Daughter of Ashes Read online

  Legends of Tirum

  Book One

  Daughter of Ashes

  By

  Esther Mitchell

  This work is copyright 2010 by Esther Mitchell

  Legends of Tirum

  Book One: Daughter of Ashes

  COMING SOON

  Book Two: Phoenix Rising

  Other Books By Esther Mitchell

  PROJECT PROMETHEUS

  Book One: In Her Name

  Book Two: Hope of Heaven

  Book Three: Shadow Walker

  COMING SOON

  Book Four: Blood Debt

  Book Five: Between Worlds

  GUARDIANS, INC: WITCH HOLLOW

  Book One: Sight Unseen

  Book Two: Up In Flames

  COMING SOON

  Book Three: Nick of Time

  HANOVER INVESTIGATIONS

  Book One: Burden of Proof

  COMING SOON

  Book Two: Silent Night

  UNDERGROUND

  Book One: Tamia

  Book Two: Mind Killer

  Book Three: Terminal Hunter

  Book Four: Hero's Hope

  Book Five: Vengeful Heart

  COMING SOON

  Book Six: Deadly Designs

  FyrRose Productions.

  637 S. Cynthia Avenue

  Tucson AZ 85710

  http://www.esthermitchell.com

  Copyright © 2010 by Esther Mitchell

  ISBN: KDP Provides

  Published in the United States of America

  Publication Date: August 1, 2019

  Editor: Gail R. Delaney

  Cover Artist: Jenifer Ranieri

  Cover Art Copyright by FyrRose Productions © 2018

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information retrieval and storage system without permission of the publisher.

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  Pirating of eBooks is illegal. Criminal Copyright Infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, may be investigated by the Federal Bureau of Investigation and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of up to $250,000.

  Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination, or are used in a fictitious situation. Any resemblances to actual events, locations, organizations, incidents or persons – living or dead – are coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.

  Dedication and Acknowledgement

  To my friend and editor, Gail Delaney: Thank you for being my sounding board, cheerleader, and voice of reason.

  To my friend and cover artist, Jenifer Ranieri: Thank you for putting up with my weirdness, and for the beautiful, awe-inspiring work you do to make my books as beautiful on the outside as I hope they are on the inside.

  To my soul mate and love of my life, for giving me the courage to follow my dreams, and for loving me when I couldn't love myself. I love and miss you every day.

  To all those still searching for their destiny, never stop looking.

  Prologue

  Telyn Gwndal stared into the impassive face of GarMistress Lanoki Llyn-Gild, her disbelief and horror growing as the mercury-eyed GarMistress' words sank in. This new assignment had all the makings of a nightmare.

  "Raiador? I can't go to Raiador!" Telyn finally spluttered, knowing it was a waste of breath to argue with Lanoki.

  "Your personal biases are immaterial." Lanoki dismissed her argument with a wave of one capable hand, brushing back a wayward strand of closely cropped dark hair in the same motion. "Master Brun-Gild has suffered raiding by the Bathron before. He knows whether he needs a Gildgard, and he sent for one. I decided that the Minanx Camp needs someone who knows both the Bathron and the area. That Gildgard is you. Master Brun-Gild is concerned..."

  "The only things Brun-Gild cares about are those damned faíle." Old hostility roiled in Telyn's chest at the repeated mention of her old master. "He doesn't care about the Miners, the mountain, or the damned Bathron. Just the stones. He wants someone who will blindly follow his orders."

  Lanoki's expression remained unyielding. "Which you'll do if the situation merits. Frankly, Sera Telyn, I'm surprised at this childish display from you. I thought the impertinent child I found six cycles ago had finally grown up. Apparently, I was wrong. I don't want to hear another word about this. You are going."

  "Mistress Lanoki, please..."

  "I said not another word, Sera Telyn. Go."

