Lost (War of Nytefall Book 2) Read online

  War of Nytefall:

  Lost

  Copyright 2018 © by Charles E. Yallowitz

  Kindle Edition

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law. Reviewers may quote brief excerpts in connection with a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design & Illustration by Alison Hunt

  War of Nytefall

  Loyalty

  Dedication

  To everyone who has entered Windemere

  And left their mark upon its soul

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  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

  Prologue

  The rocky coastline of northern Ralian is cloaked in fog, which helps to mask the battle raging in the hidden port. Tucked in a bay that is protected by jagged rocks, the small collection of piers has stood as the sole survivor of a great dockyard. The creaky walkways are flanked by light brown walls that show an etching of the area as it was prior to the Great Cataclysm merging the rest of the city with the stone. A single door stands at the back of the hollowed out cliffside, but it opens to nothing more than a large storehouse that now holds hundreds of crates marked for Nytefall. To reach the port, one has to either come by boat through the only safe path or challenge the slick mountainside that would take half a day for even the most experienced climber to successfully scale. That is until today since a small army of invaders has descended using enchanted gauntlets to punch gaping holes in the wet stone. Protected by their ebony night cloaks, the warriors of Nyte flow down the stones and leave trails of damage in their path. With every quake, the damage grows worse and cracks run across the cliff face, which is on the verge of collapsing to consume the beautiful reminder of early Windemere.

  Standing in the middle of the battle, a seven-foot Dawn Fang swings two giant swords to behead several enemies at once. Having been caught by surprise, Titus Winthrop is nothing more than blood-soaked pants and his metallic coat, which helps to deflect the weakest of his enemies’ attacks. The unique jacket is left open enough to show the horrific scars on his chest, the marks getting redder as he falls further into a barely controlled battle lust. A chop cuts a cloaked vampire in half and he kicks the remains into the water to join the other bobbing corpses, which have begun to attract sharks. He frowns at how the Dawn Fangs are being pushed back towards the churning ocean, but they are outnumbered by at least five to one. Even the barrage of elemental attacks and their superior strength is not enough to turn the tide since most of his companions are halflings who were turned for their sailing experience. The few with combat experience focus more on protecting their friends, which allows the invaders to continue gaining ground. Pushing further into the vampire army, Titus summons a spectral double that stands back-to-back with him and protects his flank.

  “Charge and kill the old guard!” the towering Dawn Fang roars, his voice echoing throughout the port. Magically inspired by his bellowing orders, the others cheer and rush their enemies with renewed strength. “I’ll never get tired of that. How’s the ship doing, Bob? I know you came back out after getting the supplies to safety. You’re the only one here who would whistle and dance during a battle. Don’t tell me you’re starting to get as bored as Clyde. Not sure we can handle both of you getting twitchy at the same time.”

  “Mab is taking care of the ship and letting off some steam,” Bob announces, the elf materializing next to his friend. Jabbing with his lance, he uses his other hand to pick bone chips out of his blonde and black hair. “I think she’s still angry that Clyde told her to stop robbing treasuries. That was a messy fight between them. Do you think she’s really going to stay away from Nytefall for the whole week? I’ve never seen them like this before.”

  “I have and it’ll blow over,” Titus admits while spinning his claymores. He cuts his own sides to lace the blades with his blood, which gives the metal a crimson tint. “Remember that we’re only pushing them back. Those who escape are not to be pursued, especially since this place is going to collapse at any moment. Wish I knew who told Tempest’s people about our secret port because now we’re down a supply line. It might be too late now, but I wouldn’t mind feeding the traitor his own spleen. Why are you shaking your head?”

  “I always said those ships would get followed one day.”

  “You just wanted us to use giant seahorses.”

  “I put a lot of work into those.”

  “And they were eaten by sharks.”

  “Not all of them.”

  “Yes, all of them.”

  “I mean, there are some scraps left that I could have cobbled together.”

  “Stick to land horses, Bob.”

  A horn erupts from somewhere high above the battle and Titus looks up in time to see a muscular figure drop from the sky. The hairy creature lands on a pier, which shatters and lets the new threat drop into the water. Bursting out of the ocean, the enemy Dawn Fang has a large shark by the tail and begins wielding it like a sword. A fanged orchid tattoo is on the General’s exposed chest, the white mark a symbol of his loyalty to the city of Nyte. Sprouting another pair of burly arms, he charges into the dwindling defenders and stomps on the halflings as they do their best to push him back. A constant roar ripples through everyone’s ears, which makes it difficult to focus and maintain their balance on the crumbling battleground. The psychic attack breaks the concentration of the vampirized halflings who are trying to use their various elemental powers, their blasts and orbs flying high above their targets. Anyone who dares to leap on the rampaging Dawn Fang is engulfed in a thick cloud of acidic gas that seeps from the man’s greasy skin. Falling into the water, the injured struggle to get back to shore before the ravenous sharks devour them whole.

