The Actions of Gods (The Spark City Cycle Book 4) by Robert J Power

Author:Robert J Power [Power, Robert J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: DePaor Press
Published: 2024-02-28T00:00:00+00:00

64

INTO THE FOREST

Magnus rubbed at his knee as though it would take away some of the pain. It didn’t, but he was distracted for a few breaths from the pulsing shards of agony shooting through his thigh and beyond. These last few weeks, he’d felt stronger on his injured knee, but his fingers shook uncontrollably, and he dearly wanted to stretch out in a bed of silk or even straw and soothe those aches with a long rest in peace and darkness. Instead, he was counting down the moments before marching once more.

And then a strange thing happened. The absent gods took pity on him for a breath; there came the low rumble of carts from the settlement—four in total, all driven by four large mounts. The carts themselves were empty but for two long benches at each edge. They were the types of carts used for transporting workers to work on a massive machine of doom.

Workers… and foolish legends seeking immortality.

Edain was not present this early in the morning. No doubt she was sleeping off the long night before.

“Fine warriors, all of you,” Gregor called out. He was back upon his mount with the sun behind him, and gazing upon him caused Magnus’s eyes to water and sting. Gregor looked as tired as the rest of his comrades and the rest of the competitors. The new king would do well to reward them all for their diligence in tormenting them. Such dedication was a rarity. They had lasted while most others had faltered. “You have earned a reprieve. I suggest you take what rest you can,” continued Gregor as the carts rolled up close and drew to a halt. A weary guard opened the back of each one and invited all aboard.

Magnus wasted no time. He sprinted to the furthest cart, leapt in, and slid up to the front, where he dropped his head into his hands, suddenly overcome by fatigue. He’d tried and failed to fall asleep in the hour or so since the event had ended, such was the adrenaline pumping through his body. Immediately, his shadow sat down beside him. Unlike Magnus, Padir had slept the hour right through. He looked far fresher than the rest of the competitors climbing aboard. Following him was Sloan. Like Padir, he’d spent the previous hour wisely. There was strapping around his knee, and though he could probably walk unaided, he carried a makeshift crutch and leaned on it heavily as he took a seat beside the woman sitting opposite Magnus. A strange thing, thought Magnus, that Sloan had left his supporters behind to take this place. Perhaps his injuries had led them to believe his star was dwindling to nothing. Or perhaps he desired to be protected by Magnus in the trials ahead. Perhaps he just fancied that particular seat. Regardless, he dropped his head into his hands as Magnus had, his mind, no doubt, consumed by regret and bitterness.

“How’s the knee?” Magnus asked, as the remaining competitors climbed aboard the carts.

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