Aerenden: The Gildonae Alliance (Ærenden Book 2) Read online




  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  ÆRENDEN: THE GILDONAE ALLIANCE

  Copyright © Kristen Taber 2013

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9851200-4-7 (Kindle)

  This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, locations, and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locations or events is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Sean Tigh Press. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without the prior written permission of the Author.

  www.kristentaber.com

  Cover and Sean Tigh Press logo by Lance Ganey

  For my daughter, my greatest creation

  CHAPTER ONE

  THE WORLD streaked past, brown bark and evergreen mixed with the dirty sludge of winter. Meaghan leaped over the remains of a fallen spruce, and then dodged around a thorn bush. Her stride never broke. An ice patch appeared in front of her, pressing red and orange leaves into the ground, and she veered left to avoid it. She had almost missed this one, though heightened adrenaline had saved her at the last moment. She could not fall. She could not slow. Her life depended on it.

  Wind burned her cheeks and whipped her hair behind her. She ignored it. She also ignored the way her breath seared her lungs. She pushed harder, further than she had before. And she focused, straining her ears and eyes. An attack would come soon. She expected it, though she wished she had Nick's sensing power to warn her when it neared. Without it, she had to rely on her training alone. She hoped it would be enough.

  Up ahead, vines hung motionless across her path. They could be harmless, but she could not take the chance. Without changing her pace, she grabbed a stick from the ground and threw it into the curtain of green stretching in front of her. The vines reacted, snapping and curling around the branch until it crumbled into splinters. She swerved off the path, circled around the creeper vines, and then hurdled when she realized a log blocked her path. An inch shy of clearing it, she caught her foot on a protruding branch.

  She hit the ground and rolled before springing back to her feet and pushing forward once more. Her ankle ached where she had broken it months before. Cold weather often brought a familiar pang to her old injury and tripping had increased that ache, but she could not allow it to stop her. She tightened her arms at her sides, increased her speed, and set her eyes on her goal—a white flag. Safety.

  Her heart raced in anticipation. Her eyes locked on her prize as victory spread a smile over her lips. Then seconds before she reached it, a growl caught her attention from the trees. A figure dropped from the thickest limbs to her right. Wind swirled his dark brown cloak around him as he reached for her, skin stretching across skeleton thin fingers. Red eyes sought hers in an attempt to freeze her, and then a howl escaped his fibrous mouth when his power had no effect. She attempted to skid to a stop, but her feet continued to slide.

  Ice took her legs out from under her. She landed on her back. Pain shot through her spine, and she struggled to reclaim her breath. The Mardróch jumped on top of her. His knees pressed into her chest and his hands crushed her arms into the ground. Snow numbed her skin, and in that moment, she realized the monster was not one of Nick's training holograms.

  Why had she not smelled him? Her empath power coursed through her, stronger than ever. The Mardróch should have triggered it well before she got close to him. Yet she sensed nothing. Not even while his breath brushed her skin.

  And where was Nick? As her Guardian, he should have come running when the Mardróch attacked. He would not leave her to fight the creature alone—unless he had no other choice and the Mardróch had reached him first. The thought seized her before she banished it, refocusing on the monster's bony face instead. She had to figure out a way to escape before she could worry about Nick. She had to figure out how to breathe.

  Gray shadowed the edges of her sight. The Mardróch tightened his grip, digging his nails into her wrists, and she drew her knees up in attempt to shove him away. One of her ribs gave instead. She cried out in pain before she could control the reaction.

  The Mardróch's webbed mouth opened in a gaping grin. His eyes swirled a darker red with his pleasure, and she solidified her resolve. She tried again, and this time her boots met muscle. She pitched sideways, throwing the monster off, and then whipped her head around to search for the white flag Nick had used to mark the end of her course. Sometimes the flags led to real hiding places, but not today. Not this one. He had attached it to a rock.

  She jumped to her feet. The Mardróch did the same, facing her. Electricity arced across his fingers. He grinned again, emitted a deep, rattling laugh, and she ran. She needed to get to the cabin. The crystals surrounding it would protect her.

  She managed only a few steps before dirt exploded at her heels. She wove through the forest, placing trees between her and her pursuer. Wood splintered in front of her. Bushes erupted into fire at her sides. Heat burned her skin and seared the hairs on her arms. Her breath rasped and her ribs screamed with every step. Six more yards to go. Now five. She could see the cabin ahead, though the Mardróch would see nothing more than forest. If she could figure out a way to distract him while she crossed the border into the protected clearing, she would be safe. She only needed a plan.

  She did not have the chance to form one. She made the mistake of turning her head to look for her attacker, slipped on another patch of ice, and fell to her knees. The Mardróch raised his hands, and then a streak of blue and white filled her vision.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “WELL, YOU almost made it.”

