Ashes
Published in Canada by Engen Books, St. John’s, NL.
Copyright © 2020 Lauralana Dunne
NO PART OF THIS BOOK MAY BE REPRODUCED OR TRANSMITTED IN ANY FORM OR BY ANY MEANS, ELECTRONIC OR MECHANICAL, INCLUDING PHOTOCOPYING AND RECORDING, OR BY ANY INFORMATION STORAGE OR RETRIEVAL SYSTEM WITHOUT WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM THE AUTHOR, EXCEPT FOR BRIEF PASSAGES QUOTED IN A REVIEW.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Distributed by:
Engen Books
www.engenbooks.com
submissions@engenbooks.com
First mass market paperback printing: June 2020
Ebook ISBN-13: 978-1-989473-58-0
Cover Design by Kelsey Power
ASHES
LAURALANA DUNNE
When fifteen-year-old Phoenix loses her caregiver, everyone that she has ever known inexplicably turn their backs on her. Given the impossible burden of repaying an unknown debt, Phoenix sets out on her own with her trusty donkey, Muler, as her only companion.
However, the roads are not safe, and Phoenix finds herself navigating the unfamiliar terrain of the Darkened Wood, scrambling to escape the unseen creatures that have designated her as their prey. A chance encounter with Malcourt, a mysterious traveller, not only saves her life, but sets it on a trajectory that she would have never thought possible.
Buoyed by the support of her newfound friends, she settles into life at Castle Angor and attempts to carve a place for herself. The unexpected discovery of Rorin, a gargoyle spy, has her agreeing to the incredible task of protecting King Benedict, and keeping the kingdom of Angoria safe. As suspicions grow within the castle walls, so do Phoenix’s mysterious gifts, and so does her resolve. In a race against time, Phoenix must learn to control her Power and stop a deadly threat, or risk losing everything - and everyone - she has come to hold dear.
Buy the book that readers proclaim "breathes life into a world of magic and lore that will draw the reader in right up to the epic conclusion. Ashes is a heroic tale not to be missed!" -- Amanda Labonté, author of Call of the Sea.
PRAISE FOR 'ASHES'
“Dunne breathes life into a world of magic and lore that will draw the reader in right up to the epic conclusion. Ashes is a heroic tale not to be missed.”
Amanda Labonté, bestselling author of Call of the Sea
“Lauralana Dunne weaves magic in her debut novel. A tale of adversity and finding one’s place in the world, Dunne is pitch perfect in her first novel.”
Jon Dobbin, author of The Broken Spire
“Lauralana Dunne astonishes in what is possibly the greatest debut novel of the past decade. An amazingly intricate world blended seamlessly with character, heart, and theme.”
Matthew LeDrew, author of Coral Beach Casefiles
“Dunne crafts a thrilling adventure nestled in a stunning world that can’t be missed.”
Chelsea Bee, author of London Calling
“A wonderful character writer, Lauralana Dunne weaves a brilliant tale with skill and warmth. Ashes is sure to be the next favorite of fantasy readers.”
AJ Ryan, author of The Secret of the Ohks
To my parents, the Bookmasters
For helping me to grow my wings and encouraging me to soar.
Table of Contents
ASHES LAURALANA DUNNE
PRAISE FOR 'ASHES'
PROLOGUE
PART I
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
PART II
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
EPILOGUE
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Bio: Lauralana Dunne
PROLOGUE
“There’s nothing more dangerous than a storm-teased fire,” Marla recited under her breath.
The sky had become a smear of black. The countless stars, tiny pinpricks of light in the endless darkness, had winked out of sight when the heavy clouds rolled across the horizon.
Marla hefted her bag to her shoulder and struggled to keep ahead of those clouds as she hurried towards the Cobber’s stead. She picked her way along the flooded path, her boots squelching in the rivers of mud as she sped up the slick hill. The wind twisted ominously along the horizon, lashing above the distant forest as it churned against itself, but still only the lightest breeze ruffled the loose strands of Marla’s hair. Impossibly dry flakes swayed in the air like falling snow, clinging to the sheen of sweat on her skin as she barrelled up the steep incline. She had to hurry. The storm’s eye would blow past them soon enough. She didn’t know what they’d do then.
A gasp slipped past her lips as she crested the hill. Devastation was everywhere. Large plumes of smoke billowed dry ash into the darkening sky. Splinters of wood fanned across the ground in front of the main structure, as if pieces of the framework had shattered. Ahead of her, the burning remains of the Cobber’s house stood on skeletal legs. Blackened and foreboding as death, it was a promise to the smouldering barn next door as the remnants of the wind-whipped flames grew along the edge of the roof.
Marla cast her eyes around the area until they landed on the Speaker. “Thomas!” she called.
“Ho, Marla,” Thomas returned her greeting without enthusiasm. He was a stocky man with bulging arms from years spent working in the fields. She could see that one of them was now in a make-shift sling, hanging uselessly in the dirty fabric. He leaned back against a covered wagon and surveyed the scene, nodding to Marla as she splashed towards him. He eyed the medicine bag slung over her shoulder. “I hope th’ rain comes soon.” His voice was mournful, low enough that it reached only her ears.
