WRATH (Rise Book 2) Read online

  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  1. Daelyn

  2. Boaden

  3. Jordane

  4. Madison

  5. Daelyn

  6. Boaden

  7. Enden

  8. Madison

  9. Boaden

  10. Jordane

  11. Daelyn

  12. Madison

  13. Enden

  14. Boaden

  15. Jordane

  16. Daelyn

  17. Boaden

  18 .Daelyn

  19. Enden

  20. Boaden

  21. Daelyn

  22. Madison

  23. Enden

  24. Daelyn

  25. Madison

  26. Jordane

  27. Boaden

  28. Enden

  29. Daelyn

  30. Madison

  31. Boaden

  32. Jordane

  33. Enden

  34. Daelyn

  35. Boaden

  36. Madison

  37. Daelyn

  38. Enden

  39. Madison

  40. Enden

  41. Boaden

  42. Daelyn

  43. Madison

  44. Enden

  45. Jordane

  46. Madison

  47. Boaden

  48. Daelyn

  49. Boaden

  50. Daelyn

  51. Enden

  52. Madison

  53. Daelyn

  54. Madison

  55. Boaden

  56. Boaden

  WRATH

  RISE series Book II

  By J.M. Kearl

  WRATH and (what happens within characters/situations/ worlds) are Copyright (c) 2019 by J.M. Kearl . The distribution of this book without the author’s permission is theft of the author's intellectual property. If you would like permission to use the material from this book email [email protected]. Thank you for the support of the author's rights.

  Cover copyright J.M. Kearl (c) 2019

  WRATH is a work of fiction. All characters, places, names or likeness are products of the author's imagination and used fictitiously.

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to my dad, a lover of fantasy. He's probably the reason I enjoy it so much, and he's always encouraged me to write my books.

  1. Daelyn

  When Daelyn thought she lost Jordane ten years ago, it shattered her world. But, she hadn’t seen his pale lifeless body, nor did she see him bleed out and take his last breath in front of her eyes. Losing her mother is a different kind of pain. Even though Madison was often mean, closed off and secretive, she loved her. They’d always been together; Madison taught her almost everything she knew and now it feels like there is a hole in her chest. An emptiness that won’t be filled, even by her father.

  The dried tears on Daelyn’s cheeks are stiff against the warm air. Boaden has slowed their pace since they appear to have lost the Hesstian guards. The dark stale blood stained on Daelyn’s hands are a constant reminder of what happened.

  “We have to stop and get you and Jordane cleaned up,” Boaden says, but to Daelyn’s ears he sounds muffled, far away and she barely nods.

  When the sun sets, he stops at a post in front of a small inn, and Jordane and Daelyn follow his lead. He ties Hess and turns to the both of them. “I’ll go inside and ask if we can use a room to wash up,” Boaden says. “Stay here.”

  Daelyn looks at her father who is staring at the back of his horses head. She doesn’t dare speak though there are so many things she wishes to say. If she opens her mouth now, she’ll lose her composure and who knows when the tears will stop. Since Jordane won’t look up, she supposes he feels the same way.

  A pair of men step out of a nearby tavern singing a song about pretty dames and fast horses. One smiles up at her but she can’t smile back. He doesn’t know what happened, that her mother was stabbed and killed right in front of her. He doesn’t know that she took down half of Kezington with her magic. If he did, he’d be calling for the guard.

  For the first time since they stopped, it occurs to her that Hesstian guards could be nearby. Her head whips around at the sound of footsteps but it’s only a young lady. What if they find her body? Will they mutilate her? She deserves a burial, Daelyn thinks. Asha whinnies when Daelyn reflexively pulls on her mane. I could go back and bury her. The guards must be gone by now.

  But as if he’d heard her thoughts, Jordane lifts his head and meets her gaze. “This is taking too long. We should go inside.”

