Eve of Redemption: Books 1-6: (An Epic Fantasy Boxed Set) Page 2

  It would’ve served to cover up the fact that she had no home or family of her own…

  As a demonhunter, hers had always been a life lived on the road, but here and now, so far removed from the life she had known, Kari felt out of place and out of touch with the world she had just helped save. She had no idea where her road would lead once she was put on assignment by the priests, but she knew whatever it was would do nothing to dispel eight years’ worth of battle fatigue.

  Barcon never would’ve been her first choice of refuge, but it was the closest major inland city to where her brigade was stationed at the war’s end. It was a haven for organized crime and had been for as long as Kari could remember, but even still it had a well-established temple district, and her deity, Zalkar, the patron of law and the Demonhunter Order, maintained a church despite the city’s corruption.

  The thought of a potent drink in her hand as she relaxed in a steaming tub warmed her blood, and Kari tucked her wings close to her back as she ran. She was able to keep up her brisk pace for some time, testament to a life of physical activity and conditioning, and Barcon came into sight after a while. The first few drops of rain began to pelt Kari on her draconic snout, and her clawed feet kicked up dust from the road as she approached the city, just as the skies opened up and the steady beat of rain upon the earth began.

  I hope the guards don’t hold me for questioning in this, she thought.

  She slowed her approach as she reached the edge of the firelight from the gates. Her people, the rir, had strong eyes and could see well in the dark, but Barcon was a primarily human city and the guards posted at the southeast gate were both human. As a terra-dracon, Kari had wings like a dragon, but such often meant her kind were mistaken for half-demons. And if she was mistaken for a half-demon while running at the gate, her rank as a demonhunter wouldn’t mean much.

  As she approached the gates, the two humans posted at ground level prepared to stop her. They had the look of green recruits and wore the expressions of men who weren’t happy to be stationed out in the cold and rain while their comrades sat inside the tower or up in the covered archers’ post. Hands went to hilts and the one on the left held his hand up, so Kari stopped a respectable distance from them within the firelight. The guards studied her for a few moments before exchanging a glance, and then the one on the left spoke.

  “Half-demons aren’t welcome in the city,” he said with the accent common in the southern plains, fixing Kari with an unwelcoming stare.

  Kari drew up her dog tags so they fell across her breastplate. They were the tags of a demonhunter, enchanted with a latent aura that marked them as authentic to anyone sensitive to the arcane or the divine. “Karian Vanador, Shield of the Heavens, by Zalkar’s grace,” she responded as she stood straight. The guards were about her size, though when she expanded her wings, she cut a much more imposing figure than either of them. Kari showed off her pearly-white teeth. “I’m not a half-breed.”

  “She got white teeth,” the other guard said, approaching. “She ain’t half-demon, she’s terra-dracon.”

  “I can see that, McKinley,” the first said with a roll of his eyes, but then he saluted Kari respectfully. “Begging your pardon, ma’am, we were just nervous what with…”

  The demonhunter waved off his apology. “No need to explain,” she said. “When a winged soldier approaches in the dark, I usually have the same reaction.”

  The guards chuckled as they waved her through the gate. “Enjoy your stay, ma’am,” they said, and Kari stepped into the city.

  As the gate closed behind her, Kari paused in the shadow of the portal, her hackles raised. She was partially shielded from the increasing beat of the rain, so she took a moment to search the shadows. She’d entered the temple district, but that didn’t mean she was safe. Most of the crime here was of the organized variety, true, but in the wake of a war, there was no telling how desperate even good people might have become.

  I wonder if anything’s changed about this place, she thought. She’d last set foot here in her prior life, but even two centuries ago, Kaelin Black—the Earl of Southwick County and alleged head of the Black Dragon Society—had been in power. His criminal syndicate had a reputation that stretched back into Kari’s prior life. That her deity’s priests had maintained a temple to Law in a city of lawlessness so long was a testament to their unyielding will, just like their lord, Zalkar.