  "But you don't understand!" Panic wound through Telyn like a serpent, and she struggled desperately for reprieve. "It's dangerous. I was a Miner. I've touched the Dorfaíle before. They do something to me, just being near them. If I have to touch one again--"

  "Then you will. Remember your oath, Telyn. The Gildgard must place the safety of the Gild above comfort, or even life. You are under bond, and I selected you for this duty. Now go and do as you're commanded."

  With that, Lanoki waved a hand dismissively, a signal any further argument would go unheard. Telyn, her jaw locked in fury, spun on her heel and stormed from the GarMistress' pristine chambers.

  In the courtyard outside, Telyn's close friend, Sera Rylan Cora-Gild, slouched against the wall, twirling her bola nonchalantly. As Telyn emerged from the building, Rylan stopped, and uncoiled her long, wiry frame as a wry grin inched across her widely spaced features.

  "Madama Harpy strikes again, eh, Lyn?" She jerked her chin the way Telyn had come, clearly referring to Lanoki's shrill voice -- often piercing enough to wake the dead.

  Telyn glowered at her friend. "She's sending me to Raiador."

  Rylan's green eyes went wide in disbelief, and her teasing grin vanished. "You're jinking me!"

  "I wish I was," Telyn muttered, shoving an errant lock of tawny hair from her face. She still couldn't believe it. Sinking down beside the Garda's fishpond, she sighed. "I don't think she really understands what happened."

  "How could she? She hasn't been to Raiador, like you and I have," Rylan pointed out. "But she's a good Mistress, and she has a lot of great intentions. She believes she's doing what's best for the House. That's her duty, Lyn."

  Telyn snorted in response as she regarded her reflection in the water. Moon pale skin, even after cycles of wandering in the Endland Wastes, glared beneath the midday sun, and limp, tawny hair fluttered against her leather-clad shoulders as a soft breeze stirred it. Who was this woman? Take away the leather armor, and she didn't even resemble a warrior. Her features were too evenly spaced and delicate -- a combination more than one prospective employer declared meant she was too softhearted for combat, over the cycles. Then there were her accursed lavender eyes, glowing dully here in the daylight, which would grow bright come nightfall. Foreign eyes that marked her as a pariah -- the half-breed bastard of a hated enemy. What did she even know of duty?

  "Do I even know that word?" She murmured, more to herself than to Rylan. "I keep hearing it, but I'm not sure what everyone means by it. It sounds so empty, so trivial. It means nothing to me."

  Rylan reached to lay one slim, callused hand on Telyn's shoulder. "We've been friends for cycles, Lyn, and I know you're still torn up inside over what happened with your parents. You didn't come here by choice, and I know you feel like an outsider forced to live by someone else's rules." She squeezed Telyn's shoulder sympathetically. "But the only thing that matters is that you were chosen by the ana
queri, which means you have a good heart and a clear mind. So use them."

  Bitterness clenched in Telyn's chest. She hadn't been happy, or felt she truly belonged, since she left Dariadus' camp. Nevertheless, Rylan was right, an anaqueri chose her -- a high honor by anyone's standards.

  The anaqueri were a race of sentient metal blades, as deadly as they were unbreakable. They were said to know the mind and heart of any living being upon contact, and would only bond with the most honorable of warriors, since the bond, once established, could never be broken. The Gild exploited this bond to choose their Household guards. The underground cavern home of the anaqueri was now the property of the Gild's Fighting Cloister, and the GarMistresses monitored their distribution jealously.

  However, the anaqueri, as with any living thing, acknowledged no laws but Nature's and their own. They bonded with whom they willed, when and where they willed. Telyn's anaqueri found her in the Endland Wastes after she ran away from the mines, no home or hope left. She didn't know there was anything special about the sharp blade she found and used for survival; nor did she give it even a passing thought for the following thirteen cycles. Then, by ill chance, GarMistress Lanoki stumbled upon her in the markets of the Gild capitol, Colandra. Soon after, the House of Gild claimed her life again, this time blood-bonding her, without choice, to the Fighting Cloister.

