Free Etchings of Power (Aegis of the Gods) by Terry C. Simpson, D Kai Wilson-Viola, Gonzalo Ordonez Arias Page A

by the Svenzar is due. Your choice to protect Carnas will be even more difficult.”
    “I haven’t forgotten. You know as well as I do that if the summons comes, I will have to answer.” Ryne’s fist clenched on the litter as he sifted through his meager choices. “Being bound to their gods’ wills is not something to be ignored. Besides, in the thirty years doing as they bid, I’ve made greater strides to control my fate than I ever have since I awoke. Seventy years, Sakari. Seventy, since I woke to your face with only the knowledge of my name and how to use these Scripts. I don’t see myself giving up the chance to discover who I am, why I exist, and why this craving still smolders within me.”
    “Not even if it means Carnas will have to do without your protection?”
    “When the answers could provide me with the chance to save the village? Yes. Maybe I’m growing old, but the suffering I’ve caused weighs on me a little more every day. I would rather stay here and live my days in peace than to spread death as I have in the past. If the Sevnzar have the answers to such a path as they promised, then I’ll ask the questions and pay whatever price is necessary.” Ryne waved the lamp around to his left as the slinking noises of the lapras drew nearer before they dwindled under the light.
    “Sometimes the cost is more than a person can bear,” Sakari said.
    Kahkon coughed and spat up blood. They stopped and set down the litter. Ryne stood guard with the lamp held out as Sakari bent to tend to the boy. Around them came the crunching tread of paws on fallen branches and leaves, the snap of small twigs, the swish of leaves brushing against fur. The sounds were nothing more than a soft susurrus. But they numbered in the hundreds. Ryne picked out as many as twenty svelte forms slinking through the woods and brush. Could Mariel really be in control of these beasts?
    A slight breeze swirled just then. With it rose the rank smell of lapras. The lamp’s flame flickered, causing the shadows to bob and caper.
    Sakari straightened until he stood as silent as their surroundings that was suddenly vacant of the night time noises of its normal denizens. His eyes glinted like polished silversteel as he peered around them. “How far until the Fretian ends?”
    “A few thousand feet.”
    The forest lapras began the low crooning they used when they called to other packs. The hair at the back of Ryne’s neck stood on end. Wails answered in several directions, some ahead along the dark path. By Ryne’s count, there had to be at least five packs, which meant more than thirty lapras.
    “Sakari, do you think you could—”
    “I’ve already tried. These beasts are not responding to me. Fresh blood has driven them past the point of control.”
    “So it’s not her doing?” Ryne turned quickly to follow the sound of padded footsteps. The brush rustled nearby before settling.
    “No. She could not control this many creatures, no matter what anyone claimed they saw.” Sakari gripped his scabbard. “Take the boy. I have tied off the wounds so they should not bleed much, if at all.” Sakari looked up through the branches above them. “When the clouds clear the moons…” He drew his sword.
    Ryne nodded and set down the lamp. He bent and gathered Kahkon’s ragged form in the crook of his left arm, tucking him against his side.
    The rustles among the brush grew more purposeful. The lamplight played along the ground with its own life, elongating the shadows into looming black creatures that attempted to swallow the already dim radiance. Among those shadows, the forest lapras flitted back and forth.
    The clouds began to drift by the moons.
    Sakari snatched the lamp up and fled down the path. With his sudden movement came yowls and snarls.
    Ryne followed, not looking back to see what the noises meant. The lamp’s luminescent pool bobbed and dipped as they bolted for the forest’s edge. Ryne kept Kahkon hugged close to minimize the