Rise of Legends (The Kin of Kings Book 2) (20 page)

When she got there, it looked as if she was suddenly standing on the other side of a window with bent glass, her head and body twisting as she turned to face him. She mouthed something, but Cleve heard nothing. Then she took a step toward him and disappeared.

Cleve hurried to go through the portal in fear it might disappear. He felt sick to his stomach the moment he ran beneath the glow, but the dizziness wasn’t enough to take him off his feet. He turned around to find Jackrie on her knees, heaving as if she was going to vomit. He felt as if he might retch, too. This transition was far worse than the previous one, making it similar to crossing through Basen’s portal.

“I think our bodies are trying to tell us they don’t like going through portals,” Jackrie observed.

His stomach finally calming, Cleve ventured out of the alcove and was relieved to find the familiar twisted path leading back to the rest of their party. He returned to the alcove and investigated the ceiling to find the glow faint once again. This may be a route they could take once the portal was ready, but he figured it would be prudent to first venture down the dark pathway that they’d avoided previously.

Jackrie still seemed to be feeling sick. She had one hand on the rocky wall and the other on her stomach. “Just give me a little more time.”

A beastly roar reverberated through the alcove. The ground began to shake. Cleve’s fear had become reality. He acted quickly—pulling Jackrie by her arm toward the sound.

“What are you doing?” she asked frantically, though trusting him enough not to resist.

“We can’t be trapped in here.”

She kept up as he ran out of the alcove. He sensed something massive standing in the passageway behind him as they crossed into the cave lit by lava streams. Adrenaline had taken over by then, dissolving any sense of fear or surprise as he glanced behind him to find a dajrik roaring at their presence.

Standing twenty feet tall, the creature had to lower its hulking head to keep it from slamming into the icicle-shaped rocks as it started lumbering toward them. It was the shape of a man, though its skin looked to be made of stone. However, Cleve knew better. Arrows could penetrate the hard flesh.

They ran. He needed a moment to shoot, but the beast stayed close on their tail. Cleve felt wind against his back as the giant swatted his hand at them and barely missed.

The massive creature was too fast, quickly catching up again. Fortunately, one of its horns got caught against the jagged ceiling, bringing it to a dead stop. It growled as it plowed forward, ripping part of the stone roof down with it.

Cleve took one last moment to verify that this dajrik wore no necklace. It wasn’t the same dajrik guarding the Slugari, which had been friendly with humans. No, this one chased them as if it hadn’t eaten for days and they were its next meal.

Jackrie was not as fast as he was, and the beast quickly caught up to her. Cleve drew an arrow and shot the dajrik in the palm of its reaching hand. The giant roared as it recoiled, then ripped out the arrow as if it were merely a splinter.

They made it out of the cave and back to the cavern, but with the lake of lava at its other end, there was little room left to run. Basen, Alabell, and Annah shrunk backward at the sight of the enraged giant.

Basen cursed loudly as he drew his wand. He ran forward while the two women seemed frozen by fear.

Jackrie had again fallen behind, so Cleve drew another arrow. He aimed at the beast’s head this time and landed a shot in its cheek. It slowed the dajrik for a moment, the giant uttering a deep cry as it ripped the arrow out along with a thin stream of blood.

A fireball flew over Cleve’s head and struck the dajrik; it would’ve struck the beast in the chest, but the dajrik had lifted its arm to protect itself. It stumbled backward, then dropped its arms, lowered its head, and let out a furious roar. Cleve aimed for its mouth, but the dajrik ducked as Cleve shot, avoiding both the arrow and another fireball, this one from Jackrie’s wand.

It tried to stomp on Jackrie, and she dove out of the way. But the dajrik’s foot shook the ground enough for her and Cleve to lose purchase. The beast scooped up Jackrie as if she were a squirming caterpillar. Cleve jumped up and dropped his bow to grab his sword instead, for another arrow would not be enough to make the dajrik let go of Jackrie. Just as the giant began to close its fingers around her, clearly intending to squeeze her to death, Cleve buried his weapon deep in the giant’s thumb.

