Wrath of the Forgotten: Descendants of the Fall Book II by Hodges, Aaron (good english books to read .txt) 📗

Silently, Lukys stretched out his mind to the guards, trying to take care not to broadcast his own fear. He was still too new at this, too inexperienced. Surely this was too dangerous…

…but no, he couldn’t allow the guards to reach the far shore. One glimpse of the recruits would doom them all.

He touched their minds, gently, softly, brushing against their thoughts. He sensed their worry, their fear of failure, broadcast for the world to hear. But deeper, he sensed the fiery confidence of the Tangata, the belief in their strength. He mimicked those thoughts himself, trying to augment, to reassure the two creatures there was nothing there.

No, the first said finally. Nothing got passed us. Come on, I don’t want to be caught away from our post.

Lukys released a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding as the footsteps retreated, moving quickly back towards the city. Sophia’s eyes found him in the darkness, but she said nothing, and after a moment Lukys looked away.

They continued across the river, the cold now so ingrained in Lukys’s bones that he could barely feel his extremities. If they spent much longer in the water, he feared discovery would be the least of their worries. He tried to pick up his pace, moving through the currents by pushing off one pillar with his feet and grasping desperately at the next as it came within reach, using the spear to find them in the darkness. In some places, though, the pillars were missing, and here it took all Lukys’s energy just to keep from being swept away. On two occasions, Sophia had to grasp his spear and drag him back to safety. He prayed to the Gods that Travis and the others had managed to cross safely.

Lukys’s frozen mind barely registered their arrival on the distant shore. He stumbled from the river, water coursing from his clothes. Shadows flickered ahead as first Travis, then Dale stepped from the darkness and embraced him. A tremor shook Lukys, but his friends were just as cold as he was. After a moment they broke apart and Lukys slumped to the sandy shore.

It was the worst thing he could have done. Now that he’d stopped moving, the tremors redoubled until his teeth were chattering so loudly he feared the guards might still hear him all the way from the city. He looked around as Sophia strode from the water. Their eyes met and he opened his mouth to thank her, but could not get the words out.

Get up, she said, the words a command. If you don’t move, you’ll die.

Lukys hesitated at the coldness to her tone, but finally he nodded and dragged himself off the sand. He almost went to her, but fought the urge. They stood beside the bridge, its shadow stretching away into the dark, only to reappear in the distance where lanterns burned at the entrance of the city. He wondered how long it would take the Old One to discover their absence.

Still shaking, he turned his gaze from the river to the shoreline. His fellow Perfugians stood there in various states of wakefulness. It looked like all had survived the crossing, no doubt aided by their Tangatan partners. The creatures themselves stood alongside the recruits, keeping them moving, keeping them warm. A pang of longing touched him, that he could experience that same closeness, but he shook it off. His friends still didn’t know what had been done to them.

That could wait. They needed to be away from this place.

“Where to?” Travis asked as the recruit caught his gaze.

Lukys shook his head, trying to force his frozen mind into action. His gaze lifted to the east. The first hints of morning silhouetted the Mountains of the Gods. He swallowed, images of Cara soaring towards him across the Illmoor appearing in his mind. Somewhere in those peaks, her family lived, their location marked by the map he held in his head. If they could reach that hidden site…

He turned back to his comrades, taking in their sodden state. Half appeared to have lost their spears in the currents, and only the supplies carried by the Tangata had made the crossing. Their clothing was thin, suited to the milder climates of the south, and in the endless wilderness of Calafe there would be no finding anything better. Without proper cloaks and furs, they wouldn’t last a night in those snow-capped peaks.

His heart sinking, he returned his gaze to the river. The currents swept past, making their endless journey down through lowland Calafe, to the coast, to the ocean. They had made it to the southern shore, the least likely place the Tangata would look for them, but they would need to cross again eventually if they wanted to journey north. But what then? Hundreds of miles lay between here and the questionable safety of Flumeer—and all of it territory claimed by the Tangata.

He shook his head. They would never make it.

“Let’s go,” he said, trying to keep the despair from his voice. They needed to move or they wouldn’t even last the day.

We must walk in the water, Sophia’s voice drifted through his thoughts. The older generations might track us by your scent.

Lukys gritted his teeth, but nodded. “Back in the water,” he said to the recruits. “We go downriver.”

Several flashed him strange looks, but they were soon marching west away from the bridge, boots squelching with each step. Thankfully the water was shallow this side of the Shelman, the stones firm beneath their feet. They made good progress, though Lukys could feel the cold eating at his legs. Despite the risk, they would need to light a fire when they finally stopped, or risk frostbite.

They pressed on through the darkness, making it a mile downstream before finally leaving the water. From there they continued west, threading their way through the light shrub that grew along the riverbank.

Despite their progress, Lukys could