Free Book of Kinsey: Dark Fate (The Dark Fate Chronicles 2) by Matt Howerter, Jon Reinke

sharp against the muddled snarling of the wargs and the harsh cursing voices of the goblin riders. Screams and yelps of pain battered his ears.
    Still, Zeke did not turn. Desperate, he pounded on the symbols. A deep click sounded and a half circle of shadow was carved into the stone as the hatch edged open.
    Yes! Zeke thought. The heavy disk swung smoothly and quickly as he threw himself against its weight. He stepped into the short pocket of stone that was revealed beyond and glanced down into the smooth hole that dropped away into the dark beyond the slanting rays of the sun above. Satisfied, Zeke fumbled at his belt for his own iron-studded cudgel and began to turn back to help his brothers.
    The sudden impact of a goblin’s bolt threw Zeke forward. He cried out and stumbled into the passage as pain burned through his shoulder. The cudgel he had drawn rattled on the ground near the entrance. Off balance and distracted by pain, Zeke fell into the open hole. His flailing hand snagged a passing iron rung that had been hammered into the shear stone wall, and his body slammed into the other rungs as his momentum came to a joint-wrenching halt. Pain registered all along his body where the rungs had slammed into him. He blinked back the stars in his vision and scrambled until his feet found purchase.
    A high and desperate scream that was no goblin came from above. Fain’s unmistakable voice rose in a cry of fury, telling Zeke which of his brothers had fallen. His heart trembled against the loss, and fresh tears came unbidden from his eyes. Gotta collapse the tunnel, gotta get away. Zeke ignored the ache of his heart and the throbbing agony in his shoulder to make his way down the ladder.
    Once his hard-soled boots landed on the tunnel floor, Zeke was off at a run. His eyes adapted to the darkness around him as he ran. Ahead, the flickering glow of torchlight glimmered on the moist walls and beckoned him north.
    Dagda watch over ya, ma brothers, he prayed as he ran, fighting back the pain of his shoulder and the bruising of his ribs from the ladder rungs. Mal was not only a talented scout, he was also a ferocious fighter. If he truly had fallen, and Fain with him, the burden of alerting the nation was Zeke’s and Zeke’s alone.
    The sounds of battle had receded as he ran. Shortly it was only the pounding of his boots, the rattle and rustle of his clothing, and his ragged panting that filled his ears.
    Zeke tried to focus on what it was he must say when he reached Mozil. It was well known that the goblinoids were restless. The tribes of the wildmen had been flushed out of their borderlands and had created all types of trouble for the northern lands. Even with the rumors and the stories told by fleeing tribesmen and the encounters with bands of hobgoblin raiders, no one truly understood or appreciated the magnitude of what was coming. At least, no one had known until he and his brothers had crouched on the eastern ridge and watched a seemingly endless procession of goblins, hobgoblins, ogres, and beasts boil by along the southern shores of Long Lake.
    That had been two days ago. They had been on the run ever since.
    Urged on by the growing light, Zeke came to a stumbling halt at a widening of the passage where three tunnels came together. The passage to his left led back to Mozil and safety, the passage to the right to another section of the southern Dales. He hesitated under the flickering glow and craned his head back to peer at his wounded shoulder. A black, twisted shaft protruded from the blood-soaked and torn fabric of his shirt. “I hate bein’ shot,” he muttered.
    A carved pocket in the walls of stone housed three large handles suspended from the ceiling. Each lever would collapse the roof of one of the passages.
    Zeke stepped up to the middle lever and placed his hands upon it. Thoughts of Fain came to his mind as his fingers wrapped around the smooth wood. He stood motionless for a moment, thinking on his oldest