Free Tides of Blood and Steel by Christian Warren Freed

throne. Skuld recognized that his life was meant to be filled with hardship and pain. He sank to his knees, unwilling to fight any longer. Tears flowed freely.
    “Please,” he begged.
    A dull groan broke his moment of self-indulgence. A spark. It hadn’t occurred to him that he hadn’t bothered to actually look for Anienam yet. Skuld forced himself back to his feet. The wizard was alive!
    He shouted, “Anienam!”
    Another groan, somewhat louder, answered him. Skuld pushed his way frantically through the debris. He needed a sign, just a scrap of cloth. Hope found its way back into his weary heart and he desperately clung to it. His efforts soon paid off when he stumbled on Anienam’s prone body. A rotted log lay across the old man’s legs.
    “Anienam, you’re alive.”
    “Of course I am,” he replied weakly. “Help me move this log.”
    Skuld bent down and gathered what remained of his strength. The log didn’t budge. “It is too heavy.”
    “You can do this, Skuld. Besides, there is no one else. Roll it off me if you must.”
    Skuld cringed. Visions of breaking bones danced in his eyes. Strengthening his resolve, the boy bunched his muscles and went back at it. Sweat dripped into his eyes, streaking the dust coating his face. His efforts were rewarded. The log rolled away. Anienam was freed. Skuld collapsed beside him.
    “Thank you, my boy.”
    He tried to smile. “Anienam, why didn’t you use your magic?”
    The look he got in return was one of mild surprise, or perhaps just diversion. “Magic? Oh yes, I suppose I could have. Seems that bump on my head rattled my brain a little.”
    Skuld was too exhausted to think further on it. He also failed to notice the appraising look Anienam gave him.
    “Is there another way out of here?” he asked.
    The boy thought. “There is another tunnel snaking through the back, unless the cave-in collapsed that one as well. Do you still have the book?”
    He wasn’t sure why he asked that question. Before the collapse it hadn’t felt like it was any of his business. Something had changed. The thought was disturbing and oddly comforting. Skuld felt a part of something more than himself again. Relief washed over him when he watched Anienam pat the tattered leather pouch around his shoulder.
    “Right here. All safe and sound,” he said. “Let us be gone from this place. The others will already be at the rendezvous.” If they still lived .
    They moved in single file. Anienam insisted on Skuld going first, claiming implicit trust in the youth. The going was tough. Much of the tunnel network had collapsed and was in complete disrepair. Skuld went as fast as he felt was safe. Subconsciously he tried to take account of Anienam’s age and injuries and forced himself to move slower than he wanted. Desperation crept back into the corners of his mind. The walls pressed closer. The ceiling dropped lower. It was all he could do to maintain control.
    “How much further do you think?” Anienam asked to keep Skuld focused.
    His personal concern went well beyond the traditional boundaries of their safety. Every moment they delayed gave their enemy another chance at final victory. He’d cursed himself a dozen times over for his inability to see the involvement of the Dae’shan for what it was. Arrogance led him to believe that the emissaries of the dark gods were extinct. He foolishly thought that they’d been defeated and Malweir was finally free from their influences. Wrong. Now entire kingdoms suffered for his mistakes.
    Skuld didn’t really have an answer. Instead he focused on the conversation. Otherwise he feared the dark would crush him. “Shouldn’t be much longer as long as the tunnels haven’t completely collapsed.”
    “Leave that to me.”
    The street thief cracked a smile. Anienam had a way of relaxing him, of setting his fears aside and introducing calm.
    “What part of the city are we beneath?” Anienam asked.
    A good question. It had been a long time since