Dead Stars - Part Two (The Emaneska Series) Read Free

right. This is all my fault.’ He spared a moment to look at Tyrfing and Durnus, whose expressions were nothing short of bewildered. That alone made him surge on. He turned back to face Modren, and pushed his jabbing finger off of his chest. ‘But you’re also wrong, and for one astoundingly simple reason. I can fix this, and even better, I will.’
    ‘How?’ asked Durnus.
    Farden crossed his arms. Proving them wrong was almost as gratifying as proving them right. Unflinching clarity. ‘First off, Elessi needs saving. If those useless healers in there are out of options, then I vote we go somewhere better, somewhere with healers that managed to fix me when I was banging on death’s door, half-dead from a shipwreck. Healers who have access to a lot more ancient lore than we could ever dream of.’
    ‘The Sirens?’
    ‘The Sirens.’
    ‘We haven’t heard from them in months.’
    ‘Then we’ll go to them.’ The others looked unconvinced. Farden ploughed on. ‘Unless of course you want to consult the Arfell scholars, and have them spend the next three months trawling through their libraries?’
    Durnus nodded. It made sense. ‘Fine. What about the daemons?’
    Farden clanged his wrists together, grinning. ‘They wouldn’t come near me once they saw I was wearing this armour. You all saw it happen. I challenged him and he slunk off. It must be the Nine. We find the rest of this armour, and we’ve got ourselves a deterrent. Or a weapon. Or both.’
    Modren couldn’t help but laugh. ‘That simple, is it?’
    ‘Godblood,’ Farden retorted.
    ‘Godwhat?’
    ‘Godblood,’ repeated Farden. ‘It’s what that daemon whispered before he disappeared.’
    ‘And what is it supposed to mean?’ asked Tyrfing. ‘Besides the obvious?’
    Farden shrugged. ‘How am I to know? But what I do know is that we happen to have two gods in this very Arkathedral who just might. I say we ask them.’
    Tyrfing held up his hands. ‘Say you do all this. Say the Sirens can save Elessi and you can fight the daemons. What about your daughter? And the rest of the daemons? I would bet my Book that Ragnarök was never just three daemons. There will be more soon. And lots of them too. More importantly, Farden, what about you? How are you, in your current state, going to fight them all off?’
    Farden turned to face his uncle. He smiled wryly. ‘I guess we’ll have to see, won’t we? After, all, I didn’t say I’d fix this alone, did I?’
    The others shook their heads.
    ‘So?’
    Durnus shrugged. ‘Well, it’s rough. And simple. And I have no idea how you’re going to pull it off, but there we have it.’
    ‘Sounds a shite plan to me.’ This from Modren.
    Farden stared at each of them in turn. ‘Anybody got any better ideas?’
    Tyrfing sighed. ‘No.’ He found it odd that it was so difficult to admit that. He should have been practically prancing with joy at Farden attempting to take the reins, but instead, he couldn’t help but doubt him and his perforated plan. He felt a trickle of guilt run through him. He looked at the floor.
    ‘Be sure to let me know when they pop into your head,’ Farden replied, almost sensing his uncle’s doubt. He looked to Modren. ‘And you? She’s your wife. Nelska could save her.’
    Modren looked back at the door, and thought of his wife on the narrow bed, as grey as stone and as cold as a winter morning. He thought of the healers bumbling around her, mopping up sweat and blood. Useless.
    When he finally spoke, his voice was small and cracking at the edges. He prodded Farden once more in the chest, but this time there was no anger behind it. ‘You bring her back to me, Farden. I don’t care how, just bring her back,’ he said, small, and cracked.
    Farden met Modren’s eyes, and the look they shared was as hard and as binding as steel. He didn’t reply, he simply nodded.
    ‘Well,’ said Durnus. ‘If you are intent on going to Nelska, I suppose you will need a ship.’
    Farden