The Broken Bow Read online

  The Broken Bow

  C.D. Beaudin

  Contents

  Map

  Foreward

  Introduction

  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

  Book 3 Excerpt

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  The Broken Bow: Mortal’s End Trilogy: Book Two: C.D. Beaudin

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Image/art disclaimer: Licensed material is being used for illustrative purposes only. Any person depicted in the licensed material is a model.

  ASIN:

  Editor: Meg Amor

  Cover Artist: Erin Dameron-Hill

  Published in the United States of America

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For the parents who make their child’s dreams come true.

  Before the breaking dawn,

  Battle cries were heard in the land of Mera,

  The sky a new shade of red.

  But in the settling fog,

  A new Warrior is bred.

  The Warrior is cloaked in a darkness blacker than his past,

  And the princess’ fate is approaching fast.

  But something in the North stews.

  The sorceress, unleashing a wave of new cold upon the Five Kingdoms.

  Will war be what the heroes choose?

  Or will they surrender to the looming darkness?

  The Battle for Mera has been forfeit.

  Bodies lie in the red dirt.

  Will the War for Mortal have the same end?

  Or will the heroes give way to hopelessness and hurt?

  Chapter One

  Eldowyn’s foot slips on a loose piece of mountain rock. The valley below is daunting, with twisted and gnarled edges that will make for an ugly death. He looks up at Aradon, the Red Warrior leading their trio up the mountain path.

  “Aradon, are you sure you know what you’re doing?” he asks as he looks down, rocks chipping off the cliff, tumbling down the invisible distance to the ground. The deathly drop seems to taunt the three travelers as they edge their way along the thin cliff path, barely four feet across in width.

  “Yes, Eldowyn,” the Red Warrior—and Besged—groans, sounding frustrated.

  Eldowyn’s eyebrows crinkle, still worried. “But are you sure we’re going the right way—”

  Aradon turns around and glares.

  “All we have to do is get to the top of this path! The Wise One will answer our questions, and we can make sure Awyn didn’t die in vain. You’re an elf. Have some fortitude.” He huffs as he turns around. Rocks tumble down the stone face above them, and they cover their heads.

  “Oi! Dese rocks are gettin’ on me nerves!” Hagard the dwarf complains as a rock hits his head hard.

  “Hagard, we’re almost there!” Aradon yells at the front of the group.

  Eldowyn remains skeptical. “Perhaps we should seek out another wizard or Delcah. Surely finding one would be much simpler than climbing this cursed mountain!” he says as he jumps over an open crack in the ledge.

  “Eldowyn, we want the right answers. A wizard or Delcah won’t be of any avail this time! The Wise One picked a safe place to live, at the top of the highest peak of the entire valley for a reason. The fate of Mortal is in the balance!” Aradon says as Eldowyn puts out a hand for Hagard to take, which is then swatted away by the prideful dwarf.

  Eldowyn sighs. “Fine, I trust you. But if this mountain kills us, I will in turn kill you.”

  Aradon glances back at him and raises a challenging eyebrow. The Red Warrior scoffs, turning forward again.

  Hagard manages to jump over the crack, his stocky body landing heavily on the rock, chipping off shale. They hear the residue tumble down the cliff face. But it’s the sound of thunder that warns them a blizzard is coming.

  The wind picks up quickly, and the snow starts falling wickedly. Their cloaks blow in the wind, snapping loudly. They squint, their eyes stinging from the heavy snowfall. The cold is making it hard to breathe, hurting Eldowyn’s chest.

  A rumble fills the mountain. His legs tremble, and rocks and ice start to fall from above them, then the cliff shrinks to barely two feet.

  “Aradon! We have to turn back. We’ll be trapped on the mountain if we go any farther!” Eldowyn yells over the loud weather.

  The Red Warrior turns to him. “We keep going.” He points behind them. “We’re already trapped!”

  A large chunk of the cliff collapses behind them, too far to jump across, and every muscle in Eldowyn’s body tenses.

  He fumes. “I’m going to kill you!” Eldowyn lunges at Aradon, knocking him to the snowy ground, pinning the surprised Aradon in the snow. The Red Warrior struggles, flipping Eldowyn over on his back, punching him in the face.

  “What are you doing?” Aradon yells in his face. “We can’t kill each other! Not now.” Aradon’s face is solemn, and Eldowyn can tell he’s thinking of her. Eldowyn breathes, sighing, and his jaw tightens.

  “Fine. But only because you have a certain power that will rip me to shreds if we actually got into a real fight.”

  Aradon gets off him and turns to Hagard as Eldowyn struggles to get up.

  “Hagard, are you doing all right?” He puts his hand on the dwarf’s shoulder.

  “Aye, laddie. Me feet are sore, but me heart is strong as an ox!” The dwarf breathes heavily, waddling up the path behind them.