Marla touched his good arm in sympathy and looked around.
One section of the house’s roof had collapsed entirely. The main supports had been burnt out from underneath, snapping in half from the weight of the structure. Large slivers of charred wood thrust out of the mud where they had gouged the ground between the scattered shingles.
Two groups of men moved in a flurry of activity - the first attempted to pry open the barn’s locked doors, while the second tried to douse the flames and scrambled to move the large sections of the roof as quickly as possible. It was too early to tell if it was a rescue or a recovery operation, and Marla felt her stomach turn at the thought of the latter.
“All tha’s left is th’ barn,” Thomas nodded at the structure. Then, as an afterthought, he added: “It’s been awful quiet.”
Marla’s mouth went dry. She could only nod and gesture to his injured arm. Silently, he held it out for her to tend to.
The wind picked up. The scattered drops of rain became thick sheets of water that hissed as they smothered the dying flames of the house. It was too late for the barn. The fire ate its way into the loft and caught the hay that was stored there. It acted like kindling to the flames as they spread unchecked under the roof where the rain was unable to reach it.
Marla worked quickly, assessing his arm and adjusting the sling to the correct angle. “Tha’ll need t’ be set once we get some light.
”
He nodded absently, his attention on the barn.
The men had not stopped their struggle against the locked doors. Loud curses filled the air around the chopping. After what seemed like an eternity, one of them roared and lifted his axe above his head, signaling that he had made it through one of the thick wooden doors. Those closest to him joined him, their renewed efforts increased the size of the opening until a man-sized hole was formed.
“There’s somethin’ blockin’ th’ way!”
The eye of the storm passed. The winds increased in intensity, gusting against the barn ferociously, but the squalls did little to drown out the clamor of frightened animals inside.
“It’s a rafter,” a man named Dylan shouted back to Thomas, frustration coloring his voice. “It’s barrin’ th’ way! We can’t get in...” His usually sunny face was haggard and covered with mud. Marla could see that all of the men were in the same condition after long hours of fighting against the weather. They were exhausted.
Thomas opened his mouth, but he was interrupted before he could respond. Another group of men, the ones who had remained shifting through the rubble, gave a yell as they lifted a collapsed wall out of the house and dumped it in the mud.
A sobering silence followed as they stared at their discovery. The closest men removed their hats and held them to their chests, bowing their heads. One of them dropped to the ground and retched into the mud.
Marla jumped up and started forward. Thomas grabbed her arm with his good hand, keeping her from getting any closer. She tried to pull away but he held fast.
“They’re gone,” Thomas said to her gently.
He was right. She could see the broken bodies, immobile, in the mud. She turned away from the tangle of twisted limbs, bile rising in her throat.
The grisly discovery took the fight out of everyone.
“Alrigh’ then,” Thomas called back to Dylan, rolling his one good shoulder. “We ain’t doin’ much good here. There’s no sense in continuin’ on fer a bunch o’ low-brow animals.” He said the next part quietly to Marla: “They’ve been haulin’ well-water since th’ squall came on; fightin’ th’ blasted wind when it was blowin’ th’ wrong way. One o’ them will be th’ next casualty if we don-”
A high-pitched cry cut him off and everyone paused. Another thin wail split the air, slicing through the noise of the storm, causing the hair on Marla’s arms to stand on end. Her head snapped up as everyone looked towards the barn.
“Thomas!” she cried. “Someone’s in there!”
Thick smoke poured out through the door’s man-high split. Air rushed in through the hole, feeding the flames and causing them to swell against the inside walls. Whoever was in there didn’t have much time left.
Ignoring his injury, Thomas ran forward and grabbed an axe with his good arm, shoving through the crowd of men. “Aim fer th’ bottom o’ th’ door,” he yelled, fighting to be heard above the wind and rain. “If we can’t get ‘er open we’ll go under!”
The men roared with renewed energy and vigorous pounding filled Marla’s ears. They needed to hurry, she thought, willing them to somehow go faster. The wailing had stopped, and Marla didn’t know how much more smoke they could breathe in before they stopped breathing permanently.
Thunk.
Something banged against the double doors, rattling the heavy chains that Farmer Cobber had used to lock them together. Marla ran forward, but the men stepped backward as the force of the knocking spat wood chips on the ground by their feet. Dylan was close enough that she could see his knuckles turn white around his axe as he slid away from the barn. She came to a halt. What was happening?
The hole became larger. Chunks of wood the size of small logs crumbled away from the opening. Wood splinters trickled down the path carried by the running water, floating with the current to pool around Marla’s boots.
The men crossed themselves with the sign against evil, and Marla caught herself wanting to do the same. Even Thomas’s ruddy face was pale.
Another bang and her entire body went cold. No one was moving. No one was anywhere near the door.
It was coming from inside.
