In Harmony We Trust - Ryan Matthew Harker (most popular novels of all time txt) 📗

the armory.”
“Yes sir!” the aid bowed low while he walked, a remarkable display of skill, and hurried in another direction towards the infirmary.


The air of the city was hot and stole the breath from Candlelite’s lungs as he ran. It was heavy with the acrid tang of smoke and hashed his throat until it made him cough. Pausing in his flight down an alleyway Candlelite leaned a hand against a hot brick wall to catch his breath and fight down the rising urge to lose his breakfast. The horror of battle had sparked his bestial nature while he had viewed it from the distant heights of the palace but witnessing the chaos firsthand had damped the flames and chilled his soul. For the first time since he had been bitten Candlelite found himself longing for night and the transformation that it would bring. He found himself wishing he could lose himself in the ferocity of instincts that would sweep away these frail human emotions with the power of an ocean’s current.
The queen had sent the aid to the armory with a message to Jeshux that the king was living his last moments and she could not leave his side. Jeshux had understood and resent the aid to relay his understanding. Once they were fully armed and armored Candlelite, with Absinthe at his side, had followed Jeshux, along with Sefu, when Pwami had teleported them to the barracks.
And the barracks were in turmoil. Soldiers ran this way and that, barely slowing to acknowledge their new regent with a quick salute before they hurried about their business. Jeshux managed to get a young sergeant to slow down long enough to point out the location of McAriicoys and the mercenaries before he was off again. Jeshux let him go and led the way through the throng once more. McAriicoys proved to be right where the sergeant had indicated, but the reunion only lasted long enough for Jeshux to assume command and lead his men into the streets to participate in the anarchy.
It was in the streets that Candlelite became separated from his companions. Now, alone in the alley he shouldered his plasma rifle and spun on heel as he heard something crash behind him.
“Who goes there?” Candlelite called out sounding a little cliché. His sharp eyes searched the cluttered alley but he saw nothing. All he could hear was the labored sound of his own breathing overlaid with the chatter of machine gun fire and the vvvwhumph of plasma rifles. He quested through the air with his nose but all he could smell was the overpowering aroma of smoke mixed with the pungent odor of his own fear laden sweat.
Another small clatter and Candlelite swung his rifle to the right to cover the area from where the new sound had come but still he saw nothing. A breeze picked up from behind him and suddenly Candlelite caught a whiff of animal musk. He spun around and his eyes widened in horror as he spotted the hulking form of a werewolf bearing down on him. Although he knew it was too late Candlelite raised his rifle and managed to squeeze off a shot. He saw the fur of the slobbering creature’s right shoulder disappear in a puff of hot plasma before the werewolf slammed into him.
Candlelite hit the ground and lost his rifle as the air was crushed out of him from the beast’s weight on his chest. He felt the searing heat of the creature’s breath in his face and tasted the saliva that dripped off of the werewolf’s fangs as it lowered its jaws to devour his face.
“No!” Candlelite wheezed with the last of his air as he closed his eyes and waited for the worst. But the worst never came and Candlelite slowly opened his eyes. He winced at the sight of the black muzzle that hovered over his face with its hooked fangs and twitching whiskers. The werewolf looked down at its captive with curiosity in its eyes and its stare was soon joined by that of its hunting companion who had come from the other end of the alley to stand and look quizzically at the cringing man.
Candlelite’s bladder almost let go when the other werewolf appeared above him but a slight orange glow near his chest forced his eyes away from the killers above him. As he looked down he remembered the amber wolf that he wore in the pouch around his neck and the magic Nefarious had claimed resided within it. He looked back to the beasts who still regarded him curiously. Candlelite drew a shallow breath into his cramped lungs and croaked, “Gedoffme.” Amazingly the large beast complied; it stepped off of Candlelite’s chest and sat back on its haunches. The second werewolf also took a step back and sat down.
Candlelite sat up slowly and looked around for his rifle. He spotted it off to his right, slowly stood up and walked over to it. He picked it up and turned to regard the savage hunters that sat before him, regarding him calmly and seemingly unperturbed by the sounds of fighting in the streets.
An idea slowly formed in Candlelite’s mind. “Stand up,” he commanded the werewolves and they moved to obey, rising from their haunches to all fours and then to their hind legs. Having been subjected to the reality of magic for so long Candlelite easily placed his trust in the power of the amber wolf. His fear of the animals evaporated.
“You,” he said and pointed to the second werewolf. “Go get more of your kind and bring them back to me.” The werewolf immediately dropped to all fours and loped off. “And you’re going to come with me to find Absinthe and the others,” Candlelite told the werewolf that had landed on him. The creature also dropped to all fours.
Candlelite shouldered his rifle and looked at the slight burn on the werewolf’s shoulder. He assured himself that the wound was superficial before he turned and trotted in the direction he was headed before he had been ambushed. The sword at his side slapped gently against his trouser leg and made a soft tat-tat-tat noise as he jogged. He reached the end of the alley, stopped and put his back to the wall.
Candlelite glanced at the werewolf, smiled a wolfish grin and poked his head around the corner. “Looks clear,” he told the werewolf and tightened his grip on his rifle. “Let’s get a move on.”
Steeling himself Candlelite burst from the alley and, followed closely by the werewolf, began to jog down the street. All of the homes and businesses were shut up tight and everything looked deserted but Candlelite knew better, his wolf senses detected movement in the buildings as fearful citizens eyed him warily from their windows.
The chatter of a machine gun burst from behind him and Candlelite heard the whine of bullets as they kicked up dust next to him. Veering away from the bullets he dove behind a set of stairs as more gunfire sought to pierce his flesh. Coming into position fast Candlelite steadied his rifle against a riser and vvvwhumphed a couple blasts of plasma at his enemy before dropping back behind the stairs.
Candlelite had got a quick count of his attackers, there were five of them and they were dressed in Harmony’s colors. Bullets ricocheted all around him, chips of concrete cascaded down on him. He was pinned down but still managed to get off a couple shots before the machine gun fire concentrated on him, raining a deadly barrage of hot lead that made it impossible for him to move.
Candlelite looked at the werewolf crouched down next to him and asked, “Well, are you just going to sit there or are you going to help me?”
Steel strong muscles uncoiled like compressed springs and the humanoid beast sprang from behind the stairs like greased lightning. The gunfire ceased at the appearance of what seemed to be an ally and Candlelite risked a glance from behind the stairs.
The werewolf was down on all fours as it padded towards the black clad men who lowered their rifles and began to talk in a language that Candlelite could not understand. They were probably laughing over the probability of their lupine companion having torn him apart because they were totally relaxed as the werewolf advanced on them. When it was five feet away the werewolf growled deep in its throat, a menacing sound that Candlelite felt more than heard, and the men stopped their joking to regard the beast warily. Before they could raise their weapons to defend themselves the werewolf became a blur of motion, as it leapt into their midst and bowled them over. With claws and teeth the werewolf ripped its opponents to shreds. The entire encounter was over in about four seconds.
Candlelite stood up from the cover of the stairs and waited as the werewolf walked casually back over, its muzzle and front paws covered in gore. “Good boy,” Candlelite praised. He reached out tentatively and patted the beast on its head. “Alright then, let’s get going.” Candlelite began to jog again towards the direction from which the most sounds of combat were coming.


