Orbs of Azure, page 1
NECROSEAM CHRONICLES
Available in eBook, Paperback, Hardcover, and Audiobook (for select titles)
Prequel 1: Princess of Shadow and Dream
Prequel 2: Princess of Grim
Book I: Willow of Ashes
Book II: Orbs of Azure
Book III: Pearl of Emerald
Book IV: Phoenix of Scarlet
Book V: Blossom of Gold
OTHER WORKS BY ELLIE RAINE
Adult
Nightingale: A Paranormal Noir
Children’s Illustration
Ballad of the Ice Fairy
Orbs of Azure
NecroSeam Chronicles | Book Two
Copyright © 2018 by Ellie Raine
Cover Design by Ellie Raine
Interior Formatting by Tamara Cribley
Author Photograph by Melissa Giles Photography
Map © 2021 Chris Seckinger
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or article.
This is a work of fiction. Concepts, Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Printed in the United States of America
ISBNs: 978-1-7320415-2-3 (Hardcover), 978-1-7320415-5-4 (Paperback), 978-1-7320415-8-5 (Ebook)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2018935665
First Printing, Edition I: 2018
Published by
ScyntheFy Press, LLC
www.ScyntheFy.com
For information about special discounts available for bulk purchases, sales promotions, fund-raising and educational needs, contact ScyntheFy Press at: www.ScyntheFy.com/contact
For special bonus features and up-to-date news, visit the official NecroSeam web site: www.NecroSeam.com
Author’s Note
Welcome back, Adventurer!
I’m delighted you decided to continue from your last save-point in the NecroSeam Chronicles. Watch your backs and take caution: the journey only grows darker from here. And if you get lost along the way, refer to the Nirussian Travel Guide in the back of this book for help.
Happy reading,
Ellie Raine
Table of Contents
Author’s Note
Prologue: Soul Survivor
1. An Unwelcome Party
2. Allies in High Places
3. A Royal Display
4. Grim Findings
5. Old Friends, New Companions
6. Raven Riot
7. A Displaced Dreamcatcher
8. Luring a Lion
9. The Relicblood Gathering
10. If It Were a Snake
11. Unveiled
12. Old Enemies
13. Devious
14. The Lost Father
15. Twin Princesses
16. Warcries
17. Lost Comrades
18. Contrived Council
19. The Siege
20. A Healer's Mission
21. Cat's in the Bag
22. Outlawed
23. A Stolen Family
24. Destination
25. Tanderam Prison
26. Foreboding
27. Refuge
28. Stalemate
29. Royal Obligations
30. Desert Days
31. Preparations
32. Blood and Water
33. Kin
34. Storming the Fortress
35. A Haunted Past
36. Desperate Measures
37. The Undead Giant
38. While We're Young
39. Neverland's Heiress
40. Do Not Annoy the Alchemist
41. Family Reunion
42. The Truth
43. A Chance For Redemption
44. Tactics and Torture
45. A Fresh Lead
46. Separate Ways
47. Out of Hiding
48. Setting Sail
49. Rotten Regrets
50. It's Never That Easy
51. Up In Flames
52. Found
53. Final Hesitation
54. A Dance of Demons
55. First Breath
56. Late Reunion
57. Caveats
58. The Archchancellor
59. Caught in the Fray
60. Familiar Faces
61. A Daunting Task
62. A New Beginning
63. Old Acquaintances
64. The Rightful Ruler
65. Dear Readers,
Book III Sneak Peek: Pearl of Emerald
Nirussian Travel Guide
Character Reference List
Nirussian World Notes
Nirussian Minerals/Technology
About the Author
“Father, I’ve found him.
Though he is not what I expected. They are not what I expected. When will they be ready? When will they fix what I’ve done…?”
—The King of Dreams, 2081 A.B.
PROLOGUE
Soul Survivor
JANSON
“Die, Gods damn it!” I ripped my scythe into the beast’s sticky chest, snapping its rotted NecroSeam. Its corpse collapsed, blackened soul evaporating in a hiss—
Another Fera tore at my wing, feathers shredded, a yell scraping my throat. More leapt at me, one biting my arm, the others thrashing my side and legs. I tried to back away, but fell into a ditch and landed hard on my wings, screaming, the demons scuttling after—
“Da’torr!” my vassal, Rossette, screamed as she spread her green wings and flew between us. She thrust her hands at the Fera, vicious bolts of lightning shooting from her fingers and splashing over two beasts with a deafening crash of thunder, throwing the slithering things over the ditch.
The remaining beast shrieked and bolted for her.
“You eez watching self, Rossette!” My second, web-eared vassal called, sprinting to Rossette’s side and swept a fogging hand at the demon. A pillar of ice crystalized from his fingers, encasing the creature in a solid, icy cage.