Someone - something - inside the barn was trying to get out, and whatever it was it was big, and it was angry.
It roared.
Marla felt her blood thicken and turn to ice in her veins. It pounded dully in her ears. She was rooted to the spot, unable to move her feet, unable to even think about trying to get away. Her thoughts were sluggish, and it was a struggle to remain upright where she stood.
A bestial scream of fury came from the burning structure. Desperation added to the strength of the creature, and its blows became stronger and faster. At last, the door broke with an eruptive crack. The creature gave a savage snarl and leapt out of the choking heat and into the rain.
It was massive. Its eyes glowed like an animal’s in the dark, catching the flickering flames and reflecting their light back into the night. It raked an impassive gaze through everyone assembled, pausing when it landed on Marla.
Cold reptilian eyes stared into hers without blinking. Oval-slitted pupils commanded her attention, and Marla found that it was impossible for her to look away.
Her breath hitched in her throat. The idea of screaming entered her head, a brief moment of clarity before it tumbled from her mind, and she dismissed the idea when she realized how hard it would be. She couldn’t even recall how to do it.
No one moved.
It - he, Marla realized - stood taller than any man here. His clothing, thick hides and stitched leather, was singed black in places from the flames. He was covered in large smudges of blood that showed up as dark lines on his green-grey skin. He bared his fangs at the men closest to him, those who still had their axes clutched in their fists, and they immediately fainted. The Fear stupefied Marla, but one word still remained after all other thoughts had left her head.
Gargoyle.
Everything went silent. The entire world stood still. Marla was unsure if the fire had been put out, or if it was still burning the barn before her to the ground. She was unable to focus on anything. She was mutely aware of her heart beating, she could feel its sluggish pounding throughout her entire body, but all of her concentration was centered on the creature before her.
The gargoyle looked over his shoulder to the burning barn. The wind battered the rain in through the large opening, causing the water to pool on the wooden floor. The smoke still hung heavy in the air, but the flames were slowly dissipating into darkness.
The gargoyle hesitated with a growl. His expression was torn. Almost reluctantly, Marla thought, he lowered himself to all fours and sprinted towards the trees. With a snap, two large bat-like wings unfurled from his back as he launched himself into the air. He grabbed an overhanging branch and, with superhuman strength, threw himself into the raging winds. Riding on the chaotic gusts, the gargoyle lifted into the sky until he disappeared into the clouds. Marla could feel a pop, as if air rushed to fill in a space that had been suddenly and unexpectedly emptied.
The spell was broken. The terror experienced melted away in mere moments. Warmth ran through Marla’s veins and it was as though the Fear had never existed. She took a shaky breath, trying to calm her burning lungs. She blinked repeatedly to clear her vision, wondering when it was that she had stopped breathing.
Chickens, as if released from an invisible barrier, scattered from the barn; distracting everyone and putting the men to work chasing them. A few withered sheep followed, bawling their displeasure, and Dylan, being the closest, tried to grab one before it ran back into the barn from confusion.
Countless cattle and pigs stampeded into the mud. Marla knew that the Cobbers dealt with animals instead of crops, but the sheer volume of them surprised her as they crowded around everyone. Even Thomas’s expression was shocked at the sight.
At the very end, after Marla was convinced that nothing else could possibly be left, a sturdy little mule came through the opening.
It was more like a donkey, she decided, and it seemed too stunned to understand what was going on. It kept its head down, plodding forward with a single-minded intensity that would have led it past everyone assembled and into the woods beyond.
Marla took a step forward and grabbed its tether to halt it in its tracks. Unexpected cold bit into her fingers and Marla jerked her hand back. Surprised, she looked down to see ice remnants melting in her hands.
“Frost?” she asked incredulously, barely believing what she saw. Marla looked over the donkey and lurched forward with surprise. On his other side, almost hidden from view, stood a small red-headed child of about five years. The girl clutched the mane of the stocky donkey and walked with him calmly. Her face was dirty and tear-stained, but she seemed relatively unharmed.
“Thomas!” Marla’s voice rose in pitch as she snatched her forgotten medicine bag from the muddy ground.
“Toads!” he swore, abandoning his chase of a running chicken to grab a dry blanket from inside the covered wagon. “Is she alrigh’?”
“She’s in shock,” Marla said, peering into the girl’s blank hazel eyes. Carefully, she pried the small fist from its grip on the donkey’s mane.
A thin chain was wound around the girl’s open hand. Marla detangled it from her fingers and held it up for a better look. Ornate strands of darkened silver hugged a cloudy white gem that was nestled in its centre. The thin metal delicately hugged the edges of the teardrop-shaped jewel, securing the treasure in place with an elegance that had Marla hurrying to put the necklace back where it belonged. Firelight shone off the facets of the tapered white gem as Marla carefully pried open the clasp.
“Come here little lass; little darlin’,” Marla said, soothingly. She slipped the pendant around the girl’s neck, tucking it out of sight under her tunic. “We ain’t gonna hurt you none.”