It cried out as it dropped Jackrie, then tried to swat Cleve with its other hand. But Cleve fell flat to the ground to avoid it. He saw a flash of light as he jumped back up. Knowing it was Basen’s fireball striking the giant, Cleve accurately assumed the beast would be taken back by the force. He ran to catch up with the stumbling monster and hacked at its shin.

Cleve strained his neck to watch the dajrik’s arms, waiting for the inevitable attack. It came as a fist punching the ground. Cleve hopped to the side to avoid it, then ran his weapon along the side of its hand as he dashed between its legs.

Another fireball hit—light, heat, and then smoke. Cleve chopped at the dajrik’s ankle, but he only got two good swings in before the beast stepped away to go after Basen and Jackrie.

Winded from their spells and slowed by their injuries from the previous battle, Jackrie and Basen ran away at the speed of a jog. Fortunately, the beast was slowed as well from the damage Cleve and them had done, blood pouring from its limbs and hands. Cleve quickly caught up and leapt to drive his sword deep into the dajrik’s leg. It fell to its knees, its chest and palms crashing down soon after and shaking the stone ground.

Cleve yanked out his weapon and climbed onto the creature’s back as it started to rise. He ran up its sloping spine, then jumped onto its shoulder just as the dajrik got all the way back upright. It tried to grab Cleve, but he batted away its hand with his sword, then drove his blade through its neck.

The creature’s cries finally ceased, interrupted by wheezing as it came down to its knees again. It still grabbed at Cleve, but he jumped from its shoulder to its legs extended behind it, then hopped off to the ground. He watched as the last moments of life faded from the collapsing giant. Then he retrieved his sword.

“Impressive, Cleve.” Basen slid his wand back into its holder on the side of his belt. “So this must be a dajrik. It looks like you’ve slain one before.”

Cleve had, though he blocked his mind from recalling the battle.

“How are you, Annah?” he asked. The psychic had cowered away from battle.

“Somewhat better. I think I can walk now.”

“What took so long?” Basen asked Cleve and Jackrie. “We slept for a while waiting for the both of you.”

Cleve let Jackrie explain the portal in the alcove and what they'd seen after.

“Wherever we are,” Basen said, “it seems big. It could be days before we get out.” He lifted his chin at the dead giant. “And we might run into more of them.”

Alabell took a step toward it cautiously, as if the beast might rise again at any moment. “I thought all the dajriks were dead except for the one with the Slugari.” She sounded worried, like they might’ve killed an ally.

“This one had no necklace,” Cleve informed her. “It’s not the same dajrik.”

Basen asked Alabell, “What do you make of the portal?”

She let out a long breath. “I don’t really know. It seemed to work for Cleve and Jackrie when they passed through it, with no spell required. Maybe you did something when you opened that portal in the Fjallejon Mountains, and these other portals are temporary. It sounds like they don’t lead very far.”

Cleve agreed with a nod. “It did seem as if we were still within the same mountain.”

Jackrie approached the dead dajrik. “That’s enough speculation for now. Cleve, cut off one of those massive legs up at the thigh.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s wasted food if we don’t eat it.”

Cleve felt a pang of disgust at the thought.

Alabell groaned loudly, then looked surprised as everyone stared at her. “Sorry. Jackrie, how do you know we can even eat it?”

Jackrie jabbed the sinewy flesh of the dajrik’s leg. “Every animal can be eaten so long as it’s not poisonous, and I doubt this giant is. I’m not saying we’re going to like it, but Cleve and I found no other signs of food and we could be stuck in this place for a while.”

“How are we going to cook it?” Basen didn’t seem to like the idea much either by the look of his face. “We have nothing to burn for a fire. It’s all rock around us.”

“Right there.” Jackrie gestured at the undulating, orange sea. “We’ll set the leg over the lava and hold one half down while the other cooks. Go on, Cleve. Start cutting.”

