Exodus: The Windwalker Archive: Book 3 (Legends of Agora) (13 page)

Ragnar Spiritbone never lived to see his grandson. He die saving fellow fisherman in bad storm. Some called it Eye of Thodin. When it come back to claim Talon those years later, I curse Thodin for his cruelty, swear he cannot have the boy as well.

-Gretzen Spiritbone

It had been four days since Talon was abducted from the deck of Freedom, and he was eager to fly north and join up with the crew. He assumed that in his absence, Argath had continued with his plan to find McGillus’s buried treasure, to which Talon had given him the coordinates. Han said that it would take the ships seven days to reach northern Shierdon, but Talon worried that they might have traveled much faster, given that they had Zilena with them.

He was eager to get going.

Han instructed him that three other riders would be going with them for the mission: Flick, who had adamantly volunteered; Haze, who was arguably the best rider he had; and Ash, the only dwarven rider.

“How did you all come across magical items?” Talon asked as he loaded Brightwing with supplies.

“We get them from dark elves,” said Han.

Talon stared at him, shocked. “You…you have fought against the dark elves?”

“Indeed. We are Shierdon’s most elite fighting squad. The threat of the dark elves is the very reason for our existence.”

Talon gained newfound respect for the riders and realized what danger he had really been in the night that he almost fought Haze.

“We keep what we find on those dark elves we manage to kill or rob. Then, each rider is given a quest. If he or she completes the quest, they are made a rider, and given their fated weapon.”

“I already had elven magic that I had earned. That’s why you let me in,” said Talon.

Han stopped what he was doing and regarded Talon with interest. “Let you in? I didn’t know that you wished to be a hawk rider beyond this mission.”

“I don’t,” said Talon. “I mean…it would be an honor, but I haven’t thought much about anything more than freeing Akerri and the Skomm. The prospect of becoming a hawk rider is overwhelming.” He studied the general, recognizing slight disappointment in his eyes. “Do you want me to join?”

Han laughed. “Lad, I scour Agora looking for the most skilled warriors she has to offer. That is why you are here. It was I who advised the king on this course of action.”

“Why?”

Again Han laughed. This time, shaking his head as well. “You’re a humble one, aren’t you? I chose you because you are the first Skomm in history to escape Volnoss and start a revolution. Is there anything else to say?” he asked, arms wide.

Talon didn’t know what to say.

“We’ll deal with the problems at hand, and then you will have time to consider the offer. But I will say this. Life as a hawk rider offers excitement, glory, and a good living. You and Akerri could come live with us in the high perch nestled in the northern Ky’Dren Mountains. You could even have a family.”

Han watched him and smiled kindly when Talon let out an overwhelming sigh.

“Keep it in the back of your mind, as I said,” Han told him.

“I will. Thank you, General Ford.”

“Thank me if we all get out of this alive,” said the general. He turned from Talon and cupped his hands over his mouth. “Mount up!”

Haze, Flick, and Ash climbed up onto their saddles and took the reins in hand. Talon mounted Brightwing as well, and on Han’s command, they took to the sky to the cheers of the other riders.

Brightwing followed the lead of the other silver hawks, and though Talon held the reins, he hardly used them, trusting that she could steer them better than him. They flew north over Lake Eardon, and soon were flying over farms and valleys, following the road toward the coast. Given the nature of the mission, the silver hawks had changed their naturally luminescent silver feathers to sky blue, which caused them to blend flawlessly with the clear sky. Talon marveled at the way that his cloak took on the same colors as Brightwing. With such camouflage at his disposal, Talon would be able to infiltrate Volnoss virtually invisible.

He thought of the coming battle as he flew, and a slow dread began to replace his former excitement. Soon he would have to face Fylkin, and worse yet, if he was to go along with King Donarron’s plan, he would have to face Kreal as well. Talon didn’t know which man he feared more. Indeed, the prospect of fighting Fylkin to the death was less terrifying than standing before the man who had wanted to kill him at birth.

Talon had wondered what it might have been like had his mother not gotten sick with the frozen plague. If she had gone to term with him, he might have grown into a tall Vald and passed the measure. He would have had a family and would have made his father proud.

But I would also be a bigot, just another Vald stomping around making the Skomm’s lives terrible.

Talon realized then that he would rather accept his lot in life rather than change who he was. His amma’s words had been true all along: he was destined to do great things. Why else would a magic ring, a spirit wolf, and a silver hawk find their way into his possession?

The rest of the flight, Talon thought only of his fortune. He had met and fallen in love with the most beautiful girl on Volnoss. He had found a good friend in Jahsin. Even his time with Tyson and the others he cherished. And there was his amma and Azzeal, both of whom had given him so much at their own expense. Talon thought of Forrest, and his new friends, Crag, Argath, Torrance, and even the insane Gill-Gammond.

Now he was flying upon a silver hawk.

Talon had many things to be thankful for, and the weight of his gratitude brought tears to his eyes.

The blazing afternoon sun gave way to clouds and a darkening sky. The air was still mild high above the clouds, but they had been flying for many hours, and a chill had begun to creep into Talon’s bones from the constant buffeting wind.