  The long, capable fingers of Telyn's right hand absently brushed the scar on her left wrist. She could see its shape -- that accursed seven-pointed star -- without even looking down. It haunted her dreams, burned into the backs of her eyelids as surely as it was carved into her flesh. The mark of the Gildgard.

  "Do the nightmares ever go away?" The query emerged a whisper, not really seeking an answer. Telyn drew a deep breath as she covered the mark with her right hand and tried to will it, and its responsibilities, away.

  Rylan sighed heavily. "Not after Raiador. Not for you." She forced a smile, then. "Try to think of the honor, Lyn. You get to defend one of the most prestigious operations in the world."

  "There's no honor at Raiador." Pain seared Telyn, as hellish memories of a childhood enslaved by a cruel and manipulative man rose up to torment her. "Raiador's Dorfaíle may be among the most prized gemstones in the world, but they've always been my curse."

  "Listen to me, Lyn." Rylan grasped Telyn by the shoulders and gave her a stern shake. "You have to stop thinking about that. You were a Miner, you knew the secret of collecting the Dorfaíle, and you were exposed to that Majik every day. Not everyone can handle all of that. Why else do you think you're immune to Majik now? You burnt it all out, back there. I'll bet you won't even feel anything when you go back."

  Hope tightened around her throat, and she prayed her friend was right. She needed Rylan to be right. "You really think so?"

  Rylan nodded. "Definitely."

  Chapter One

  The hooves of her liver-roan stallion, Bloodcloud, picked out a lively cadence over the worn stones of the cobbled path. His neck arched against the tight reins holding him from full gallop, and he voiced his displeasure in sharp huffs of air. Telyn sighed her own impatience as she stared toward the white motes of the light winking like firebugs in the distance. She recognized their dance only too well. Miners wove between the ominous shadow of Mount Raiador and the Minanx Camp, burdened with their precious cargo of Dorfaíle. Once upon a time, that dance owned her, and those memories still had the power to terrify her.

  Although she wasn't close enough yet to breathe the sulfuric stench hovering over Raiador, feel the prickling burn of the constant clouds of settling ash, or even make out more than the dark outlines of distant buildings and the massive bulk of the mountain itself, Telyn knew Brun-Gild's Camp still hadn't changed in the nearly twenty cycles she was gone. Only the mountain itself would ever change. According to the Gild AlcheMasters, Raiador was the only naturally volcanic mountain on all of Ravenos. There were other volcanoes -- the byproduct of the Great War of Majiks -- but they were active and perfectly predictable by Majikal means. By contrast, Raiador had been dormant for centuries, its destructive force channeled into a much less violent form: the Dorfaíle. Because of those firestones, Raiador was often the focus of fighting between the House of Gild and their ancient rival, the Bathron.

  Telyn sighed heavily as she guided Bloodcloud along the path. To her dismay, she shared blood with both sides of the age-old feud. Because of her blood, she endured both the incredulity and mocking of the Gild, who couldn't understand how one of their own had Bathron eyes, and the scornful appraisal of the Bathron, who couldn't conceive of how a Clan heir had Gild coloring. Telyn didn't fully understand it, either. It might have helped if her mother talked about it more. Of course, if Mistress Gwneth Cryd-Gild was more open with her only child, Telyn might have avoided cycles of torture at Raiador, too. She sighed regretfully. Though of Gild lineage, she couldn't bear their name alongside her own. Among the Gild, that was the ultimate insult, and for many cycles, she couldn't understand what she'd done to deserve it. Then she discovered why.

  When her mother let slip that her father was Bathron, the news crushed and enraged Telyn. Burning with adolescent rage and confusion, she set out to find her father and demand the answers her mother refused to give. Instead, a passing Gildgard patrol captured her on the border and interrogated her as a spy. Her youthful insolence bought her into her purgatory of servitude under Brun-Gild, at Raiador.