  Letting go of the idea of taking off alone, Daelyn follows her father through the entrance of the inn. Boaden is speaking with a man behind a counter. The man hands him two sets of new clothes and Boaden offers him coins in return. When Boaden turns, he nods for them to follow him. “I told the owner we wouldn’t be staying, just needed some hot water to clean up. He sold me some clothes as well. Some belong to his wife and the others to him. They might be a little large for you, Jordane.”

  “Anything is better than these filthy rags,” he replies.

  Boaden pushes open a door to a room labeled #2, and a few minutes later the man at the counter brings in a large bucket full of hot water and towels. “Anything else I can get you folks?”

  “No, that will be all, thank you,” Boaden answers.

  Daelyn dips her hands into the bucket and the blood stains the water a light pink. Her mind flashes back to the sword driving through her mother’s belly. She imagines the moment her magic blasted out. The memory of it causes her hands to tremble while magic hums beneath her skin, and the tub vibrates. Both Jordane and Boaden look to her curiously, cautiously. Daelyn pulls her hands from the water and clenches her fists so tight her hands ache. The tub stops moving.

  After that, the silence in the room is only interrupted by the splash of water when a towel is rung out. Jordane stands in front of the small cracked mirror and shaves with Boaden’s dagger, leaving Boaden and Daelyn to sit and wait.

  “I’m having a hard time knowing what to say,” Boaden says quietly. “I can feel your pain—"

  “If you knew how I felt you’d have never dragged me away from her,” Daelyn snaps, and tears fill her eyes. “How could you?”

  “I cared for Madison, too. I didn’t want to leave her.”

  “But you did.”

  “Daelyn, I had to get you out of there. If Enden’s men find us, they will take you and I don’t know if we could get you back.”

  “We could have brought her with us and buried her here in this town. No one is following us now.”

  Jordane’s stern voice cuts through the air, “That’s enough. Boaden did what needed to be done.”

  Daelyn hadn’t heard that voice since she was a young child being reprimanded. “Father, I--”

  “I said, that’s enough.” Jordane turns to look at her. “Just because the guard hasn’t caught us doesn’t mean they won’t. And nobody knows better than me what it’s like to be a prisoner of Hesstia. I won’t risk that for either of you, not even to bury my wife.” He wipes his face and with his beard gone his cheeks appear even more sunken in. Dark circles around his eyes are prominent and the yellowing of his teeth from years of neglect stand out.

  Daelyn holds her tongue, imagining that her father is just as heartbroken as she is but he can still think clearly even when he’s been imprisoned for so long.

  “If you’re ready, we should leave now,” Boaden says rising to his feet. “They’ll come looking in this town sooner or later.”

  After washing away the blood and dirt and changing into fresh clothes, they ride on. A numbness comes over Daelyn. The sorrow eats away at her but she shuts her emotions off, she has to
. The pattering of Asha’s hooves, the sound of crickets playing their song, is what she focuses on while they ride into Nordia. They barely pause at a sign that reads: “You are leaving Hesstia and entering Nordia. BEWARE.”

  Beware? Daelyn thinks. Nordia isn’t a place she knows much about. Rumors say that it’s a dangerous, lawless land but Daelyn isn’t sure what to trust anymore. So much of what she knew has been a lie. She has the urge to ask Boaden but then clenches her jaw. Even if her father is right, she’s still angry at Boaden for carrying her away like a child. Still livid that because of him, they left Madison’s body to the wilderness or worse, the Hesstians. It will be hard for her to forgive him.

  Madison

  Madison draws in a rasping, desperate breath, filling her air-starved lungs. Her eyes pop wide open to find a black cloak covers her face. In a panic, she claws at the fabric tearing it off her body. She blinks a few times, gauging her surroundings through blurry vision. A canopy of trees looms above her in what appears to be the pale morning hours. What happened? Where am I? she thinks, trying to recall how she got here. Birds sing in the trees above, hopping from branch to branch. A fat brown spider crawls across her chest, she swipes it away. Suddenly memories of the past day flood into her mind and she bolts upright. Her hands fly to her stomach but the stab wound is gone, healed as if it was never there. The only clue she was ever harmed is the dried blood covering her body and the ground beneath her.

