A Legacy of Blood Read online

  A Legacy of Blood

  Megg Jensen

  Contents

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  Map

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Complete the Trilogy

  Acknowledgments

  Copyright © 2019 by 80 Pages, Inc

  Published by 80 Pages, Inc

  * * *

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used factitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form by or any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author or publisher.

  * * *

  1st Edition: January 2019

  * * *

  Cover art by Michael Gauss

  Cover design by Steven Novak Illustration

  Created with Vellum

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  Map

  Chapter 1

  "What do we do with them?" The human male looked at the two orcs with distaste, his upper lip curled and his eyes narrowed.

  "If we set them free, they're likely to kill us." The second man tugged on his pointy beard.

  He was right. Nishta looked at her sister, Gashta, knowing she felt the same way. They weren't just sisters—they were also twins. They felt the same things. They could read each other's minds. One knew what to do without the other explicitly asking.

  Yes, the humans would perish if Nishta and her sister were set free. There was no question of that.

  After their captor, the mage, had died from his burns, the two orcs had been forced, with spears at their backs, to walk to the village of Gunder. The humans had made them watch while the orc shaman was beheaded, her head put on a spike for all the others to see. They had then been forced to march again upon their home city of Agitar, as the humans threatened to annihilate the orcs.

  They watched as nightmare became reality. Not in the skirmishes between the humans and the orcs, but when the giant, tentacled xarlug emerged from the ground, starving and eager to devour all of them. Nishta and Gashta would have preferred to fight; instead they remained chained to the palanquin as always, the humans too scared to sever their bonds.

  "We will tear you limb from limb. We will suck the marrow from your bones," Gashta mumbled in her harshest guttural growl.

  The humans' eyes grew wide. They had no idea what she'd said, but they understood her intentions well enough.

  "Should we try speaking to them in their language?" Nishta asked her sister.

  "Do you think if we promise not to hurt them, they will let us go?" Gashta replied.

  The sisters broke into laughter.

  The man to their right could hold it in no longer. The front of his trousers blossomed with wetness. He ran off, his hands over his privates.

  "He pisses himself even though he doesn't know what we say," Nishta said. "Humans are weak. I have no idea how they got through the orcs at the pass. It's embarrassing."

  "Indeed," said Gashta.

  The remaining guard kept a wary eye on the sisters, but backed away a few steps, his sword hand trembling slightly.

  Gashta lunged at him, growling.

  He squealed like a small child and fell backward.

  Nishta laughed. It felt good to release a little tension. When she and her sister were under the spell of the mage, original thoughts had been few and far between. Often, his magic kept them docile, and even when they weren't under his thrall, they found themselves utterly exhausted. At least now they could converse with each other and laugh, even if they were still prisoners.

  Besides, they would be free eventually—and when they were, they would exact revenge on the humans.

  Two new soldiers stalked over, covered from head to toe in armor. "Brok told us what happened. We'll take over from here," one said.

  Without so much as a glance in their direction, the frightened man ran off. The two armored soldiers stood in front of the orcs, keeping watch.

  When the frightened guard was out of sight, and no one else was in view, the two new soldiers dropped their swords to the ground. "We want to free you," the second said. "Nod if you understand."

  Nishta looked at her sister, who shrugged. They had nothing to lose. Nishta turned back to the soldier and nodded.

  "Good. Now, if we promise to release you, do you promise not to kill us?" The man looked nervous, but Nishta saw honesty in his eyes.

  Despite their earlier japes, Nishta knew this might be their only chance. She nodded again, and held out her foot. The chains were looped around her ankle and secured with a heavy, rusted lock.

  The man produced a key from his pocket and leaned down. He looked at Nishta once more, his eyes wide, then took a deep breath and turned the key in the lock. A loud click echoed in the quiet dark of early morning, and the shackle fell to the ground.

  Gashta thrust her leg toward him next, and within moments, her lock clanked next to Nishta's. They both fumbled with the chains, unlooping them from their legs.

  When they were finished, Nishta looked at the man. "Why?" she asked in his language.

  "You speak the human tongue?" the surprised guard said.

  "Obviously," said Gashta, a wide smile on her face.

  Composing himself, the man said, "We no longer have a quarrel with your kind. But I cannot speak for others. You must hurry. Go, before anyone sees you."