  Kari looked down the long main avenue of the district, and the well-kept facades of the temples stood proudly on both sides of the road. Eternal flames stood in crackling vigil on each of the front terraces, illuminating the white-washed walls and the carved symbols of the deities. Kari considered going to the temple immediately, but she wanted to be clean and presentable first. The last few weeks coming down out of the mountains hadn’t afforded her much time for taking care of hygiene, and demonhunter or not, she didn’t want to show up in her deity’s temple filthy.

  She cast one last appraising look down the streets that ran along the outer walls of the city. There was no trouble in sight, but likewise no inns, so she walked up the main road. She passed the temples, the places of worship dark and quiet within as evening settled and meditations began. It was strange to feel isolated and alone in the middle of a temple district, but she did, and in a city like Barcon, that was far from pleasant.

  The temple road ended at another, and a neat and clean inn stood directly across the way. There was a sign hanging over the front porch, where several older humans sat smoking pipes as they watched the growing intensity of the rain. The sign was emblazoned with a golden axe coated in black blood and read The Bloodied Blade.

  Glad to find an inn dedicated to Garra Ktarra, the god of explorers, Kari nodded to the humans on the porch as they regarded her curiously. She knew it was because of the wings, but soon enough they went back to smoking their pipes. Kari entered the warm interior and tucked her wings to her back. Not quite a dozen patrons looked up to mark her briefly before they returned to their mugs or conversations. The clientele was completely human, and Kari took a moment to remind herself that Barcon was a primarily human town. She wiped her wet feet on the rug by the door and proceeded toward the bar.

  An older, slightly portly human pulled up a tankard and began polishing it as Kari approached, and he marked her with a mostly neutral expression. Once she sat down on one of the high stools before him, he hung the towel over his shoulder and placed the mug down in front of her. He was of fair complexion; the humans of the southern region didn’t have much in the way of skin color, though no one did when compared to her ebon skin. “What’ll it be?” he asked.

  Kari ran a hand back through her damp hair and sighed. “I’ll need a room for at least the night, and I’d love a warm bath and a double-godhammer for right now,” she said.

  She produced a gold coin from her belt purse, set it down, and pushed it toward the innkeeper, but was surprised when he pushed it back her way. “I’m not a half-demon,” she clarified. The declaration drew interested gazes from the other patrons again momentarily.

  The barkeep laughed. “Figured that much,” he said with a nod, and he pointed at the dog tags that still hung over Kari’s breastplate. “Don’t see many half-demon demonhunters. But your coin is no good here.” He reached under the counter and produced a long, slender iron key. “The inn’s empty right now. Most folks that have been holed up here in recent months have begun making their way home, what with the war finally being over. You can have the master suite, up the stairs at the end of the hallway. I’ll have Millie fix you a hot bath.”

  “Thank you,” Kari said. The barkeep pulled up a glass from under the counter to replace the tankard and began mixing her beverage. It wasn’t unusual for the common folk to provide basic goods and services to demonhunters free of charge, but Kari found it surprising that the barkeep could afford to do so right after the war, which had no doubt hurt the man’s business.

  She glanced around the commons one more time. Normally, she’d have put her dog tags away when walking the streets of this sort of city. As often as not, they attracted more attention from thieves and street toughs than they let her avoid. Turning back to the barkeep, she asked, “You got a name?”

  The man fixed her with a curious gaze before the smile returned to his face. “David Marrack,” he said. “Folks around here just call me Dave. Welcome to The Bloodied Blade. Forgive my manners, it’s been an interesting week in the city. I was just trying to figure out your accent—it’s new to my ears, and these ears are pretty old. Had ‘em all my life.”

  Kari chuckled. “Solaris, over on Terrassia,” she said, and the barkeep acknowledged his surprise with an appreciative nod. “I was born and raised on Terrassia. Only came over here to Askies to attend the Academy at DarkWind and more recently for the war.”