He tested the meat with a firm squeeze. The stone-like appearance of the dajrik’s skin made it appear harder than it really was, but he still couldn’t wrap his mind around the thought of biting into it.

“Basen, lend me your sword.”

He drew it and took a step, but then hesitated. “Why mine?”

“Because I don’t want to risk ruining mine.”

Basen looked as if he was about to object but then nodded reluctantly. “I suppose there’s only one other weapon as valuable as yours, isn’t there?” He lent Cleve his sword. “Abith Max was already dangerous before he got his hands on bastial steel. Do you think you can beat him if we face him again, Cleve?”

“I can.” He started hacking at the leg. Blood splattered out with every slash, drenching his clothes immediately. He tried to ignore it as he continued.

“Someone else has a bastial steel sword,” Alabell called out over the sickening sound. Cleve stopped and gawked at her.

“Who?”

“Tauwin himself. He killed my great-uncle with one. So others in his army might have more.”

Cleve cursed inwardly.
One of the Takarys in Greenedge must be supporting Tauwin. Could it be Raymess?
Cleve thought of everything he’d done for the young king, then used his anger as he slashed wildly at the leg.

There must be other Takarys with bastial steel weapons.
Someone else must be supporting Tauwin besides Raymess, but who else could be greedy and cruel enough? And more importantly, who could be rich enough? I’ll have to speak with Steffen.

Cleve went on and on, sweat dripping from his skin where he wasn’t already wet with dajrik blood. He realized everyone was watching him with confused and concerned looks. Still enraged, he tossed Basen’s bloody sword to the ground.

“I can’t cut through its bone. It’s like trying to hack down a damn tree.”

“It’s all right, Cleve,” Jackrie soothed. “We’ll find a way to cook the meat without severing the leg.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

When Sanya had created her other identity, she had to be strategic. “Tauwin’s woman” was different in many aspects, for the real Sanya couldn’t have stolen his heart even with psyche. But there was one identical attribute to both versions of herself: She couldn’t stand to stay inside for more than a day. Even within Kyrro’s enormous castle with fifty things happening at once, none of them interested her enough to compensate for the stifling walls and vigilant guards who often followed her.

She’d been a fool to believe Tauwin when he’d claimed he could take over Kyrro in one day. Now he’d started a war.
It could be weeks before Trentyre and the Academy were taken, neither of which Sanya wanted to help him with because she couldn’t imagine killing anyone else undeserving of death. So she had to busy herself with other tasks as she waited to be queen, something that would take her out of the castle. Luckily, she knew just the thing. But the chance had not come yet.

The morning after her arrival, Tauwin had snuck into her room before she’d awoken and invited himself beneath her sheets. She’d awakened to him stroking her hair.

“I’ve missed you.”

She was thankful for her training. Without it, she would’ve made a face of horror. It wasn’t the nineteen-year-old king’s looks that turned her stomach, for he wasn’t unattractive, and there were no scars on his arm from Alabell’s fireball. It was what she found in his heart. Malice, greed, and little else.

Sanya knew herself well enough to realize that she was closer to the abhorrent end of the line of morality than the good end, but that was because she couldn’t feel things others did. Love and guilt were just words to her—her father’s doing, with all his experiments and forced exercises. At least she had an excuse, unlike Tauwin.

Nothing had made him become an impatient man who believed the world existed for his own pleasure. That was just his nature, and she doubted he’d ever cared to change it.

If he wanted Kyrro, it would be his no matter the cost, no matter how many died. At least Sanya knew only to kill those she must.

Tauwin had more power and wealth than any single man should have. Even worse, he was receiving help from a Takary overseas. As if he needed any more men in this lopsided war.

She’d forced herself to kiss him and smile. “I’ve missed you, too.”

He hurried to take off his shirt. “Good.”

She laughed as he climbed on top of her. “You know I must wait until we’re married.” She gently pushed him off as he frowned, kissing his cheek.