  Jordane. The man she loved more than any in the entire world. He had been there, holding her when everything went black. Where are they? Madison rises to her feet slowly glancing around the wooded area. She’s entirely alone. Shit. They must think I’m dead. Remembering the searing pain of the sword wound and the blood that seemed to never stop spilling out, she doesn’t blame them.

  The cloak is the only thing they left with her. No weapons, no food, and no horse. Judging by the morning light it has been almost a day since they left her, which means they are almost a day ahead of her, on horseback. The Hesstians will be searching these woods for them, for her. It’s a wonder they didn’t find her already.

  Madison creeps between the tree trunks, eyes darting every which way in search of danger. She thinks back to Midlan, rushing in to save her with the healing potion and the way Jordane reacted, like a wild animal. She’d never seen him lose his composure like that, not even in battle. Why did it have to be Midlan that brought the healing potion? She’s grateful to be alive but why him? If he is anywhere nearby… I’ll tear his heart out with my bare hands. Finding no one in view, she moves out into the open. She’s still deep in Hesstian country and nowhere near the border of Nordia. With no other choice, she takes off jogging on foot, hoping to come upon a small town where she can acquire a horse and new clothes. This bloodied dress is likely to draw unwanted attention, thankfully the cloak will cover most of it.

  An hour or so later she comes to the edge of a corn field, which means a farmer will live close and likely horses. She pushes leaves out of her way, running through the dense field. A male voice drifts on the air nearby. Her breath comes heavier as she moves faster, getting whipped in the face by the occasional leaf. As she closes in on the end of the patch, she slows, spying through the final stalks at a corral of horses.

  A young boy, maybe eight, watches the horses, standing on one of the fences wooden planks. A man, she assumes to be his father, comes into view and pats the kid on his back. She could knock the father unconscious and take a horse or possibly even ask, but neither is the best option. Instead fire ignites on her palm and she sets a single bale of hay alight. It’s surrounded by dirt and isn’t going to burn anything else.

  The smoke wafting through the air makes the young farmer turn. “Get a bucket!” he shouts and goes for the well.

  Madison sneaks around them and into the corral. She might feel a little guilty if the family only had one horse but there are three. In hopes that the animal is trained, she uses her magic to soothe the black mare into following her to the corral’s gate. It would be hard for her to jump from the ground with no stirrup or saddle, so she climbs onto the fence and leaps onto the mare’s back. The steed shifts slightly but is otherwise fine with Madison sitting on her. Let’s go… Shade. Yes, I’ll call you Shade. It only takes a small nudge and Shade is trotting. The farmer splashes water onto the fire and turns when Madison rides past.

  “Hey! Get back here!” he shouts, waving the bucket wildly.

  Faster, girl. Shade picks up speed and they tear across the terrain to find Madison’s family. She rides through the day and only stops to water the horse and hydrate herself. In the distance, she sees a town and tugs on Shade’s mane to slow her. Hesstian soldiers could be there waiting for her, yet she needs food. It’s been almost two days since she last ate anything.

  The sky looks as though it’s on fire with the sunset; she pulls the hood over her face and waits for cover of darkness. The moment the sun is behind the distant mountain range she nudges Shade and they move into a town, she guesses by the buildings on the main roadway, one being a tavern and scattered homes strewn about, that the population might be slightly more than a hundred.

  The surroundings are unfamiliar, she isn’t sure where she is exactly but she knows by the position of the sunset, she’s heading in the correct direction. She comes upon a couple loading their goods into a wagon and stops. “I know I’m late but—” I have no money, and nothing to barter with. “Never mind.”

  The old white haired man narrows his eyes, trying to see past the shadow of the hood. “Are you lost?”

  “No, I’m traveling to meet with my husband and daughter and just realized I lost my coin bag.”

  The old man takes a wrapped loaf of bread and a bag of apples from his wagon and wobbles towards her.