“Rossette…” I panted, groaning at my leaking side. “Nikolai… you should run. If you die again, I… might not… be here to resurrect you…”
“We cannot leave you to die, Da’torr!” Rossette stood her ground, she and Nikolai keeping back the demons that strayed into the ditch. “We swore to serve you to the best of our ability when we made the Bloodpact. If you stay, we stay.”
The villagers’ screams bleated over the ditch, curdled voices muffled overhead, their sobs dampened under the incessant whine in my ears. Have I lost some of my hearing?
I peered over the edge.
Those skeletal nightmares swarmed the burning valley, their skin slithering with black muck. Nira, the things were deboning villagers like feral fish in the dry glow of the fire.
My stomach churned, wanting to vomit, but I swallowed and ducked behind the rocky ditch. My palms were caked with blood, straining to keep hold of my scythe. I tried unfolding my wings, but winced as they stiffened back in place. My feathers were shredded… Flying away wasn’t an option. Rossette couldn’t lift me with her small muscles; her vessel was only a child, despite her soul’s matured age… Even if she could have lifted me, I couldn’t bring myself to leave Nikolai.
Fangs Lastings, I decided. I have to call Fangs Lastings.
I pulled out my communicator from my cloak pocket, fingers shaking as I dialed. The com’s gears warbled to life, its cogs whirring as a screen of translucent light brightened, projecting from the vision-gem embedded in the center of the discus.
The screen’s blue glow swirled in a slow, stirring motion, waiting for the other party to answer.
After a few panicked seconds, a wolf-eared man came into view in the framed light. Fangs Lastings drew back, alarmed at my grisly face.
“What in Land’s name?” Fangs Lastings muttered. “Who is this?”
I raised a charred fist to my chest in salute. “Sir Janson Stane, requesting help, sir!”
“Help with… an attack? What is your squadron number?”
“13-A!” My voice fractured. “Trixer Sye’s squad! Please, sir, I-I’m sorry for calling you directly, but I didn’t know what else to do!” I ran a bloodied arm under my nose, blinking tears. “I-I… I need help, sir. Please…”
Lastings’ brow furrowed as he shuffled through papers at his desk. “13-A… you were sent to see to that distress call in the valley.” His finger traced down the documents, then he glanced at me. “Two squads were already sent there from your sector. That much wasn’t enough?”
“They’re all dead, sir!” I choked back a sob, shivering. “I-I’m all that’s left…!”
His wolf ears dropped to his neck. “Even Trixers Sye and Flerran?”
“All of them!” My voice quaked, remembering the screams of my friends—of my Brothers. “It’s just me, now, sir! We… we weren’t prepared for this! It was an ambush! They were waiting for us…!”
Sir Lastings pushed his fists on his desk and hurriedly stood. “Are you still in the valley?”
“Y-yes, sir! And everything’s burning! The Sentient girl is a Pyrovoker. She’s not some lowly newborn either, sir, there’s something not right about her!”
“Get out of there, Dueler! If everyone’s dead, then there’s no one left for you to help.”
A cloud of smoke clung to my throat, and I coughed blood onto my tattered white sleeve. “I-I can’t move my wings, sir… And I can’t walk out there—there’s too many of them. I-it’s like she’s gathered an army.”
“How many?”
I glanced at the turmoil over the ditch, my head light as cotton. How much blood had I lost?
“Too… t-too many,” I reported. “Hundreds, maybe thousands. They’re everywhere.” My eyes stung from the smog, tears only flushing so much debris. “I… I’m going to die here, aren’t I, sir…?”
“Say that again, and I’ll pull your Skull-pins from your cloak.” He slammed an outraged hand on his desk, rattling the quill on his papers. “Your squad leader’s dead! That means you’ve been promoted to Trixer, soldier! And at your rank, you’re not allowed to give up!” His eyes flicked to my neck; to my white Death mark. “What’s your Hallows, Trixer?”
I sniffed, hitting a fist to my chest. “It-it’s death, sir!”
“Do you have any vassals who could help?”
I wiped the fallen ash from my eyes. “They’re here now, but I… I don’t know how much longer the two can hold them off. C… can you tell the others to cut my Seam when they get here, sir…?”
“Damn it, Trixer, if you say that again, I’ll demote you back to a Singer! I’m sending reinforcements your way, but you have to hold strong. Now get the Void out of—”
Someone plucked the com out from my fingers.
An adolescent boy was suddenly standing over me. His skin was coated in bronze scales, brown hair grown to his chin with blond streaks.
“These devices grow stranger by the year,” the young man hummed, firelight glinting off his half-moon eyeglasses. He tossed my com to the ground and absently scooted a severed head to the side with his boot.
He scrutinized me like a prize at an auction. “You’re all that’s left, are you?”
I shuffled back, fumbling for my scythe. “Stay back, Demon…!” There are two Sentients? But… but where was the Pyrovoker?