  While Bob strips off his leather armor and dives into the ocean to convince the hungry predators to leave their people alone, Titus vaults over the taller enemy. He lets his double attack, the spectral blade striking the larger Dawn Fang’s shoulder, as he pumps more blood into his arms. Satisfied with his increased strength, the leader of the Vengeance Hounds whirls around to strike with the flat side of both blades. He curses when he sees that the other warrior is not sent flying like he had hoped, but is only pushed back a few steps. A faint ringing in his ears gives him an idea of what he is dealing with, but he stabs one of the sprouted arms and an original at the same time to confirm his suspicions. The newer limb is pierced without incident while his other sword makes it half an inch before striking metal. With a fang-bearing grin, Titus sheathes his claymores and casually punches the General in the nose. The blow is enough to dent the iron plate that has been implanted in the other vampire and leave the man’s face a mangled mess. Seeing wisps of acidic gas on his knuckles, the older Dawn Fang casually bends down to dip his arm into the water and wash off the dangerous fog.

  “Looks like we have another one of Kai’s projects,” Titus mutters as he smacks t
he snarling invader’s blows away. He is caught off-guard when a fifth arm erupts from the creature’s stomach and hits him in the chest to leave an immediate bruise. “This one shows some promise, but I think the implanted armor has made him more bestial. Real shame we can’t turn him to our side by talking. Probably a good thing you’re fighting me instead of my sister. She’s in a mood that means you’d suffer. I’m just going to kill you fast and-”

  Titus’s words are cut off when the General grows a third leg out of his knee and kicks the scarred Dawn Fang in the groin. Growling at the shock of pain, the warrior draws his claymores and backs away while running them across his arms. He stops at the edge of a broken pier and spins his weapons to make sure they are coated with his blood. An echoing roar is enough to crack the ceiling, which begins to collapse and drives the halflings into the ocean where they are carried by the sharks to the distant ship. Left alone against the nervous army, Titus drives them further into the crumbling port by battering their General with crushing blows. His blades slice through flesh and dent the metal beneath while the flailing Dawn Fang screams in agony. A fiery pain ripples through his suffering enemy’s body and makes it impossible to mount a counterattack that is more than a blind swing. When the cloaked invaders try to swarm the warrior, his double reappears with a crimson hue and delivers the same magical suffering on anyone it strikes.

  Focused entirely on the General, Titus slams the barbed hilts of his swords into the man’s chest. The thundering blows are enough to break the metal plates, which bow inward to stab at the invader’s organs. Blood pouring from the wound, the gasping warrior hisses and snarls, but backs away instead of attacking. Chunks of stone fall from above, which causes the more cowardly of the vampires to retreat up the damaged cliff face. Those who remain move behind their leader, but he angrily shoves them ahead in the hopes of creating a wall of bodies. Titus watches the General try to heal and chuckles when the frayed flesh can only twitch and stretch in vain. Feeling sorry for his opponent, the stronger Dawn Fang shoulders his way through the skittish crowd without losing speed and swings both of his swords. Striking from opposite sides, the blades slice through the larger vampire’s neck and sends his head toppling to the floor with a ringing thud. The instant the muscular corpse falls over, the remaining invaders retreat into the shadows and ocean.

  “They always scatter when their leader dies,” Titus mutters as he walks away. Trusting his double to protect him from the falling stone, he sheathes his weapons and rubs the sore spot on his chest. “Probably wouldn’t be having this problem if Clyde killed Xavier at the beginning, but I’m done arguing that point. Can’t change the past and maybe this war will do the Dawn Fangs some good. Brings all of us together and weeds out those who want to get turned solely for the power. Although, this war is getting rather dull.”

  “But you said it was too busy when we had daily battles during the first two years,” Bob interjects as he climbs out of the water. Tapping the waves with his foot, he calls forth a whale shark that stares up at the vampires. “This one agreed to carry us to the ship. She won’t let me put horseshoes on her fins though. So, do you prefer constant fighting or getting into a small skirmish like this every few months?”

  “I don’t know, old friend, but it feels like the last seventeen years haven’t brought either side closer to victory,” the towering vampire admits while stepping onto the animal. He is surprised at how fast it moves and checks its mouth to make sure it has not been turned. “Don’t get me wrong. I like that things are fairly peaceful and we can establish ourselves in secret, but I keep feeling like a disaster is on the horizon. I mean, things have to shift to one side eventually and it’s been too long since our world has been rocked by a surprise. Maybe I’m just being paranoid since our last war was fifty years of death and destruction. I should be happy that this one is much more low key and I haven’t had to bury many friends.”

  Bob waves as a ship looms out of the fog and his voice gradually breaks into a strange, lilting tune. “I smell danger on the wind. The birds and fish are calling. A child goes seeking in the shadows. I smell danger on the wind. Trouble will be reborn. Skipping, hopping, and dancing in sockless feet. The harbinger of our future is on the wind.”

  “That’s a terrible song.”

  “What song?”

  “The one you were just singing.”

  “I don’t know how to sing.”

  “That’s pretty obvious.”

  “When did we get so close to the ship?”