He had told Argath the coordinates to Captain McGillus’s loot and hoped to meet up with them there. It had been nearly a week since he was taken from the ship, and if Han was right, the two ships should be reaching the location by nightfall—that is, if they hadn’t diverted from the plan.

They reached the northern coast as the shadows of tall trees began to stretch long across the land. Han signaled to the others, and though Talon wasn’t sure what it meant, Brightwing followed the others and fell into position on her own. From their high vantage point, they could see many miles north into the heart of the Strait of Shierdon, and while there were tiny ships sailing below, none of them turned out to be Freedom or Redemption.

Han steered them back to the coast, and they followed it west for nearly an hour. By the time they landed, the sun had set and the stars shone behind scattered clouds.

“This is the spot,” said Han. He slid down the wing of his silver hawk and took off his goggles, rubbing his eyes. “Ash, stretch your legs and take the first shift. I want a two-mile-wide perimeter set, and keep an eye out for those ships.”

“Aye,” said the dwarf. He leapt off and hurried to relieve himself behind a bush.

Talon got down and stretched his sore body. He hadn’t thought that riding a silver hawk could be so painful. His legs throbbed, and it felt as though he had fallen on his tailbone a dozen times.

“Mind you don’t get them hawk rider bow legs,” said Haze as he stood before his mount, holding a pouch of food over its beak.

“Let’s get camp set up,” said Han. “Talon, help Flick with the tents. Haze, get us a fire going.”

“Yes, sir,” said the men.

They set up camp quickly, and Han came back from a nearby stream with bulging pouches of water. He said something to his silver hawk, and it leapt into the air in the direction of the stream. When it returned, it carried a dead deer carefully in its razor-sharp beak and dropped it beside the fire.

Han pet its head and offered words of encouragement before dropping a handful of green buds on the ground. Talon had been told the importance of the plant early on. It was called hawksbane, and was used to train and reward the hawks, who found it utterly irresistible.

Ash landed beside the camp an hour later, and Flick took his turn scouting the perimeter. When Ash saw the deer that the others were butchering, he rubbed his hands and licked his lips.

“Outta the way, outta the way,” Ash said, producing two hatchets and clanging them together. “Let a professional deal with the meat!”

Han laughed and stepped aside. “Have at it,” he said, wiping his hands on a rag and pulling Talon off to the side.

“That treasure of yours is that way,” he said, pointing west. “There’s a cemetery between us and the next village. If your coordinates are right, the treasure is buried somewhere around there.”

Talon wondered again of Han’s sincerity about not wanting any of the treasure. He watched Han closely, but the man ignored the probing and went on.

“Do you want to dig it up tonight and save the Skomm from risking landfall, or do you want to wait for them?”

Talon thought about it. Digging it up first and bringing it to them would be safer. Freedom and Redemption were no doubt considered pirate ships by the many kingdoms, though the king of Shierdon had ensured him that they would not be touched by Shierdonian naval vessels. Again Talon regarded Han suspiciously. Finally, the man squared on him and offered a scowl.

“I told you, lad, I’ve got no interest in your loot. If I wanted it, I would take it. Now, what do you want to do?”

“It will be better if they don’t come to shore. It’ll cause too much talk, and we don’t want the Vald catching wind of us right now. Let’s dig it up tonight.”

“Good choice,” said Han. “But first, let us dine.”

Gretzen’s magic intrigues me. Unlike the dark elf art of necromancy, the old Vald’s magic is a practice of working
with
the spirits, rather than enslaving them. She listens to them, helps them, learns from them. It is said that every secret spoken aloud can be known through the spirit world.

-Azzeal, Keeper of the Windwalker Archive

All through dinner Talon thought of what they might find buried inside the cemetery. The venison was tender and juicy, but he hardly noticed, so enamored was he by the idea of riches. He planned on helping the Skomm to start their own country, and they could use all the help they could get. The money would come in handy when the building began on the new Skomm Village.

Talon smiled to himself at the thought—a country of their own. Never in a thousand years had he ever thought such a thing might be possible.

Flick landed and grabbed a hunk of meat before accepting a wine flask from Ash.

“You’re up,” Han told Haze. “The rest of you, grab your spades and follow me. Talon, you might want to summon that wolf of yours.”

Talon summoned Chief and told him what they were about to do. As they walked the distance to the cemetery, Gill-Gammond’s clues came back to him,
graveyard…crying mother…murderer, murderer…murderer!

He scoured the landscape as the distant, foggy cemetery came into view.

“Well, these are the coordinates by the reckoning of a seafarer like McGillus,” said Han.

“The only other clue is ‘crying mother,’” said Talon.

They went through the decrepit gate of the overgrown cemetery and searched the tombstones, most of which stood slanted and cracked. Some of the dates put them at over two hundred years old. Talon shuddered, thinking of the cold and lonely lot buried here. The practice of burying the dead was strange to him, for on Volnoss, both the Vald and Skomm burned their dead. To think that the body would be preserved after death only to be eaten by worms disturbed him.

“There!” said Ash, so suddenly that Talon jumped with a start. “Crying mother. That’s got to be it.”