I stole a glance back at Rossette and Nikolai. They were focused on keeping the swarming beasts at bay, lightning and ice exploding in a chaotic frenzy. They hadn’t noticed this newcomer.
The young man gave a disgusted sneer. “Do I look like those mongrels, you featherless twit?” His gaze lifted past me. “Did you hear that, Cilia? This ingrate thinks I’m one of your witless dogs.”
A giggle bounced behind me. I spun so quickly, my eyes were late to focus.
The Pyrovoker!
The grey-haired girl crouched to meet my eyelevel and smiled. “Hello there, little bird. I seem to have missed you, haven’t I?” Her green eyes flickered, white pupils bright and gleaming. She sighed dismally. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry. I hate to leave anyone out of a game.”
She reached for me, and I cringed—
“Just a moment, Cilia.” The young man knelt to me. “This one has a Death mark. And here I was beginning to think none from this lot were worth a damn… Tell me, Reaper: What is your Hallows?”
“Go Cleanse yourself in the Void, Demon,” I spat.
He circled a finger over his temple. “This one lives to vex me… I doubt you’re an Infeciovoker. Though I suppose another fire-thrower could be sufficient.”
“Wrong,” sang the girl, skipping playfully around me. “He’s covered in burn scars. Fire cannot touch us Pyrovokers. I saw this one sewing his vassals to help, however.” She nodded to Rossette and Nikolai. “He’s a simple Necrovoker, to be sure.”
The scaled man rose. “Interesting… Still, he’ll be an imperative addition. Remember to keep his soul tied after you’re finished, Cilia.”
Her hand burst with fire. “Very well.” She smiled. “It will be curious to have a corpse-raiser with us.”
“St-stay away from me…!” I raised my scythe.
I was still losing blood, my head spinning like mad. I can’t fight like this. I-I have to get out of here.
I scrambled up the ditch, forcing up my torn wings. I’d almost taken flight when the girl snagged my ankle and yanked me back to the dirt.
“I’m afraid you’re too useful to let go, Reaper,” she chided.
“I’ll sooner be taken to the Void before I become one of you!” I turned my scythe round, pointing the tip at my own chest.
With a bracing inhale, I plunged the scythe into my ribs—screaming as the sharp metal slid through my breastplate and lodged into soft tissue.
Rossette and Nikolai screamed, dropping to their knees. They clutched at their chests, feeling my pain through our Pact.
“Da’torr…!” Rossette’s voice was shrill as she spotted me.
Nikolai panted. “What eez… doing…?”
“I’m sorry…!” I gasped, the breath burning. I gripped my dripping scythe again. “I’m not… done yet…!”
I twisted the blade toward my Seam—
The Sentient ripped the blade out in a gush of blood.
Her enflamed hand raged with hot flames, and her fingers snatched my face, her claws sinking into my cheeks and scraping bone. I howled, the stink of melting skin simmering as her fire licked over my right eye and spread to my featherless head—
Something swooped down and slashed its talons across her face.
It was my messenger raven.
Nile!
The girl jerked away as the raven dove again, distracting her while I crouched over the dirt, bearing the pain of my melted skin.
I curled over the dirt, wheezing, my chest drenched in dark crimson, spots clouding my vision. I wanted to lie down and… and rest for a bit… just for a little while…
Your soul will rot, I remembered, sobering. You’ll be one of those damned demons!
I found my scythe lying feet away. I heaved forward, crawling to it. If I could just… cut my Seam…
“Annoying little rats!” snarled the girl. She swatted Nile with a powerful crack and the bird hit the dirt in a puff of dust.
I screamed, my soul ripping in two.
“NILE!” Pain exploded, grief and panic slamming hard and sharp. I scrambled to my messenger and scooped up Nile, cupping the limp bird.
“N-Nile?” My voice cracked, tears flooding as the new pit in my soul shriveled. “Nile…! Please—No, no, no…!” I heaved gasps as I curled over the dead raven, the world shrinking away. “Nile…! Please… plea—Hghck!”
Something drove into my back.
Squrlch! Something wet squelched, an icy chill ripping from my ribs.
Everything went numb.
The girl sauntered around me, beaming like a proud child who couldn’t wait for her promised reward. In her hands was a dark, drenched lump of muscle. It looked like a shifter’s heart.
My gaze dropped, absently noting that the pulse in my ears was dimming.
Rossette and Nikolai’s screams choked into silence. With my spotty vision, I saw their corpses were being scraped raw by the rotten beasts, their ghosts rising from their mangled bodies and huddling as the demons surrounded them.
“Keep his puppets from your beasts’ teeth, would you?” the scaled man asked the girl, pushing up his eyeglasses. “I should think they’ll make fair collateral.”
“D…” Blood flooded up my throat, the taste of salty metal pouring over my tongue, vision blotting black. “Death save us…”
1
An Unwelcome Party
WILLOW
