The Hammer - Cor Series Book I

A low cry escaped Corvan’s lips and tears streamed down his cheeks at the sight of the old man in the water. Jokten’s hand still firmly clutched the shattered end of the wooden spear he had used to save Corvan from the monster, yet his face was peaceful, as if he were only dreaming.

Groaning and slipping on the slick stones, Corvan managed to pull the body onto the shore, then collapsed on the gravel. His father had often told him that if he would do what was right, the answers would come in their own time. He tried his best to save Jokten, but the man had died anyway. Now there were no answers and no way out of this terrible place. Kate would die and be buried far from her home. Buried? They were in a dark world far underground. They were as good as dead and buried already.

His tears gave way to sobs that shook his aching body. What was the point of even trying to do what was right? Pain and death were everywhere. He could never win.

His father’s voice came to him as if his dad were sitting beside him on the shore. “Love and pain flow together though all of life. The more you choose to love in this broken world, the more you will need to endure pain.”

Wiping his tears away with the back of his sleeve he looked down at Jokten. A wry smile was embedded in the corners of the man’s mouth, the same smile that he wore while swinging the spear behind the beast. The old man had lived and died on his own terms. Perhaps that was the point. In the end, loving through the pain changed you for the better.

A muted shout slipped through the fog and then another. The soldiers and the Seeker were on their way. There was no way he would let them take Jokten’s body to the palace. The old man deserved a proper burial.

At some time in the past the stream had changed direction, leaving a raised island between the dry gravel creek bed and the rushing water. Pulling the body onto the high spot, he laid it out.

Prying the broken spear from Jokten’s grasp, he set it aside and folded the cold hand onto Jokten’s chest. Reaching over the man, he pulled the other arm into position and as he did, the soggy sleeve of Jokten’s robe slipped back revealing the other hand wrapped tightly around the hammer’s handle.

Corvan looked in amazement at the angular stone head before placing his hand under it. The hammer slid easily from Jokten’s grasp, as if the man was giving it back to him and the blue letters sprang to life on Jokten’s face, highlighting the crinkles around his eyes and the happy lines etched around his mouth.

Corvan struggled to his feet and held the hammer aloft in both hands. It pierced the fog overhead, the blue glow filling the area around him and reflecting on the water below. He breathed deeply then pulled its radiant comfort in against his chest. “It’s good to have you back again,” he murmured, and the blue light ebbed strongly in response. He nodded down to Jokten, “You gave your life to save me and the hammer. I promise I will do my best to honor what you lived and died for.”

Placing the hammer back in his holster, he gathered flat stones from the dry creek bed to pile around and over the dead man. The work was painful at first, but as he moved, his joints loosened up and his movements became easier. When he was done, he took the broken spear and stuck it upright in the cracks of the pile.

As he stepped back to inspect the cairn, he almost tripped over Tsarek.

“I did not want to interrupt you.” Tsarek said, jumping off the low rock he’d been sitting on. “I wanted to tell you earlier that I did not think your past-father survived the blast.”

“Jokten was not my past-father, Tsarek. That is my grandfather that died at the entry under the Castle Rock.”

Tsarek nodded. “I know about that one, but Jokten was also one of your family, from those left behind in the Cor.”

Corvan looked back to the cairn. No wonder Jokten looked so much like his father. Tears began to fall again, and he shook his head firmly and tried to wipe them away. He’d been so close to discovering more about his connection to the Cor and finding someone to help him.

Tsarek came up beside him and tucked a soft cloth into his hand. As Corvan wiped his eyes with it, a tender scent permeated his mind and soothed his sorrows.

“Did I do well, Kalian? Does it make you happy to have it back?” his friend asked.

Tyreth’s white scarf was in his hand. “How did you get this?” Corvan asked.

Tsarek chortled. “The Seeker was walking along the path in the fog with all the soldiers following in a line. He was holding the white cloth out in front of him like a flag. I was very still and when he walked by, I leaped across the path, snatched it from his hand, and fled before he could even move.” The lizard grimaced and Corvan saw the fear steal into his eyes. “But I touched the Seeker’s hand when I grabbed the cloth. Now it will know that I am back in the Cor and will report my presence to its master.” He pointed across the water. “We must go quickly to Kate and find a way out of the settlement, for I also must leave the Cor forever and never return.”

Corvan looped the scarf around his neck and tucked it into his cloak. How could he leave the Cor and betray Jokten’s hope in him and the sacrifice he had made? Jorad had said that Tyreth’s life was now connected to the life of the Cor, to the red seeds tucked away in Corvan’s cloak. If he chose to run away now and abandon Tyreth, the darkness would close in on Kadir. Their food would run out and all the people of the Cor would starve to death in the black void, people like Rayu, Gavyn, Garek and Madam Toreg.

His had went to the holster at his side. He had promised Madam Toreg on the hammer that he would do his best to save Tyreth. If there was any hope for her and the rest of the Cor, he had to put the needs of others above his own safety, even above the life of his best friend.

“We need to move quickly,” the lizard urged, touching his hand. “Kate needs our help, and the seeker is coming.”

“No, Tsarek.” Corvan turned toward the river. “I am going back to the city.”

Tsarek’s eyes grew wide. “The city? The palace and the Rakash are searching for you, and now they will be looking for me as well. No, Kalian, we must not go to the city. It is a terrible place and they have done cruel things to my kind in the city.”