  The sisters didn't spare a moment. They took off running toward Agitar, their hearts pounding. They hadn't run this fast in two years. Not since the humans captured them.

  Soon the humans were so far behind, they appeared as no more than specks.

  "I need to stop," Gashta said between sharp breaths.

  "We can't," Nishta said. "They have horses. It wouldn't take them long to get to us. They could change their minds and tell the others."

  "If we don't stop, I'm going to vomit."

  "Fine." Nishta slowed, noticing pain in
her own chest. "We will walk. But when we've recovered, we will run again."

  "Agreed." Gashta bent over at the waist and took in several deep breaths.

  "Are you okay?" Nishta asked, concerned.

  Gashta looked up at her sister and smiled. "I'm out of shape. So are you. Vron will have something to say about that upon our return. He always used to be so hard on you."

  Nishta felt her green face turning pink. "It has been a long time. I'm sure he has forgotten about me by now."

  Gashta rested a hand on her sister's shoulder. "Vron is an honorable orc. I'm sure he will greet you properly when you return."

  "We were only lovers, not in a committed relationship. I'm sure he's moved on." Nishta stretched out her back muscles.

  "Perhaps, perhaps not. Still, any orc would be understanding if Vron needed to tend to you."

  "Shush now, sister. Let us continue before the humans change their minds."

  Nishta wanted to stop this line of talk. For the longest time after they'd been captured—while out fishing on the coast; well, truth be told they had fallen asleep on the warm sand—Nishta had insisted Vron would rescue them. She had believed it with utter certainty. It wasn't until several months later that she gave up on the fantasy, resigning herself to a life of slavery under the shriveled thumb of that evil mage.

  She and Gashta began running again. Nishta was eager to get to Agitar, even though the xarlug had destroyed it. Their orcs were there, and there was no place they'd rather be. She’d overheard the humans talking about Agitar. The city was in ruins, buildings toppled into piles of stone, and the orcs had moved out to the safety of the prairie, pitching their tents amid the tall grass.

  Still, Nishta couldn’t help feeling joyous. She would soon be home with her fellow orcs. Nothing could make her feel bad now.

  Chapter 2

  Tace sat on the ground in front of a campfire, orange sparks dancing in the air, giving little light to the dark evening. The tiny dragon, Raseri, was wrapped around her neck, snoring contentedly, and Ademar was perched next to her, but at a respectful distance. No one knew about their relationship—or whatever they wanted to call it.

  Since defeating the xarlug, Tace had felt… different. Not just about Ademar, but about everything. Over the last couple of years, she'd worked so hard to undo the damage her parents' religious beliefs had done to her family's chances of salvation. As a member of the assassins' guild, she had brought death to many, and each death brought her a step closer to the afterlife with Drothu. Her god relished death, and Tace was more than happy to comply with his wishes.

  And now she had killed one of his minions. If the scholars were to be believed, the xarlug was one of Drothu's guardians. It had risen from the depths to wreak havoc on her city, destroying thousands of lives.

  What should she have done?

  Tace had used a relic of ancient power, the Staff of Jokan, to capture and kill it. Afterward, a mystical tattoo had appeared on her left wrist.

  The tattoo reminded her daily of what she'd done, that there was no going back. She'd hidden it by tying a scrap of fabric around her wrist, telling anyone who asked that she had a cut, that it was healing, and that she was just being overly cautious. She'd hidden the magical staff as well, leaving it with the now-tiny dead xarlug trapped inside the gem deep within the rubble of Agitar.

  Eventually, she'd have to come up with a better explanation for everything. Until then, she put it out of her mind. She would think of something. She always did. Tace was never short on ideas.

  "How sure are we that this wasn't a fluke?" Vron asked. He eyed her intently, just as he'd done ever since she'd met him while battling the xarlug.

  Tace ignored him. His interest annoyed her, and he kept studying her as if she were some enigma to solve.

  "It wasn't," Alyna, the faun, said. "What we need is someone who knows the legends and can aid us in deciding how to proceed."

  General Dalgron hefted a sword and pointed toward the encampments not far away. Their fires blazed in the darkness, though many had been doused as the people took to their tents. "We need to rebuild the city," he said. "My people cannot continue to live like this, out in the open. We are not animals. We are orcs!"