  The storm dies down as quickly as it came. Hagard brushes the snow off his thick black beard. He takes off the metal band around his brow, his hair frozen to the surface.

  “Ow ow ow!”

  Aradon and Eldowyn watch as Hagard tries to pull the band from his hair. Eldowyn walks up to him, ripping the strands of hair from the metal.

  The dwarf yelps, “Oi! Elf! I’mma have yer head for dat.”

  Eldowyn chuckles. He examines the band, and the leather twined around the thick metal. His eyes sharpen.

  “Where did you get this?” he asks.

  Hagard swipes it away from him, looping his belt through the round space, letting the band hang at his thick waist.

  “It was from me pop. I don’t wear it often.” He huffs. “Now, let’s get a move on.” He squeezes past them and storms off. His black boots pound heavily on the fresh snow. “I knew it was a bad idea to climb Winter’s Pass,” he grumbles under his breath.

  Not paying attention to where h
e’s going, Hagard nearly walks off the cliff’s edge, but Aradon catches his collar.

  The hanging dwarf looks down, beads of cold sweat freezing to his face.

  “Oi.” He breathes, nervously.

  Aradon hoists him up.

  “Hagard, watch where you’re going.” He brushes snow off the dwarf’s shoulder. “Besides, we’re here.” He points at a carving in the mountain, and Eldowyn looks at it in wonder.

  “It’s a door. The magic here is strong,” Eldowyn says as Aradon pushes the carving, the door sliding into the mountain wall. It reveals a narrow staircase, not unlike the one at Kevah.

  “Well, we’ve come this far.” Aradon starts climbing the stairs, and the other two follow. The door shuts behind them, leaving them in complete darkness.

  Hagard sighs. “Great.”

  At the top of the stairs, they enter a huge cave through a carved doorway. Wooden stairs climb up to rickety balconies, again, much like the ones in the library at Kevah, though, old-looking. Books are placed on shelves carved from the stone, and a large, round table is covered in books, charts, and vials of different colored liquids. A thick layer of dust covers just about everything. On another side of the room lies a bed, and a bedside table. Another side shows a kitchen and fireplace. All around them, torches are lit.

  “Huh,” Aradon ponders. “The fire is lit, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone here.”

  “That’s because, you young ones, refuse to look beyond the light.”

  They turn in surprise at the old voice, and an equally ancient, wrinkly man emerges from the shadows.

  “The darkness hides more secrets than the light.” A smile appears on his face. “Though, not always.” A gruff chuckle comes from him.

  The three tense. They watch as the man walks over to the fire and grabs the kettle. He pours hot water into a cup and the sound of blueberries dropping into the water follows. Walking over to the large table, he sits and takes a sip of the tea, looking up at them. He gestures for them to sit.

  Hagard happily takes this gesture, falling into the chair lazily. Eldowyn looks at Aradon, and they both take a seat.

  The room is quiet, with the sound of the fire flickering and the sipping of the man with his tea. He eventually puts down his cup.

  “Now, you have come with questions.” He leans back in the chair.

  “Yes, Wise One,” Aradon says, resulting in a chuckle from the old man.

  “Well, it has been a long time since I was called that. Long time since I had visitors.” He sighs. “Please, continue with your pressing questions.”

  Aradon swallows. “Wise One, we have come to ask…how can we save Mortal? We have failed Mera and a dear friend…also two of our own.” He glances at Eldowyn, who is feeling somber at the mention of his dead brother and close friend. “We owe it to them to save the world they loved so much.”

  The Wise One’s face becomes serious. He clasps his hands together. “You think the fate of the world is on your shoulders?” He leans in. “No, Besged. That burden rests on the shoulders of your princess, who, I might add, is very much alive.”

  Hagard, Eldowyn, and Aradon all stare at him in shocked silence.

  The Wise One smiles, relaxing in his chair once again, amused at their silent surprise.

  “She knows things she didn’t before.” He glances at Eldowyn. “She knows her true family.”

  Eldowyn raises an eyebrow. “What?”

  “She knows she is your sister.”

  The three grow wide-eyed.

  Eldowyn’s in a cold sweat. “What are you talking about?” he stutters.

  “Oh…you knew she was an elf from the moment you met her,” the old man says.

  Hagard nods his head slightly. “Well, dat explains why notin’ kilt her!”

  Eldowyn ignores this comment. “I never would have guessed her to be my sister!” he shouts.

  Aradon puts a hand on his shoulder. “How does she know?” he asks.

  The old man’s face drops.

  “Revera. She fell into the earth, thus falling into Nethess. That wicked woman told her of her true heritage.”

  Eldowyn trembles with the knowledge.

  But the Wise One’s sadness is tinted by a flicker of hope. “But, you must know that she is not alone in the tower. She has your other sister there too.”

  Eldowyn’s brows furrow. “A-Adriel? She’s still alive?”