Talon began running toward the tall statue of a winged female woman bent with sorrow.

“Halt!” said Han. “They might have laid traps.”

Talon froze and glanced around nervously.

Han stabbed his shovel in the ground before him and crept along cautiously. The others, including Talon, followed suit.

They found no traps, and were soon standing before the tall statue.

“You want to do the honors?” Han asked.

“Alright,” said Talon, unable to hide his grin. He stabbed the spade into the ground and began hurriedly tossing back the dirt.

The others joined in. They dug a foot deep and six feet wide, then two feet deep, and three. All the while Talon’s excitement grew. Four feet down they hit a root, and for a moment Talon thought they had found the treasure. Seeing it for what it was, Talon chopped it in half and jumped down into the now eight-foot-wide plot. He dug to five feet, and then suddenly, his spade hit something solid.

Talon threw his spade aside and began digging at the dirt with his fingers. He felt the round form beneath his hands and clawed at it, trying to get a look at the prize.

“Some light!” said Han, and Flick produced his sword and spoke a word. To Talon’s amazement, it burst into flames.

He turned his head from the blazing sword to the thing in his hands and let out a cry. The hollow eyes of a skull stared back at him.

Talon leapt out of the hole and nearly knocked over Ash, but the sturdy dwarf quickly shot out his hands to steady him.

“Feikinstafir!” said Talon, pacing circles beside the grave.

“Aye, an unmarked grave be a curse upon the dead,” said Ash.

“Pull him out of there and see what’s beneath,” said Han, and Flick leapt in without hesitation.

What came out of the hole was mostly bones and ragged clothes, and Talon realized that this was the murder that Gill-Gammond must have been alluding to with his riddles. From what he had gathered from Gill, one of McGillus’s men and Gammond had stolen the treasure and buried it here, but only Gammond returned.

Once the body was out of the hole, Talon jumped back in and joined Flick in his digging. After a few minutes, Flick’s shovel hit something that reverberated like wood might. Talon helped him to quickly remove the dirt, and his eyes went wide when he saw the makings of a small chest.

“Well, what you got?” said Han. “What you got?”

“I think this is it,” said Talon.

He found an iron handle and pulled, but didn’t even budge the chest. Together with Flick he removed all the dirt around it, at which time Ash leapt into the hole and spit on his hands.

“Step aside,” said the dwarf, crouching low and taking up both handles.

Talon and Flick climbed out as Ash began to groan. He gave a cry and finally dislodged the chest and heaved it up to ground level.

“Heavy sonofabitch that is!” said Ash.

The chest was covered in strange runes and writing Talon didn’t understand. There was a thick lock holding it closed, and Han bent to inspect it, calling for Flick’s light once more. The sword blazed, and they all saw how thick and formidable the lock appeared.

“Flick, if you would do the honors,” said Han, gently pushing Talon back.

“Yes sir,” said Flick, and brought his flaming sword down on the lock.

There was a loud pop and a spark, and when Talon looked again, the lock lay broken on the ground.

“Go on, open it,” said Ash, nudging Talon and staring with gleaming eyes at the chest.

Talon forgot his suspicions and knelt before the chest. He soon reminded himself that something unpleasant might lie within, and slowly pulled back the lid. It gave way with a creek.

“Feikinstafir,” said Talon as he laid eyes on what was inside.

“Mother o’ Ky’Dren,” Ash whispered.

In the chest, piled high atop one another, were the clearest, most luminescent diamonds that Talon could imagine. He had never actually seen a diamond, but he knew that these were large for precious stones. Some were as big as an apple, while others were the size of a pea. All told, there must have been hundreds.

Ash reached into the chest and came away with a handful of diamonds, but Talon didn’t care. He too took one up and held it to the fire light.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you, Windwalker?” said Flick, marveling at the loot.

“I had no idea…” he began, but trailed off, unable to speak for such beauty. It was as though the sunset was embodied within the sleek gems.

“These…these be dwarven diamonds!” Ash suddenly blurted, returning to the chest and digging for the largest. He pulled out the biggest diamond and held it aloft, studying its edges.

Talon became jealous as he watched the dwarf fondle his treasure, and reached to grab the diamond.

Ash pulled it away. “This be dwarven make, I say! These be the Stones o’ Ky’Dren!”

“The Stones of Ky’Dren?” Flick repeated dreamily, bringing his sword and flame closer.

“You said that neither you nor your men had any claim over the loot,” said Talon, whirling around on Han.

The man looked beyond him. “Are you sure?” he said to Ash.

“Aye, General. These be the Stones O’ Ky’Dren, or I’m a bearded dragon.”

“You have no claim to this treasure,” said Talon.

Ash turned on him with watering eyes. “Aye, but the dwarves o’ Ky’Dren do. You be the rightful discoverer o’ the treasure, and so, as they say, finders be keepers, but I be implorin’ ye to sell it to the Ky’Dren dwarves.”

Talon straightened. He felt foolish about his eagerness to defend the treasure with violence so quickly. “Sell it? How much is it worth?” he asked.

“How much…” Ash began but choked on his own words. “It be worth more gold than ye can count.”