Asunder: A Gathering of Chaos by Cameron Hopkin (electronic book reader .txt) 📗

cradle. More than a hundred of my people died in less than ten minutes. He raged at us, telling us his name over and over, demanding that we bring him the Chaos Shard.”

“Chaos Shard?” Kest asked. His head was reeling, but the gravity of the man’s story and his obvious pain in telling it subdued him. “What is that?”

“None of us knew. A weapon? An artifact of some demonic religion? It hardly mattered. He slew us even as he spoke. It wasn’t until later that I remembered what he said and made sense of it. As I buried my friends. And my son.” He passed a hand over his eyes, seeming tired for the first time since Kest had met him.

“How did you survive?”

The older man looked him right in the eyes. “I ran,” he said. “Blind with fear, out in the dark, not knowing where I went. I took shelter in – well, somewhere. A hollow in the ground? A cave? The memory is not clear. But he could have caught me. He should have. I – I lost consciousness and knew nothing for a time. When I came back to myself, my entire village was in flames. Only I survived.” The grave old monk looked away, his eyes awash with unshed tears. “Everything we worked for, destroyed in moments.”

Kest shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t want to feel sympathy for this man. Gamarron had stolen him from his home, destroyed his future. His tears meant nothing. The world is a hard place. Am I supposed to cry for people I never knew? Roughening his voice, he said, “A sad story. What does it have to do with me?”

Gamarron’s fingers twitched as if they might tighten into fists, and for a moment Kest feared he had pushed the old man too far. But no, he merely took a deep breath and relaxed his hands. When he looked in the old man’s eyes again, he wondered if he had imagined the tears – his eyes were dry, his manner composed. “A fair question. I seek the same power the demon was after. If he wishes it, I must deny him. What’s more, based on what I have learned since leaving my home, the thing Bakal desires can be used against him as easily as for him. I will find this Chaos Shard, and you will help me.”

Finally. “It sounds like a good thing to find,” Kest allowed, “but why seek it on the Mainland if this demon was looking in the North? And why travel all the way south to Pacari just for a helper? That sounds like a mighty waste of time for something so urgent.”

“The most important paths are seldom straight,” answered Gamarron. “I would return to the Black Isle this instant if it would help. But as best as I can discover, the Shard is not in my homeland; otherwise Bakal would have it already. And it is not merely a question of finding the thing. I need to know what it is, how to use it. It’s the only way to save whatever remnant of my people survives after all these months. It is the power I will use to drive this demon lord back and destroy him. There are those in the Mainland with old knowledge, deep knowledge that has gone lost from ancient times, and those are the ones I seek. That’s why I brought you – to help me navigate the deep jungles of the East to find them.”

The perky little waiter boy appeared at Gamarron’s elbow. “Might I interest you in something sweet to end your meal, sir? We’ve a cream pudding cooling in the water box, and our cook makes a wonderful spice cake.”

Gamarron waved at their plates of scraps. “No thank you, lad. We’ve had enough.” The boy nodded crisply and began gathering their plates. “Will seven flats a night suffice for a room? What did your father say?”

The slender lad managed to balance both of their plates and mugs in his little hands. “He agrees, sir, though he requires payment up front, and the room will be a smaller one. Together with the meal, that comes to seven blue rounds.”

Gamarron frowned. “Thirty-five flats? You are incorrect.”

The boy shrugged. “That’s what Father said.”

The monk ticked off the expenses on his fingers as he named them. “Three nights at one round and two is twenty-one. The birds were two flats a piece, and one for each beer. That’s twenty-seven, not thirty-five.”

Disappointment flashed in the boy’s face and disappeared so quickly Kest wasn’t sure he’d actually seen it. “Your pardon, wise master. Da must have made a mistake in the counting.” He held out his hand. Gamarron eyed him coolly, but the lad didn’t flinch. The gray-haired savage withdrew his purse from his robe and carefully fished out two sapphire flats and seven pearl flats. They clinked musically as they fell into the boy’s hand, and he disappeared with a nod.

Gamarron stood and Kest followed suit, feeling the room sway alarmingly as he moved. “The streets will have cleared a bit. Let’s be on our way. We’ll return once we’ve completed our task for the night.”

The bench caught Kest’s boot as he stepped over it, sending him tumbling into the adjacent table, where he sprawled against a couple having drinks together. He extracted himself with muttered apologies, trying to get his weight under him without much success. The man nodded amiably, not appearing to mind, but the woman snarled, giving him a hard shove to send him on his way. It got him moving, and he was able to make his way to the door without too much effort. Gamarron sighed.

“I shouldn’t have bought you the beer.”

“I’m fine. I’ll be fine. A little unsteady, is all. It’ll pass.” He braced himself in the doorway and managed the latch without a hitch, which he was quite proud of. The stairs down to the odd crustacean walkway were a bit harder, but he shook off the