Chaos Awakens (Dragons of the Nether Book 1) Read online

  Chaos Awakens

  Dragons of the Nether, #1

  Megg Jensen

  Contents

  Subscribe

  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

  Epilogue

  Upcoming Releases

  Acknowledgments

  Copyright © 2017 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.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  1st Edition: February 2017

  Cover art by Michael Gauss

  Cover design by Steven Novak Illustration

  Created with Vellum

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  Map

  Chapter 1

  Tace held a dagger to the human's throat, the silver tip of the blade glinting in the pale moonlight. "Say your final words, priest."

  The old man sat calmly on his stool. Unlike her other victims, his breath held steady, and his eyes remained relaxed. It was unusual, but it wouldn't stop her from completing her task. She had been told to kill him, make it look like a suicide, and she would do it. Every death brought her closer to the salvation she so desperately needed.

  "You are a very unusual shade of blue for an orc." The man reached up, resting a wrinkled hand on Tace's cheek, his thumb near the tusk on the right side of her mouth.

  She startled, surprised the human spoke the orc language so well. A quick shake of her head and she remembered why she was there. Kill the human priest. The color of her skin was irrelevant. "Sit up. Wrap this around your throat."

  The man took the rope from Tace, winding it about his throat. “The continent of Doros is spilt between the orcs to the north and the humans to the south. It should not be so. We must learn to work together.”

  "Tighter," she whispered in his ear, ignoring his ramblings.

  The priest grabbed the ends of the rope, yanking until it was so tight around his neck his nostrils flared.

  "I know why you do this.” Fear should have laced his words. Instead, curiosity punctuated the guttural orcish words, further muddled by his lack of air and his human tongue.

  "Our king has been more than kind to you. He has tried to teach you the truth, that death is our salvation. You have been given every chance to convert. Instead, you continue to preach your lies to orcs in Agitar, upsetting the balance we strive so hard to keep." Tace paused for a moment. “At least that is my assumption. I am told who to kill, not why.”

  "Did you ever stop to consider King Rafe might be wrong?" The old man stood, his knobby knees steady as he climbed atop the stool.

  Tace hadn't had to tell him what to do. He knew what was coming, and he knew better than to fight.

  Tace threw back her head, laughter tumbling from between her lips. "It's not I who is in the wrong. Don’t tell me seven cities filled with orcs could be wrong, especially not here in the capital." She grabbed the long end of the rope, looping it around the wooden beam, tying it in a secure knot.

  She stood back, admiring her handiwork. The knot was tight enough to support the human's body, but sloppy enough to look as if he'd done it himself. Granted, hanging wasn't the neatest way to set up a suicide, but it worked best for the situation. Sometimes poison served her well. Other times, a well-placed dagger to the heart, with the dagger left clutched in the victim's hands. No matter the situation, the outcome would be same. The body would be discovered. The death would be ruled suicide.

  Getting the assignment was an honor. Completing it would elevate her within the assassins guild and prove she was as skilled as any other assassin. Though it hadn't been explicitly said, this was her final test, to prove she belonged among the leaders of their guild as much as anyone else.

  Now she only needed to execute the man, leaving clues to his apparent suicide.

  "Are you prepared to meet Drothu, god of darkness, and atone for your misdeeds?" she asked him, a smile creeping across her face.

  This was her favorite part. Sending the priest to her god, where he would face judgment for his cowardly life. He refused to chase after death, so now death would take him.

  The old man's eyes rested on Tace's. "I forgive you for what you are about to do. There is something about you." He cocked his head to the side. "I think redemption is in your future, but only if you seek it."

  Tace grunted. "I am about to kill you in the name of Drothu, the only true god, the one who asks us to come to him in glory. You will meet him as a coward, and I will be the one to deliver you."

  Suddenly, the door across the room was flung open. A human dressed in a yellow cape strode in. "What's happening here?" he asked.

  Tace cursed under her breath. She glanced at the door; the lock sat on the table next to it. She'd meant to move quickly after killing the man, locking the door from the inside before she slunk out the window. The apartment had been vacant. How had she missed the sound of someone approaching?

  The caped man ran to Tace, grabbing her right arm and twisting it behind her back before she could counter. She struggled against his grip, to no avail. They were evenly matched in size. She was stronger, but he had the advantage of having caught her completely by surprise.

  Tace kicked backward, but he deftly blocked her with his thigh. Tace's black hair fell on her face as she bent over, attempting to break his grasp.

  "You'll be okay, Hugh. I've got her," the caped man said, panting.