  Dave fixed her with another curious stare, and as he put the finishing touches on Kari’s potent drink, he slid it toward her. “If you’ll forgive my saying so, ma’am, you look a tad young to have attended the Academy and fought in the war.”

  Kari couldn't argue that but didn't feel like explaining. “It’s a long story,” she said. “And if you don’t mind, I’d like to take my drink up to my room and bathe now.”

  “Not at all; I’ll send Millie up with the hot water right away,” David said, and he turned toward the door to the back room.

  The demonhunter rose and made her way to the stairs, and she marked well the eyes of the other patrons as they followed her. These weren’t the eyes of criminals or threats, but they were annoying in a different sense. People saw the wings and solid black coloration and assumed she was a half-demon. When it came to light that she was not only terra-dracon but also a demonhunter, the suspicions and hostility usually swung to trust and a
dmiration.

  You’d think I’d be used to it after thirty-five years, she thought. But then again, does anyone ever get used to it?

  The first sip of her potent drink went down like liquid fire, and she let out a contented sigh as she reached the top of the stairs and went to her room.

  Her room was well-furnished, extravagant for an inn, and best of all, it had a private tub. Kari took only the time to cross the room to the double window that looked out over the edge of the bazaar, the neighboring shops, and the eastern part of the city. There was no easy way for anyone to climb to and through it, so after a moment, Kari closed the drapes.

  Kari placed her traveling pack and cloak in the armoire. She took another sip of her drink, its numbing effect beginning to loosen up her sore muscles, and then placed it on the nightstand. She began to remove her armor and lay the pieces neatly on the floor beside the bed; she’d need to wash the entire suit later.

  Her padded shirt and pants came off next, and she tossed them along with her undergarments into a pile by the window. They were filthy, and she couldn’t suppress a grimace at how dirty she was. It was excusable only because she’d spent the previous couple of weeks coming down out of the mountains and through the riverless portion of the southern forest. Indeed, the only washing she received in those weeks was from the autumn rainfall, which was neither sufficient nor pleasant. She stood naked and impatient as she waited for Millie to deliver the hot water for her bath, and rubbed her grimy arms as she approached the bathtub, only to find there was already water in it.

  It was nearly half full and only lukewarm, but after laying her scimitars down beside it, she climbed in, lay back on the angled end, and put her feet up. A knock came at the door before an elder human woman approached and smiled at her. She handed the demonhunter a bar of soap and then poured a bucket of hot water into the tub, and Kari swirled her hands around to mix in the warmth. After staring at Kari for a moment, Millie walked over and retrieved the drink off the nightstand, placing it on the floor beside the tub.

  “Would you like more hot water?” Millie asked, the southern accent much homier and charming when combined with the sweet voice of the older woman.

  Kari looked the human woman over briefly and didn’t miss the stare she was receiving in return. Among the rir, nudity was neither taboo nor shameful, but it was something humans still found curious and awkward, even after three thousand years of assimilation. Millie was studying Kari carefully, and the terra-dracon woman accepted it as the curiosity of a human who probably rarely saw rir in the inn, let alone in the bathtub.

  “Just to rinse, and a couple of towels and a scrub brush if you have one,” Kari replied at last. “Wings are a pain to wash, you know?”

  “Of course, m’lady,” Millie said and departed.

  Kari rolled her eyes. How would she know?

  She began washing in earnest. The soap was smooth and fruity, and soon the smell of sweat and weeks on the road began to be replaced by something lady-like. She almost laughed at that; she’d always considered herself closer to being one of the boys than a lady, and her muscular build usually gave others the same impression. Kari stood up so she could properly wash her tail and backside, grimacing again.

  Could be that’s why I have no family.

  Washing her mane, she used her small claws to untangle what knots she could before taking a brush to it. While she let the soap settle on her scalp, she reached over the side and picked up her drink, and she finished it in a single, long swallow before placing the glass back down on the floor. There was something to that, something she knew should worry her, but for now, relaxed as she was, she let the feeling pass.

