Blood of the King - Khirro's Journey Book 1 Page 0,132

surprised himself by leaping forward and throwing all his weight toward Ghaul’s mid-section. A half-step to the left and an elbow to the small of the back sent Khirro to the ground, his shoulder banging against a sharp rock. He rolled, struggling to regain his feet. Ghaul advanced, dirk in hand. Khirro grabbed for the Mourning Sword, already knowing he wouldn’t have time to draw it, but Elyea jumped between them.

“Stop it,” she said shielding Khirro. “Stop it!”

Khirro stared up at her, his steel partially freed. Ghaul also halted, face twisted with anger and blood lust.

“Don’t imagine it’s your place to come between men, whore. It’s a good way to get yourself killed.”

Khirro couldn’t see Elyea’s face, but he imagined her expression must be like she’d been slapped. She closed the steps between her and Ghaul, stopping with only inches between them, and looked up into the eyes of the man who stood a head taller than her. Neither spoke. Khirro’s breath caught in his throat, stopped by tension fallen on them like a shroud. Athryn finally put a stop to it.

“Darestat is more powerful than we know,” he said. “His influence is everywhere. It is he who does this to us and he who has the vial.”

His words broke the hard stare between Ghaul and Elyea as they both turned toward him. The air changed, grew lighter.

“Then we must find the Necromancer quickly, before he has us kill each other,” Elyea said. “Put your blade away, Ghaul.”

The soldier looked at her, blinking, then took a step away and replaced the knife in the top of his boot, though his hard expression remained unchanged. Khirro felt a boulder lift from his chest, though the pain in his throat and side remained. He dropped the Mourning Sword back into its scabbard.

“Let’s go.” He stood and brushed dust from his breeches. “But don’t drink the water.”

It was a trick of the blue light that made the cavern seem so large. After an hour walking in silence as the picked their way around stalagmites and over debris, they reached the far wall. The blue light ended suddenly at the opening of a tunnel in the middle of the rough stone wall like it dared not cross the threshold.

They stood at the edge of the tunnel’s mouth, peering into the darkness they’d hoped had been left behind when they entered the cavern. Khirro dreaded the idea of leaving the soft blue light behind. As threatening as it seemed after his hallucination, the black was worse. A minute passed, no one moving; Khirro’s growling stomach reminded him how much time had passed since he last ate.

“There’s nothing to do but go in,” Ghaul said, finally breaking the hour long silence, but he didn’t move. No one did. Time crawled.

What are they thinking?

Khirro longed for the comforting warmth of the king’s blood against his chest. Was it the darkness before them that made him dread pressing on, or the emptiness he felt from the missing vial? He needed to have it back and moving on was the only way to get it.

Khirro pulled the Mourning Sword from its sheath and held it in both hands before him. Unbidden, his lips whispered a foreign word and the blade sprang to life. Bright white light burned up the steel, the red runes and black blade disappearing behind its radiance. The others stared at Khirro, expressions of surprise and disbelief on their faces. He looked back at them knowing his face showed the same.

“How did you...?” Elyea whispered, voice trailing off.

“I don’t know.”

“Dragon fire,” Athryn said. Blue iridescence and harsh white light flickered and fought across the surface of his silvered mask like beasts competing over their territory. “There is magic in you now, Khirro.”

“No.” Khirro shook his head. “Not me. It’s this place.”

Once, as a child listening to his mother’s fables, he might have imagined himself a wizard, but those days passed with his youth. Power and responsibility were things he didn’t crave. The Shaman gave him the responsibility for the blood of the king and twice he lost it. Being a farmer, being entrusted with another’s love, these were all the responsibility he wanted, but his life would never be like that again. He looked at the others staring at him and the glowing sword in his hand. Some things couldn’t be avoided, no matter how much you didn’t desire them.

He strode into the tunnel and his companions followed.

Darkness fled before the light of the Mourning Sword