  Tace could tell his strength was already waning. He was no warrior. Just an acolyte.

  “I will meet your god, young assassin, but on my terms. I will tell him you were kind enough to send me, and you will live with the guilt of failing at your task. Maybe then you will seek another way of life." The priest’s rheumy eyes settled on the caped man. "And you, Ademar, follow the path I have laid out for you, even if it goes against everything you knew growing up. The two of you must toss aside all you know. The end is coming."

  "What?" Tace and Ademar both yelled.

  The old man uttered a long string of words in orcish, words Tace couldn’t understand, then kicked the stool out from underneath himself. He fell, his neck snapping immediately. Tace had done a good job with the knot. He was dead before Tace could extricate herself from the acolyte.

  Ademar ran to the old man's side. He drew a knife from his belt and cut his master's body down from the heights, cradling it in his arms.

  Tace bolted out the door before he could stop her.

  Her heart pounded in her chest as she ran through the town in the dark night. She pulled the hood of her cape over her dark tresses, hiding her face from a lone orc stumbling down the street outside. At this time of night, it was likely the only passersby would be inebriated. Regardless, she didn’t want to stop and talk.

  She choked back tears. She’d failed her task. She was to kill the priest herself and make it look like a suicide, not give him the chance to take his own life. Her god would know the difference. The method of death made all the difference when it came to judgment in the afterlife. Her role in it would be noted and judged accordingly. She already had enough obstacles in her way to salvation. Tonight’s mishap only made it worse.

  Thunder clapped in the sky, giving way to a downpour. Quickly drenched, Tace skirted the stone buildings, attempting to keep out of the deluge. Drothu already knew of her failure, and he was displeased.

  Tace crept through an alley, avoiding the rats scurrying for their supper among the discards of the inn. She rapped on a wooden wall twice. A panel slid to the side, revealing an opening to a staircase. Tace slipped in before the panel closed. With nervous steps, she descended the rough staircase until she arrived at the bottom, another panel in front of her.

  Tace reached up with shaky fingers, tapping a series of knots on the wall. Her hand slipped on the last, still nervous. She shook out her hands and began again, this time depressing the proper knots in the proper order. The wall groaned as it opened.

  A bright, flickering light greeted Tace as she entered the room. A fire roared in the back of the room. Its chimney connected to the one in the home above, which was inhabited by another of her order. Anyone seeing the smoke from outside would assume it came from the residence, not from their secret lair underground.

  "Is it done?" Hordain asked from a table in the back, his head bent over a ledger. He dipped a quill into the bottle of ink.

  "Yes." Tace attempted to keep her voice steady as she addressed the leader of the assassins guild.

  He looked up, his one eye focused on Tace's. "The priest is dead?"

  Tace nodded once, slightly dipping her chin.

  "And does anyone know yet?" He set the quill down on the table. With a pinch of his fingers, he grabbed sand from a bowl to his right and sprinkled it over the ink in the ledger.

  "Yes. His acolyte came upon him. He believes it was a suicide." Though misleading, Tace's words were technically true.

  Hordain stood, his wide hands resting on his belly as he gave a raucous laugh. "You did it. Do you know you are the fifth to be sent on this task? The old man managed to out-maneuver our best assassins. They did not die in the attempts, but they have been reprimanded and sent away to the other orc cities."

  Tace bit her lip. She had thought she was one of the guild's best assassins. To find out she was only the sixth best stung.

  "I did as I was asked," Tace finally said. "It is my duty to the dark lord. I find comfort in knowing I will rest securely in Drothu's arms one day."

  Hordain walked closer, resting a hand on Tace's cheek. "Indeed you will. You could die tonight and achieve the type of salvation so many dream of." His fingers traced her jawbone, then snaked around her throat.

  Tace swallowed hard. If she had succeeded tonight, she should welcome her own death. Perhaps Hordain thought snapping her neck would send her to her final rest at the most opportune time.

  Except she knew the truth: if she died now, she would never reach the arms of Drothu. She would suffer for eternity. Her parents had left her a debt to pay to Drothu, that Tace couldn't begin to fulfill on her own. The assassins guild was her only path to eternal life.

  At least until the events of tonight. It would take many more deaths to repent for her failure. No matter what she did, Tace never seemed to get ahead on her debt.

  She could not die this night.

  But nor could she fight Hordain, because then he would know she had failed.

  Tace closed her eyes, waiting for judgment to befall her. She could die and lose everything, or live and make reparations.

