Heirs of the Fallen: Book 02 - Crown of the Setting Sun by James A. West Page B

Hunter had beaten him for speaking out of turn after dragging him from the river, the man had not so much as scowled since then for the same offence. For his part, Leitos had made it a habit to flinch and cower often around the Hunter, doing all he could to ensure that he seemed intimidated.
    Now, at the worst, the brute ignored him when he asked after something, a silent indication that he would not answer. Most times, though, he responded to just about any question posed. The man held within his skull a wealth of information, apparently taught to him while he was a slave. Often, Leitos was simply curious about this or that. Aside from the vague images his grandfather’s stories brought to mind, he had no experience of the world.
    Standing off to one side making water on a scraggly thorn bush, the Hunter turned his head at the question, squinting against the reddish light of the setting sun. They had paused on the crest of a sandstone bluff with a good view. “It’s a bone-town, you dolt,” the Hunter growled. “Just another open grave given over to sand and scorpions.”
    Leitos ignored the insult, having grown accustomed to them. A few miles to the south, in the direction the Hunter looked, sprawled a sweeping collection of crumbled buildings. It was no mere town—bone or otherwise—but a city. They had traveled hard for a week. Until now, Leitos had seen only endless desert.
    He studied the ruins more closely. Bleakness stole over him at the aspect of long abandonment, and darkness followed at a thought he could no longer afford to ignore.
That is where I will kill him
.
    He had considered the same more times than he could count, but so far he’d not had the opportunity. Running was no option, for he had seen the uncanny way in which the Hunter could winnow out the signs of a passing serpent in the dead of night, and then follow it to its den and kill it for supper.
    I must kill him
, he thought again. There was no other choice, and there could be no more delay. He had even decided how he would do it, although the idea of crushing the Hunter’s skull with a rock while he slept still turned his stomach. Also, it must be done in the first hour after the Hunter fell asleep. That was when the man slept the soundest. After that, he began stirring. Within two hours after falling asleep, the Hunter became restive, jerking awake at the faintest sounds.
This night, I will take back my freedom
.
    He looked away from the desolation of what had once been a sanctuary for humankind. “Not the town,” he said, hoping the thoughts of murder wrestling behind his eyes did not show on his face. He pointed out another landmark an equal distance to the west. “
That
.”
    The Hunter finished his business, then moved to stand beside Leitos. He surveyed the land in all directions, save the one in which Leitos pointed. Leitos had witnessed this behavior often since they set out, and had adopted for himself the habit of always keeping a wary eye for potential threats.
    The Hunter finally rested his gaze on the series of ragged craters gouged into the face of the desert. Most were small, no larger than the tumbledown abodes in the distant city. One in particular was far larger, a great bowl sunk into the face of the desert, with weathered fissures spreading crookedly from its crumbly rim. A layer of sand had accumulated on the bowl’s bottom, but the darker hues of scorched rock showed along the sides.
    “I have heard it told that when the Three died,” the Hunter said, “burning stars fell from the heavens for months, the world cracked and trembled, and the seas raged far inland. With my own eyes, I have seen great cities throughout Geldain reduced to rubble by the Upheaval. Slavers and traders and the like say there are signs that the same happened the world over. Their elders told of a time when the sun did not give its light for a season or more.
    “When light came again, bringing with it the new age—some years before the