  The Wise One smiles. “Yes, and your sisters are together. The daughter of Aiocille is watching over the daughter of Daron while she grieves the truth.”

  Eldowyn is flustered, but Aradon looks angry.

  How could I have believed she was dead and left her in that dreadful place? Aradon fumes. Why was she ever born, and why do I even care?

  He’s furious, Eldowyn notes. As an elf, he can hear—feel—and see the emotions of the warrior—the intense rage—and it pains him.

  He, on the other hand is overjoyed, yet sad. He’s just learned his half-sister is alive, and that she’s with his other half-sister. Does this mean…?

  “Wise One, is my brother and his friend alive?” Eldowyn asks, hope in his heart.

  The old man has been studying Aradon and looks over at Eldowyn.

  “Yes, but I’m afraid not for much longer. They are trapped in a hole in the ground, no water, no food.”

  Eldowyn’s hope dies out, and he knows the Wise One can tell.

  “But you must not fret or grieve, for in a short time your princess will suffer the same fate.”

  They look up at him, horror stricken.

  “Awyn is going to die, truly, this time?” Aradon audibly gulps.

  The Wise One looks at him. “Yes. What are you going to do about it?”

  Aradon stands abruptly, grabbing his bow.

  “Aradon, what are you doing?” Eldowyn asks as he helps the flustered Hagard stand.

  Aradon grips his bronze bow, his hand white. He turns to the doorway, his face in shadow.

  “We are going to Nethess.”

  The Black Room is cold, even though the desert outside is blazing with heat. An atmosphere so evil lingers around the two girls as they sleep, giving them a thoughtless—dead—sleep. The warm wind of the desert turns to ice when it enters through the one rectangular window. It blows their dark hair, bristling their neck, giving them a stalking shiver. Their eyes flutter open, and they tiredly sit up against one of the black marble walls.

  “Are you doing all right?” Adriel asks Awyn, who stares at the ceiling, her head leaning against the wall.

  The princess sighs. “I just learned that I am not only an elf, I am the daughter and niece of the two most powerful elf princesses in history. I also have two half-brothers, one watched me get raped, the other tried to kill us.” She huffs, looking at Adriel. A small, unexpected smile spreads across her red lips. “At least I also have a sister.”

  Adriel smiles. “I always wanted a sister,” she says, and Awyn leans her head against her shoulder. Adriel wraps her arm around Awyn’s shoulders. “You’ll be okay. We will be okay.” She looks out the window. “Besides, you’re an elf. You must have something special inside you.”

  Awyn chuckles, straightening up. “No. And remember, I am only half-elf. I have some human blood in these veins.”

  Adriel cocks her head. “Well, whatever elven magic is in that tiny body of yours, we will find it.”

  “Yes. We certainly will.”

  The voice makes the two of them turn in fear. They swallow nervously at the sight of their aunt.

  Revera’s white teeth show through her devilish smile.

  “What do you want, Revera?” Adriel spits.

  Revera raises an eyebrow. “What? Shall you not show respect for your aunt?”

  Awyn frowns. “You may be our mother’s twin sister, but you are not our aunt. You are the daughter of darkness,” Awyn flares.

  “Oh, such powerful words,” she mocks. Revera turns to the door, a knowing glint in her eye. “I expect our mind reader t
o find out what use you will be to me.” She turns toward them, half out the door. “Remember, I will have no use for you if you don’t have any magic in that blood.” She slams the door.

  Adriel can feel Awyn tremble. “She’s bluffing,” Adriel says. It was a bad lie.

  “We both know Revera never bluffs. I am going to die.” She shakes her head, squeezing her eyes shut, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I don’t know why I’m so afraid. I would wish for death when I was in that cell.” Then a thought seems to come to her, and she looks up at Adriel. “How did you get through eighteen years of being locked up?”

  Adriel sighs. “Dreams,” she says breathlessly. “I would stow into other’s dreams and thoughts. People’s minds would be my escape. The only time I would ever spend conscious in my own reality is when I needed to eat or sleep or do something for Revera. But I escaped to dreams whenever I thought about death.” An immense feeling of sadness overtakes her. “I had hope.”

  Awyn looks sadly at Adriel. “My hope died years ago.”

  Sweat clings to their foreheads. The intense heat of the pit makes it feel like their skin is melting off their bones. Throats raw and bloody, all they can do is think of water. The taste, the cold, the wetness.

  Dirt and dust cakes their skin and clothes. Their skin is wrinkly and dry, their lips as fair as Kepp’s skin. Each breath feels heavy as their bodies grow tired and weak, worsening by the passing minute.

  Saine groans as his stomach painfully growls, having no food in the week since Revera trapped them in this cave. He retches, the pain in his stomach growing worse, his already raw throat now burning like he’s just swallowed fire.