  "Hordain," she whispered. "I would gladly take death. Except I am quite sure I am now your greatest assassin. I succeeded where others failed. Let me live to bring more lives to our lord. I will suffer this life for them."

  His lips parted in a smile, his tusks protruding from inside his bushy black beard. "You sacrifice much for your people, Tace." Hordain dropped his hand to his side.

  She swallowed once more, keeping her composure. "It is the least I can do for them. I am only here to serve." And to save my own arse from eternal damnation, she added silently.

  "I'm proud of you, girl. Take tomorrow off. Rest. You deserve it." Hordain grabbed a small leather pouch of coins, tossing it toward her.

  Tace reached out, snatching the bag from midair. "Thank you. I will." Bowing, she took her leave from the guild's lair, making her way back up the stairs.

  Only once she had returned to the street, and the panel slid closed behind her, did Tace allow one tear to burn a trail down her cheek.

  Chapter 2

  Ademar held Hugh to his chest, cradling the old man in his arms. Hugh's head lolled to the side, his neck broken, his lips slack. His vacant eyes stared into the distance.

  Ademar had watched the female orc climb out the window and disappear into the darkness. He hadn't given a thought to chasing her. Hugh needed him now. The priest had taken his own life, exactly the thing he preached against. How could Ademar explain that to anyone?

  The door burst open. Boots stormed into the room. "Ademar! Hugh! What happened?"

  Ademar glanced up at Matthew, the guard who'd accompanied them to the orc capital of Agitar from their homeland of Soleth. "He's gone."

  "Gone?" Matthew knelt next to them, running his hands over Hugh's limp neck. "I don't understand."

  He looked up at the ceiling, finally seeing the rope Ademar had sawed through to get Hugh down. "The assassins guild. They finally got to him. Those bastards." Matthew stood, drawing his sword from his hip.

  "No!" Ademar said. "That's not what Hugh would have wanted. He abhorred violence. Sheath your weapon, now."

  Matthew slowly slid his blade into its leather sheath, his chest puffed and his cheeks red. "They will pay for this."

  Ademar feared if his lips moved he would spill the truth: although the assassin tried, she failed, and his master took matters into his own hands. If others knew Hugh had taken his own life, their order would fall into chaos. Everything they had been taught about their religion would be questioned. It was bad enough the orcs' god glorified death. If the Order of the Sun fell apart, there was no hope for any of the humans.

  Though lying, too, was a sin, Ademar made the only choice he could.

  "An assassin must have finally succeeded. We all know Master Hugh would never take his own life." Ademar laid Hugh carefully on the floor, resting his head on a pillow from a nearby chair. He stood, placing a hand on Matthew's sho
ulder. "You must go home to Soleth. Tell them what has happened. Take Hugh's body with you."

  Matthew bowed. "I will inform the others what happened here this night. We will steal Hugh's body away into our own catacombs before the orcs can desecrate his legacy further.

  Ademar nodded, and Matthew left the room as swiftly as he had arrived. Ademar settled on the floor next to Hugh's body. "Did you do it, old man? Did you meet Drothu and question him? Or did you find our god, Sornal, and bask in his light?" Ademar passed his hand over Hugh's eyes, closing the lids with a gentle sweep.

  Ademar stood again just as the door was flung open.

  Hilthe crept in, her eyes sweeping the room until she found Hugh. "So it's true. Matthew ran by, mumbling as if he didn't see me. Perhaps he didn't." She waved a hand in the air as she made her way to Hugh. "Hung. Someone from the assassins guild?"

  Ostensibly, the old woman had seen to Hugh's domestic needs, doing the cooking and cleaning. The truth was she was more clever than all of the men put together. Hugh kept her on, not for her abilities around the house, which were lacking on a good day, but for her counsel. The others wouldn't take kindly to a woman dispensing advice on the Order of the Sun. Still, Ademar knew she was the one to listen to.

  "The assassins guild could never lay a hand on Hugh unless he let them." Hilthe gazed up at Ademar, her right eye squinting as always and her wiry gray hair standing on end. "Tell me what really happened here."

  Ademar wrung his hands, stalling.

  "Don't search for the right words, boy. At nineteen, you’re old enough to tell me the unvarnished truth." Hilthe reached up, taking hold of his ear, pulling Ademar down to look her in the eye.

  He bent, his back hurting as much as his ear thanks to the awkward angle. "He did it to himself."

  Hilthe let go of Ademar's ear. He straightened, rubbing it, and glanced to make sure the door was closed before continuing. He listened for the sound of movement in the corridor but heard nothing except his and Hilthe's breathing.