  "The city isn't safe," Tace said. "Many of the buildings are unstable. You saw that during the rescue and recovery operations." The orcs had spent the last week digging through their city, only to realize their efforts might be in vain. The devastation was too great. It would take years to rebuild.

  "What options do you give us?" Dalgron asked, his eyes boring into Tace's.

  Tace had only recently met the general of the orc army, and she could tell he was used to intimidating others. Too bad for him. It took a lot more than intimidation to wear her down.

  Tace looked to Alyna. They, too, had only known each other a short time, but Tace already respected Alyna's battle instincts, as well as her mind. She'd proven herself a formidable ally.

  The faun took a deep breath before speaking. "I know you're focused on your city. I understand that. But the reason I came to Agitar in the first place has not changed. Something out there wants to destroy the orcs. I can feel its hatred simmering underground. The xarlug was only the beginning. If you, if any of us, are to survive, we must be proactive. We must do more than rebuild the city. We must focus on the survival of the entire orc race."

  "Is it really so dire?" Dalgron asked. "How do we know this feeling of yours is accurate?"

  "I came to Agitar because of this so-called 'feeling' you're so quick to deride," Alyna said. "Can you admit I was right? Is it possible I'm right now?" Her tone was a challenge, as if daring Dalgron to argue.

  But Tace knew that fighting among themselves would solve nothing. What they needed was information, something that would steer them in the right direction. Unfortunately, they'd already exhausted all of their resources in Agitar. There was only one place remaining that could help.

  "I'll lead an expedition to the Library of Filamir," she announced. The library was the sole repository of all known knowledge. It was housed in a fortress on the southwest coast of the continent of Doros, a peaceful meeting place for all races. A wealth of information was hidden in its stacks, squirreled away in books most had never heard of. If they were truly in a fight against their god, then the answers they needed might be hidden within these ancient texts.

  "I'll go too," Ademar said in passable orcish.

  "And I."

  All eyes turned to the human who sat on the outskirts of the group. Brax had been learning the orc language, very slowly, from Ademar since the xarlug attack. "I'd like to see this Library of Filamir," he said with a nod.

  Alyna stood, her hooves pressing into the damp ground. "Good. Then we shall see the three of you off in the morning. Vron? Will you join me?"

  Vron walked a step behind Alyna as they headed toward their tent.

  Tace felt Ademar's eyes on her, but she didn't turn to him. She knew he wanted everyone to know about their relationship, the same way everyone knew about Vron and Alyna. But Tace wasn't ready. It was all too new. Too confusing.

  She stretched her arms above her head, then faked a yawn. "I'm headed off to bed, too." She turned to Ademar and Brax. "Meet me on the edge of camp before sunrise."

  Ademar nodded, then translated for Brax, who saluted her.

  Tace kept the snort to herself. Brax treated her as if she were a great military leader. Apparently Ademar hadn't told him she was one of the greatest assassins of her time.

  She made her way through the orc camp to her tent. She'd been lucky enough to get one to herself, though she doubted anyone would have volunteered to share. Those who had seen how she'd captured the xarlug in the gem on the end of the Staff of Jokan, or had heard the tale, now held her in awe. Tace hadn't asked for the notoriety, hadn't wanted it, but she'd quickly learned there was a difference between how she wanted to be perceived and how others saw her.

  She slipped into her tent and let the flap fall behind
her. As she lay down on her bedroll and closed her eyes, Raseri slipped from her shoulders and snuggled up next to her chest. Tace was glad the tiny dragon had chosen to stay with her rather than fly back to the Frozen Wastelands with her mother, Pesha. Though Tace worried about Pesha missing her baby, she couldn't help but be grateful for Raseri's company. The dragon was her only family now.

  Tomorrow Tace would leave Agitar for the second time since she was five. For fourteen years she'd lived in the orc capital city with her mother—until she'd received the assignment that had changed everything. Her guild master had tasked her with killing the human priest who was making trouble in their city. But when Tace attempted to kill him, he turned the tables on her by committing suicide. She saw it—and so did his disciple, Ademar. Since then, the two had been on the run, trying to escape those who would kill them. They'd barely survived. And then they'd returned to Agitar, only to find the xarlug rising to destroy it.

  That assignment had altered her life in unimaginable ways.