  Unnerved by his friend’s odd behavior, Titus puts Bob over his shoulder and grabs the rope that is thrown down to them. Climbing up to the deck, he shivers as the other Dawn Fang goes back to whispering the strange tune. For a brief moment, the warrior senses that they are being watched and stops to scan the foggy area. All he sees is a flicker of movement from the collapsing port, but he is sure it is nothing more than the falling stones.

  *****

  The urge to scream and hurl his goblet across the room is strong enough to make Xavier Tempest’s malleable features shift. His silver hair remains untouched, but his body grows a foot and begins to sprout thorns before he regains control. Looking down at his body, the Lord of Nyte changes his shirt from a ruffled tunic to a crimson peasant shirt. Touching the fabric, he is still amazed that it is really his skin, which can now take on the properties of nearly any material he can imagine. The only piece that is not a part of his body is a golden ring that he gingerly strokes with his thumb. Feeling rays of sunlight emerging from the clouds, Xavier snaps his fingers to fire a bouncing lightning bolt at the nearest wall. The spell bounds from one set of curtains to another and burns the ropes keeping them tied back. Plunged into darkness, the nobleman enjoys the soothing shadows until he hears someone clear their throat. Igniting the chandelier candles, he bathes the large room in light and casually leans back in his tarnished throne in the hopes of hiding his frustration. It is only when the tall and beautiful female orc next to him leans over to kiss his cheek that Xavier truly relaxes, her hand moving to place her matching ring against his own. The ancient vampire reaches out to caress Nadia Sylvan’s cheek, his flame-haired wife nuzzling his knuckles. His fingers move down to her neck where he touches a wooden pendant shaped like a sparrow in flight.

  “You don’t have to block the light on our behalf,” Kai Stavros mentions, his balding head pressed to the floor. The chubby vampire’s clothes are torn around the sleeves, which are held on by a few determined threads. “As I keep telling you, Lord Tempest, there is no reason to deny yourself the advantages of being a Dawn Fang. We know that it’s not a temporary condition like you had hoped, so we should work with it. You’ve already demonstrated great skill with your unique powers.”

  “I cannot tell if you are trying to praise me like your master or talk down to me like I am an impudent child,” Xavier growls as he pulls away from his wife. Leaving his throne, he steps off the small dais and stops within reach of his trusted adviser. “Clyde and Mab cursed us as some sick joke. I refuse to give them the satisfaction of completely turning me away from the perfection that I once was. Life as an abomination is unsightly for a creature like myself. Am I right, my love?”

  “We have already agreed to disagree, dear,” Nadia states from her throne. Claiming a chocolate-covered strawberry from a groaning golem’s hand, she turns her feet into a collection of ebony moths. “I believe they wanted us to suffer and stay angry. While I believe Mr. Stavros is talking out of place, he does have a point. We should accept what we are, but not that this is how it will always be. Stephanie and I are still working hard on discovering a cure for this dreadful disease that threatens our world. Now, this is not what we are here to discuss and I have a bath that I want to enjoy before dinner. Were we able to collect another blood-turned this time or did your newest creation fail?”

  The spymaster clears his throat and stands up, his ebony eyes meeting his master’s unnerving gaze. “Project Iron Flesh failed and has been lost due to
Titus Winthrop and Bob being at the port. If those two hadn’t been there, we could have gathered all of the Dawn Fang halflings. Not all of them were blood-turned, but we can always use more subjects for our experiments, especially with General Decker going out to kill them every week. My apologies for straying from the topic. I accept full responsibility since my creation proved to have insufficient healing abilities to handle some of our strongest targets. I still believe we can augment and enslave these abominations to some extent. Perhaps not Clyde and his gang, but the weaker ones who they have created by fang and blood. Unfortunately, it is proving difficult to find them once they integrate with mortal society. Not unless I get more agents or Mistress Talon’s scrying pierces whatever keeps the Dawn Fangs from her eyes.”

  Hearing her name, the vampiric calico snaps out of her trance and swishes her cat-like tail in annoyance. The four-foot-long body part sends a spray of red-tinted dust into the air as it puffs up to twice its thickness. Stephanie’s yellow eyes glow from her spot in the shadows where she has been sitting on the floor for the last two hours. Wearing a blood-stained gown that is on the verge of falling off her shoulders, the ritualist crawls into the light. She stops to lick at the white swirling tattoos on her skin before moving to within a few inches of Nadia’s bare feet, which are no longer fluttering moths. The vampire’s tufted ears twitch and she appears to be on the verge of tears until the Lady of Nyte runs her toes through the calico’s violet hair. She refuses to wince at the sensation of knots getting pulled, the thought of showing pain in front of the woman she adores never crossing her mind.

  “I don’t know why I can’t find them,” Stephanie says in a small voice. Hearing her mistress cough, she abruptly jumps to her feet and talks loud enough for her words to echo. “The problem could be solved by allowing me to turn into a Dawn Fang. That way, I will have a better understanding of their nature and be able to improve my rituals. As I have stated many times, I have a vial of Clyde’s blood that I can use, but I will only do so with your permission, Lady Sylvan. Please let me share in your curse and use whatever strength I gain to help return you to the perfect creature you once were.”