all the damage they did. The golem stomped forward, reaching for the nearest heretic. He tried to run, but he wasn’t fast enough to escape the golem’s grip. The golem picked him up and squeezed him in a fist, crushing the heretic’s ribcage before discarding him like a broken doll.

  I let out a shaky breath and gave Ike a worried glance. “How well can you control that thing?”

  Before he could answer, the team of horses yoked the wagon behind us let out a loud cry. The wagon jerked forward. We spun around to find three heretics had climbed up on to the wagon while we were distracted with the golem. The wagon lunged forward and took off through the rough terrain.

  Zia let out a shout as a warg charged at her, knocking her off the top of the wagon she was defending. Two heretics grabbed her and held her limp body. Blood dripped from a head wound. She must’ve h
it her head when she fell.

  I tried to get to her, but the heretics tossed her up on the wagon and sped off.

  With a victory shout, the last of the heretics let up their attack and fled into the woods after the wagon. Their remaining wargs howled and raced to follow.

  Chapter Ten

  The wagon containing vampires trembled. Inside, the vampires snarled and hissed, scratching at the doors to get out. With their mistress unconscious and gone, they would be little more than mindless killing machines.

  “We have to go after her!” I searched for Scorch, but she was back toward the front of the procession. I took a step forward and staggered under the renewed ache in my stomach and the flash of burning pain in my forearm.

  Ike kept me from falling. “You’re not going anywhere until you’ve seen a healer.” He nodded to my bleeding arm.

  Ash rode up, still on horseback. “What happened?”

  Before answering, Ike lifted his hammer and struck the golem on the back. It collapsed loudly. Now that the magic was gone, it was only a pile of rocks. He tucked the hammer back into his belt. “They took the wagon and the necromancer.”

  Dex slid off the middle wagon. His ice shield had melted into a puddle, turning the ground around the wagon to mud. “We won’t catch them on foot, and we don’t know what we’re going into.”

  “We can track them back to their camp.” I pointed to the trail of broken branches and disturbed forest floor the wagon and the army had left in its wake.

  “There’s no need.” Ash dismounted and walked several paces toward the middle wagon, where he found one of the injured heretics lying on the ground. The heretic was bleeding from a large gash in his arm, but the injury was unlikely to be fatal. Ash yanked the heretic up by the scrap of netted shirt he wore. “Where is your camp?”

  The heretic grinned, showing a mouthful of blue and red crystals instead of teeth. More of them protruded from his neck, his elbows, and the backs of his hands.

  I restrained a shudder at the sight of him and instinctually put a hand over the aching crystal scar on my stomach. Left unchecked, my infection would grow out of control. Even with the antigen, it was still growing, albeit slowly. Is that what would become of me? Would I one day have magicite bursting through my skin? I couldn’t imagine the pain he might’ve been in, though the heretic didn’t seem to show it.