  The wrinkled woman scowls and waves a fist at him. “Harl, we came to make a profit not give away our goods.” Her voice is shaky just the way Madison expected it would sound.

  “Oh, hush up, woman. She is hungry.”

  Madison smiles under the hood, imagining that will be she and Jordane one day. If Madison lives to be that old, given the general peril of her everyday life she always expected to die young. “I can’t thank you enough for your kindness, sir.”

  He shoves the bread and apples into her hands, and pats Shade’s neck. “Have a good night, dear. Be careful riding about this late.”

  “I’ll be well enough. Might I ask if you saw a young blonde woman with two men today?”

  The old man taps a finger on his chin. “Why yes. They were in a hurry.” He clears his throat, and then coughs for a few breaths. “Is that your family?”

  “It is. I’ll need to hurry to catch up with them. Thank you.” Shade steps forward and they move through the one dirt path of the town. There doesn’t appear to be any soldiers here, thankfully.

  Madison rides on through the night guided by the stars but has a feeling that Boaden won’t allow them to stop either. Not until they at least cross into Nordia. She tears a chunk of bread with her teeth and before she knows it the entire thing is gone. I’ll have to make the apples last and hopefully I’ll see a rabbit or two. Food is scarce in the desert, which is exactly what Nordia is when she gets far enough.

  Three days later and there is still no sign of them. She considers sending them a note through fire, but they would probably think it’s trickery. Anyone could send a note claiming to be her. Though the most pressing reason is she doesn’t want them to come back for her and risk being caught. I can’t wait to see the look on their faces. Especially Jordane’s. Both of us coming back from the dead.

  2. Boaden

  The last week has been a slow torture. With the death of Madison, Daelyn and Jordane are both in silent agony. Feeling their emotions, that of his own sadness is amplified. The father and daughter have hardly even spoken to each other even with the years they’d spent apart. Many tears had been shed, long embraces as Daelyn cried into her father’s chest and he on her shoulder but not much co
nversation has been exchanged.

  Boaden even senses the guilt that Daelyn feels for killing the Hesstian guards. It was the first time she had killed anyone, he understands but it was self-defense and he hopes she’ll get over it quickly.

  They’d finally reached Nordia days prior and are now coming upon a small town. He hopes there is an inn because he doesn’t want to sleep on the sandy ground another night, and he could do with some decent food. They’d been scavenging for berries, and killing wild rabbits but the last day they hadn’t found anything to eat. He’s been to the desert before for missions and knows water is hard to come by.

  “We’ll stay here tonight. We need some good sleep and food.”

  Jordane nods solemnly. He, most of all needs the energy, he doesn’t have much fat to sustain himself.

  Three buildings in and they find a sign that reads: Musty’s Inn. Boaden gets a couple rooms, assuming Jordane would like his own. He and Daelyn will share the other.

  The inn owner is a middle-aged man with dark hair, who Boaden learns is actually the grandson of Musty. He shows them to their rooms pausing to pull out a key ring. “Are you three hungry? We have some supper left,” he says and the lock clicks a moment later.

  “Yes, we are very hungry,” Boaden answers.

  The door swings open with a creak. “I’ll get the meals set up for you and we can meet in the dining area in a few minutes.”

  Boaden lights the candles in the room with a wave of his hand. Jordane follows them in and plops his rear down on the bed. “If I go to my room now, I’ll fall asleep before supper. And I really need to eat.”

  “Let’s go then.”

  The table nearest the kitchen is the only one set with silverware and plates. They sit and Jordane grabs the small loaf of bread and rips a large hunk. He slabs it in butter and then stuffs it into his mouth before Daelyn or Boaden can even get a piece of their own. Plates of venison, gravy and mashed potatoes are brought to them. Boaden’s mouth waters at the aroma. Sensing Jordane’s ravenous hunger increases his own. They all dig in and eat in silence. After a while Boaden looks to Jordane. “This is the first good meal you’ve had in a long time, isn’t it?”