The Secrets of the Moonstone Heir by A. R. Cook

Author:A. R. Cook [Cook, A. R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-04-10T22:00:00+00:00

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It was night when the procession reached a place unlike Desert Rain had ever seen. They were greeted by immense twisted spires that gnarled up towards the violet sky. Through the rotten colors infecting these spires, she could still see the painted designs belonging to what were once Ulomin’s great towers. The stone street before them curled and swirled in the

oddest way, and along the street were the contorted remains of what used to be merchant stalls. Not a single street torch-post was lit, and not a single soul was to be found. Desert Rain glanced at the stalls as she passed by, spotting broken jars, cups, torn fabrics, and shattered glass wind chimes among the shelves and ground.

“Great gurglin’ swamp muck-kk,” Mac said. “This is the kind of mess-ssck happening in Syphurius.”

The travelers were silent, glancing about anxiously. The large green pavilion of the main plaza had imploded, bending and stretched tightly so now it stood like a crescent sickle, casting

its grim shadow down on them. Despite this ominous structure, the group decided to camp in the plaza for the night.

A traveler in a brown hooded cloak coaxed a weak fire to life with two flint stones and some brittle brush and dry grass. Desert Rain sat down next to Mac and Kurl and watched the hooded figure at work. She was obviously female from the style of cloak, and by the light-weight model of warhammer strapped to her back. Typically, female soldiers did not choose the warhammer as a weapon, but for the few who did, the light model was customarily used. Desert Rain could not check the woman’s hands for “warrior’s badges” – calluses, bruises and scars –for they were concealed inside leather gloves.

“Where do you think all the Ulomin folk-kk have gone to?” Mac whispered to Desert Rain.

“I can’t say…perhaps they went north towards the mountains. I hope they’re all right.” Desert Rain hugged her knees to her chest, staring at the fire.

“I’m sure they are,” Mac replied, patting Desert Rain’s shoulder. “But now we need to be worrying about-tkk ourselves.”

Desert Rain nodded, and returned to quiet contemplation. How much of what Katawa had told her was true, about his own clan trying to destroy him? If he was so dangerous as that, and he had been running free in Luuva Gros long before he lost his memory, why was this the first time he was causing havoc? There was no history of Distortion curses anywhere in Luuva Gros, from what she knew. Katawa was using an excessive display of his powers—to try to lure out Swordmaster Skyhan, she figured—but it did not seem logical to ruin Ulomin to get the Knight’s attention. Ulomin was too secluded for word of its disaster to spread quickly—she wouldn’t be surprised if these Syphurian refugees were the first to find out about Ulomin’s condition.

Suddenly, the cloaked woman called out, “Who in the damn Eternal Deep are you?”

The words were directed towards a silhouette that had appeared outside the circle of refugees, far enough away that its features weren’t revealed by the campfire’s light.

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