  The forest lurched around Meaghan again, dissolving into view at the same speed it had faded. She blinked several times. A pair of ocean blue eyes peered down at her, and then Nick's face came into focus. He knelt over her, a small vial in his hand. Empty, she had no doubt, as she tasted bitter potion on her lips.

  “What happened?” she asked and pushed up to her knees. Although panic still worked its way through her veins, turning her blood into rapids, Nick's presence told her the Mardróch had not been as he seemed. A quick scan of the surrounding woods confirmed her suspicion. “Where is he? He was real. He...” her voice failed her and she swallowed hard.

  “Killed you,” Nick finished her sentence and frowned. A few strands of his sandy blonde hair fell into his eyes and he swept his hand across his forehead to move them out of the way. “For
tunately for you he wasn't as real as he seemed. Why didn't you use your knife?”

  Her hand moved to her belt, where a leather sheath held an eight-inch blade. She had forgotten she had it. That made the third time in the past month she had run instead of using her weapon. No matter how hard she tried to retrain the way she thought, she could not seem to remember that death would stop her attacker better than any other method. The one time she had drawn her knife, she had not been able to use it against the man who chased her. It felt too much like murder.

  “I didn't think of it,” she confessed. “The Mardróch was an illusion?”

  Nick nodded. “I put a hallucination potion in your water this morning.”

  “I see.” She ran her fingers along her rib cage, searching for the break, but found no tenderness, not even a small amount of pain. “So everything was fake?”

  “Yes.” Nick stood. Taking her hand, he pulled her to her feet. “All of it easily fixed with an antidote, fortunately. You have to learn to defend yourself, Meg. They'll kill you if you don't kill them first.”

  She sighed. “I know.”

  “But you still don't strike.” He held her gaze a moment longer until shame forced her to look away, then he turned and began walking back to the cabin. She followed him. When they reached the clearing, she trailed her eyes toward the sky. Red streaks greeted her along the horizon. The sun would be gone soon.

  “Guardians use the potion to simulate real situations, to determine if a student is ready to graduate,” Nick continued their conversation as if no silence had elapsed between them. “It took me two tries to pass the test.”

  Yet his displeasure that she had failed her first try broadcast across her empath power like a parental scolding. She stiffened her shoulders. “It wasn't exactly a fair test,” she said. “I can smell Mardróch. I can't smell illusions. If he'd been real—”

  “You'd be dead. The Mardróch would have heard you long before you sensed him. You're too loud.”

  She crossed her arms over her stomach, but he did not give her time to object.

  “Furthermore, this isn't about fairness. It's about war and about survival. You can't count on being able to sense the Mardróch. They figured out a way to weaken the Guardian sensing ability. They could do the same with your empath power.”

  “They found an old spell to mute the Guardian sensing power. There aren't any Spellmasters left to create another spell to block my power. Caide and Aldin aren't strong enough to do it, even if Garon knew where they were.”

  “You assume they won't find another spell,” Nick said. “The castle is full of old spells hidden by the royal family and their Guardians. Since Garon lives there now, I wouldn't count on luck to get you through.”

  Meaghan blew out a short breath to ease her frustration and stopped at the steps to the cabin. “Fine. You've made your point. I won't count on anything.”

  “That wasn't my point. You just can't count on being able to sense the Mardróch. You can count on your everyday senses. Garon can't take those away. Pay attention, be alert, and follow your instincts.”

  “My instincts are to run,” she reminded him. “I haven't experienced combat my whole life like you have. It's not easy for me to hurt someone, even if they are trying to hurt me.”

  “You think it's easy for me?” Nick asked. His eyes snapped to hers, and the strength of his anger overwhelmed her power for a moment before he controlled it. A second emotion flickered beneath the first, but she could not name it. “It isn't meant to be easy, but even if it was, it doesn't matter. All that matters is you learn to defend yourself. We can't rejoin the people from my village until you do.”

  She frowned. “I know you want to get back to your mother and the other Guardians, but—”

  “Damn it, Meg!” His anger surged again. His hands shot forward and his grip bruised her shoulders. “This isn't about getting back there. This is about keeping you alive.”

  She stared at him and at the red blanketing his face, surprised by the depth of his anger. Her shoulders throbbed. Her throat constricted with panic. Then it hit her. His buried emotion flooded to the surface, followed in quick succession by a series of other emotions she had failed to detect. Worry, anxiety, fear, and grief tumbled within her and she understood.

  “Nick,” she began, not sure what to say, but stopped when he shook his head. He released his hold on her and, for the first time since they had arrived at the cabin, he used his power against her. He masked his emotions, drawing a barrier around them so she could no longer sense him. Then, turning from her, he crossed the porch and entered the cabin.