  Millie returned with towels, a scrub brush, and a bucket of water for rinsing. Kari wasn’t sure whether to make an effort to cover herself as she stood there, but ultimately, she decided against it. There was a moment where the human woman simply stared at her, but it was a stare Kari was used to: the one that said the person was impressed by her muscular build and chiseled stomach. Kari reached to take the brush from the human woman, but Millie walked behind the demonhunter, took up the soap, and began to gently lather and scrub the backsides of Kari’s wings.

  “Thank you,” Kari said, a bit stunned, and she took up the bucket of water to rinse her hair. She stood still while the human washed her wings, and then Millie left to get some final rinse water.

  Kari sank back down into the tub but made sure to keep her hair outside, and she scrubbed the insides of her wings. Being clean made her feel like a woman, but that thought brought with it the reminder that she was a lonely woman, with no home or family, and she wondered where her assignment would take her.

  And then her thoughts turned to him: Brigadier General Kris Jir’tana, who’d made no secret of his attraction to her throughout the eight years they worked together in the war. Why did he disappear so suddenly after the war, when she was finally ready to consider courtship? Why had her refusal to be intimate in the middle of a war surprised him?

  Kari sighed, closed her eyes, and rested her head against the warming metal of the tub. Why am I in this position again? Didn’t I already give the gods a lifetime of service? Didn’t I earn that rest in that place of warmth and sunshine, apart from the struggles and pains of this life?

  Kari shifted as her blood began to simmer. What right did Trigonh have to rip me away from there, just to come back and fight in another war? And now I’m stuck in another lonely life on the road for who knows how long? What right did he have—what right did the gods have to let him bring me back against my will because he loves me?

  The alcohol settled in deeper, warming her blood even further, but Kari shook off the anger that gripped her. She wiggled her numbing toes in the water and forced a giggle, but the amusement didn’t soothe the ache in her heart or the uncertainty of her future. She’d been lucky enough to survive the war, but now only days after, she was about to be assigned to another dangerous hunt that could cost her her life. She wouldn’t mind returning to that place of warmth and comfort, but she remembered dying. It had been a slow, rotting death that took twenty-seven years to come to fruition, and though she was with friends when it finally came, it was something she had faced alone.

  Alone.

  The demonhunter sighed again, and she held her dog tags up to read their inscription: Karian Vanador, Shield of the Heavens, T03172849. Was that the entirety of what she was to her own deity? Why did the thought of serving a higher power not bring her comfort? Why did she feel apart from him, from his church and his power, when as a demonhunter she was supposed to be an extension of his right hand, his justice, and his mercy?

  She closed her eyes and shook away the thoughts. I need to stop thinking like this. If the Unyielding gets the impression I’m falling apart, I won’t even have a job—and that’s all I have at this point. I’m just… I’m so tired. I’m sure Zalkar understands.

  Millie returned with two more buckets of warm water in her left hand, and another drink in her right. “Something about you seemed off, so I thought maybe another drink would help you relax. It’s just not right for a pretty thing like you to look so out of sorts,” she said. She set the buckets beside the tub and handed Kari the drink.

  “Pretty?” Kari repeated hesitantly. She’d never considered herself pretty, but to be called so by a human was even more unusual. Though the two species assimilated easily and got on well, they were still vastly different in terms of physical attractiveness.

  “Och, don’t kid yourself, girl. You’re gorgeous,” Millie answered with a sincere smile. She looked about the room when Kari blushed. “Did you finish your wings, or can I help you rinse off? And would you like me to clean your clothes and your armor?”

  “Wings are done,” the demonhunter replied, and she stood up once more. “Would love help with everything else. I have to warn you though: My clothes are gross.”

  “I wash the linens here,” Millie said. “Dirt and sweat are nothing new to me.” She helped Kari rinse and dry herself, and then she gathered up the dirty clothes and armor as she prepared to leave. “My word, this armor is light. Is this paluric?”