Harmony was pleased with the progress that his troops were making with the invasion. Almost an eighth of his men were inside the city walls in two hours, werewolves roamed the streets in large packs, and vampires patrolled the skies to lend aid wherever necessary. Even with the loss of his arcane energy canon and the two shape shifters his impending victory was beginning to taste sweet.
The sorcerer was in his tent. He sat at a small desk mixing various herbs and tinctures into a bowl. Once he had all that he required he ground them all together with a pestle. The mash that resulted was dark and just a touch slimy. Harmony brought the bowl to the small, fuel-less fire that burned constantly in the center of his tent and scraped the contents into a cast iron kettle that hung suspended over the fire. The damp mash dissolved into the clear fluid that filled the kettle and turned it a cloudy gangrene color that sent up a foul vapor the Harmony was careful not to inhale. Once the kettle ceased its fuming Harmony took a ladle from its place beside the fire and filled a rough hewn, wooden mug to its brim with the steaming liquid. Eyeing the mug with a look of distaste he brought it to his lips and drained it in three gulps.
Harmony dropped the mug and it clattered dully among the small pebbles that littered the dirt floor. A seizure gripped the sorcerer and his back arched, bending his spine almost to the breaking point and causing loud popping and cracking noises to explode from the vertebrae. His knees buckled and Harmony collapsed to the floor. His whole body arched and lifted him off of the floor, his arms outstretched and his fingers curled into claws.
“Nnnnuh!” the cry broke Harmony’s lips with a spray of pink foam that dribbled from the corner of his mouth and down the side of his face. Harmony’s body had one more spasm in it before it went limp. With a sigh the sorcerer closed his eyes and curled up on his side in the fetal position. Within a few heartbeats he was fast asleep.
The sleep did not last long. Ten minutes on the dot and Harmony’s eyes snapped open and flared briefly with silver phosphorescence as he sat up. He wiped the congealing froth from his face as an evil green light replaced the silver in his eyes and began drifting from his dark orbs to waft lazily around his head. “Aaahh,” Harmony sighed and the green glow was alive in the depths