  She followed close behind him. As soon as they cleared the doorway, he pointed to the small table in one corner of the room.

  “Sit,” he said. “We have more work to do.”

  The command increased her own anger and she debated the satisfaction of fueling an argument, but decided against it when he cast her a warning glare. She slid into a chair, folded her hands on top of the table, and waited.

  “Start the focusing exercises,” he instructed, and though she had done them hundreds of times in the last few months, he recited the steps anyway. He began pacing the room and she knew he had stopped paying attention to her. She closed her eyes.

  “Close your eyes,” he said.

  She inhaled and focused on her breath and then on the heat beside her lungs.

  “Now inhale and focus on the point where your breath expands in your lungs, on the warmth there...”

  She tuned out the sound of his voice, seized her power and held on to it. She had grown to recognize its warmth over the past few months. Although it seemed strongest by her heart, she could sense it even in the smallest cells of her body. She could command it along those cells, alive and ready, like electricity running along wires. Whenever she wanted it to work, she flipped the switch and the power poured through her—to her hands or feet or even to her legs, as she had discovered one day at the end of the fall season. She had been sitting cross-legged in the clearing not long after they had arrived at the cabin. The chill in the air had turned to ice, bringing death or hibernation to many of the plants surrounding them. Because she had no way to test her revival power, she had dispersed the energy into the ground.

  At first nothing had happened, but then wildflowers began to grow beneath her legs and around her. It had been the last time she had seen pride on Nick's face. Since then, he only grew more frustrated with her progress.

  It did not help that she had learned to control her revival power, but still had no clue how to command her empath power. She could not seem to shut it off. She failed at every technique he taught her. She focused on shrinking it, but the warmth stayed steady. She tried to contain it, but it escaped her hold. She tried ignoring the emotions, but they grew stronger until she paid attention to them. And each time she failed, Nick's disappointment overshadowed her own.

  Today they would attempt a new technique Nick's mother, May, had shared with them. She used it for Guardian children who had the most trouble controlling their sensing powers. As Nick's emotions grew stronger within her, she would focus on them individually, peeling off each one until nothing remained, like stripping petals from a rosebud.

  When Nick dropped his guard again, Meaghan allowed his emotions to overwhelm her, and then followed May's instructions. She focused on Nick's fear first, since that seemed to be the weakest emotion. Concentrating on it, she envisioned plucking a rose petal from a flower and let the imaginary petal drift to the ground. The emotion remained. She frowned and reached for it again. It strengthened, so she ignored it and moved on to the next emotion. Worry begged for her attention, so she latched on to it, then discarded it and waited. Nothing happened. One last effort on his anger produced the same result. Opening her eyes, she felt hope layer on top of Nick's other emotions, and shook her head in response.

  He nodded, tucked his hands behind his back, and walked out the door, leaving disappointment behind him.

  §<
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  DARKNESS SETTLED across the night, casting long shadows through the woods and turning trees into ominous sentries set for war. Stars flickered above, but the moon chose to hide, holding its light hostage within the clouds. Nick tightened his cloak around his shoulders, blocking the wind from slicing his skin, but the garment failed to ease the chill that had settled into his mind. He knew he should find his way back to the cabin and to the fire Meaghan would have built by now, but his feet continued to wander.

  He needed the solitude and the chance to settle his emotions again. He had succeeded in keeping them buried over the past few weeks, despite the news he had received from his mother, but Meaghan's failed field exam had dismantled that control. He had hoped she would pass the test so they could return to the protection of the Guardian army. Mardróch had been sniffing around the area over the past few weeks. It would only be a matter of time before they spotted the hideout. The cabin would stay hidden by the crystals, of course, but Nick could not hide all traces of his and Meaghan's existence. Training and hunting left them vulnerable to the acute senses of the vile monsters.

  Much like the dark night did, Nick realized. He froze as low-lying leaves rustled to his left, the noise slicing through the still air in warning. Nick curled his fingers around the hilt of his knife and turned, poised to fight. A raccoon darted from underneath a bush.

  “Mangy creature,” Nick muttered and forced his body to relax.

  The animal stopped to watch him, then turned and disappeared into the black forest. No sooner had its ringed tail vanished than another movement caught the corner of Nick's eye. A shadow stepped through the trees and Nick drew his blade, throwing it so it imbedded into the bark of a pine tree only inches from the shadow's head. He pulled a second knife and waited.

  “That was stupid,” a familiar voice said, then a large hand reached out to dislodge the blade from the tree moments before the moon broke through the clouds, glinting light off a pair of pale blue eyes. “You just gave me a weapon. If I'd meant to harm you, it would be in your chest by now.”