  Telyn shuddered and crossed one hand over her chest in a sign against evil, even as the fiery pain of memory settled there. Raiador brought her nothing but misfortune and grief. Already, her blood thrummed with the cursed heat that heralded her approach to the fire mountain she so feared. Restless energy made her squirm in her saddle, and Bloodcloud mistook that as a command. He turned toward the trees around them, and the fields of lush grass beyond.

  Telyn blinked back to awareness, and returned the stallion to the cobbled path, earning herself a snort of disdain. She ignored him. She had more important worries, now, than the temper of a horse -- even Bloodcloud. She had to fight the fear already clawing through her like a rocrat in a mire bog. Brun-Gild could scent fear across a crowded room, and he would use hers against her at the first chance he got.

  Oh, she harbored no illusions Brun-Gild forgot her after she ran away. People whispered how Brun-Gild never forgot a face. Even if that was just rumor, she knew he would remember hers. He would be sure to recall the girl who, in a fit of uncontrollable rage, collapsed a tunnel in the deep mine, sending four of her fellow Miners to a fiery grave in the mountain's heart.

  Pain sliced through her chest again, and she knew its cause was guilt, not physical ailment. Still, she couldn't dwell on those memories, no matter how much she hated herself for those actions. If she gave in to the past now, she was as good as dead when she came face-to-face with Brun-Gild for the first time. She would need all of her strength and discipline to deal with the wily AlcheMaster. She was a Gildgard, now, and she'd do well to remember that.

  At the gates of the Minanx Camp, Telyn drew her courage a little tighter about her, and swung down from her horse to step boldly up to the Minegard. She thrust her left arm out, palm up, so that the star-shaped scar on her wrist was clearly visible in the gathering dusk.

  "I am Sera Telyn Gwndal, sent by GarMistress Lanoki Llyn-Gild for the organization of defenses at the Raiador mines." She deliberately omitted mention that Brun-Gild sent for a Gildgard, but if the Minegard noticed, he gave no sign of it.

  He snapped to attention and offered her a brisk salute, thumping his fist off his chest. "Many greetings, Sera Gwndal. You are expected within."

  Telyn returned his salute, not trusting herself to speak. She did not intend to dignify the unspoken command in those words. Instead, she led Bloodcloud around to the stable, not bothering to tell the Minegard she knew exactly how to get there. In the stable, she took her time bedding down the stallion, which he approved with a soft whicker as he lipped her shoulder. Telyn chuckled.

 
"You don't like it here either, do you, old friend?"

  He stamped one foot and tossed his head as he huffed a quiet snort of agreement, his breath rolling warmly against her arm. She ran a comforting hand down his withers as she continued to brush him down.

  "Don't fret. With any luck, we'll be out of here before dawn."

  Bloodcloud's snort of disdain wrenched a chuckle from her. He didn't believe they were that lucky, either. With a final pat for her old friend, Telyn sighed and turned toward the Camp's large, central Minanx House. No more stalling.

  With an indrawn breath for courage, she crossed the courtyard to the massive roanwood doors of the Camp's Minanx House and entered the dimly lit halls forever consigned to her nightmares. Her heart hammered in her ears, and her blood burned through her veins in painful fear. The coppery scent of her own sweat assaulted her nostrils, and she swallowed hard against rising panic. Why did this place, and this mountain, terrify her so much? She'd repressed so many memories of this place, she couldn't pin down her exact fear. Still, only by force of will did she keep her eyes forward, unwilling to look over her shoulder back across the courtyard, toward the looming shadow of Raiador. She didn't understand the terror gripping her, but she knew she could not afford to relax her guard. She was here for one purpose and one purpose only. Silently, she repeated Lanoki's favorite litany. I have a duty to my House.

  That thought fled, replaced by clawing uneasiness, as she stepped into the brighter interior of the Master's Chambers mere moments later. The scent of danger hung here, and she couldn't quite dismiss it as a trick of her mind. Swiftly, her gaze travelled the contents of the room, and the tension eased only slightly. As she suspected. Little ever changed here.