Corvan pulled out the hammer and pointed its circle of three words on the stones between them. “Tsarek, I made a promise that I would help rescue Tyreth from the Palace prison. I have been there and I know the way, but I need your help. I can’t do it alone.”

The lizard took a step back from the blue words. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place?”

Corvan looked intently at the hammer in his hand, then leaned forward to place it on top of a flat boulder. He took two steps away from it and turned to the lizard. “Do you think I should leave the hammer here?”

“Oh no!” Tsarek hopped over to the hammer. “You will need it to rescue the girl. Please pick it up and bring it along. I will try to be more brave when you hold it’s light.”

Corvan smiled. “I just wanted to make sure I could still understand you even when I’m not holding it.”

Tsarek looked confused.

“Something has changed between us,” Corvan said. “Even though I am not holding hammer, I still understood everything you said.”

Tsarek let out a low hiss and looked between Corvan and the hammer. “I don’t know how—” A wide smile spread across his face. “But I am very glad.”

They stood looking at each other for a moment before Tsarek turned away, entered the stream and dog paddled out into the middle. Grabbing the hammer, Corvan holstered it and waded in after him.

Halfway across, the water was up to his waist, and the current threatened to sweep his feet off the slick rocks. The roar of the falls just beyond the bend sounded a constant warning in his ears. One misstep and he would be swept into the abyss. The swift flowing water was sweeping Tsarek farther downstream, but he was making some progress at getting across to the other side.

Focusing on his goal Corvan struggled forward. The fog was thinner on the other side and he pulled himself out and up the steep bank. Tsarek was nowhere to be seen but there was enough pale blue light from above to make his way downstream. The roar of the falls grew louder.

“I would appreciate your help,” a voice called from below. Tsarek was chest deep in a rocky bay, a pile of smaller capped fire sticks gathered on the shore. “I found these swirling around in here. We will need them.” Getting out of the water, he handed the sticks up to Corvan then scrambled on all fours to the top of bank. Pulling out some of the long grasses that grew in tufts between the rocks, Tsarek tied the sticks together and slung the bundle over his back.

With a jerk of his head, Tsarek led the way along the edge of the creek to where it joined the main river. “The river road is up there,” Tsarek said, pointing overhead. “You should go first.”

Picking his way up a slope of broken rocks and paving stones, Corvan emerged onto the high levee. The fields were on his right and far ahead he could see the water control structure where he and Jorad had climbed down into the dry aqueduct.

There was a tug at his feet as Tsarek grabbed the cuff of Corvan’s jeans and hauled himself up onto the road. He grinned. “It is not a good idea to fall back onto a pile of fire sticks, even if they are small ones.”

“So why do we need them?” Corvan asked.

“I discovered something that no one else knows.” Tsarek smiled proudly. “You can breathe underwater by breathing air back through the stem.”

“How does that work?”

“I’ll show you.” Tsarek set the bundle down, pulled out a a short stick, and carefully trimmed the bark away from the butt end with his claw, as if he were sharpening a pencil. Uncapping it, he stuck the trimmed end into his mouth and walked along like a businessman with an expensive cigar that glowed with each breath. “They don’t last as long this way, but it works great for swimming under the water. Somehow the water you suck in becomes air you can breathe.”

“Let me try it.”

Tsarek’s eyes twinkled. “I will make one for you.” He picked through his bundle and trimmed up the smallest of the sticks. He held it out to Corvan. “Are you certain you want to try it?” He pulled it away again. “It tastes bitter and hurts the lungs a bit. It might be too strong for someone as young as you.”

Corvan plucked the stick from the lizard and flicked off the cap. He’d tried smoking cigarettes a few times, this couldn’t be any worse. He pulled softly on the stick. Other than a mild bitter taste, he could breathe the incoming air without difficulty. He pulled in a deep breath and swaggered along beside his friend.

A loud bang sounded with a flash before his eyes. He squinted to find the smoking bark of his cigar stick peeled back toward his face.

Tsarek made a hissing sound as he grinned. “Oh yes. I forgot to tell you. You must trim them carefully and never make a nick on the bark with your claws.”

Corvan tossed the ruined stick into the water rushing by. The lizard hadn’t forgotten, he had just played a joke on him. “I thought you told me that you don’t laugh.”

Tsarek scratched the side of his head. “I cannot remember making that sound before. It must be because I am free from the band. You don’t have time to laugh when you are always angry.” He looked up at Corvan. “Would you like to try one of the larger sticks? They have a nicer flavor.”

Corvan shook his head, and they walked on in silence until they arrived at the bend in the river road where the dam and sluice gates used to let water into the irrigation system for the fields. Corvan looked out along the aqueduct they had used to travel to the Molakar settlement. Should he go first and check on Kate?

Tsarek suddenly pulled Corvan in tight against the small building that stuck out over the dam. The lizard jammed his scaly face up to Corvan’s ear. “Listen,” he whispered.

Corvan listened but all he could hear was the water rolling over the dam on the other side of the building. He shook his head at Tsarek, who gestured for him to stay hidden against the wall. “Stay here. I will be right back.” Tsarek got down on all fours and slipped around the corner of the building.

Corvan leaned his head against the cool stone wall and closed his eyes. It seemed he was always tired in this dark world. There was no way to know how regularly he had been sleeping or how many days he had been gone so far. Tsarek had said the door in the castle rock only opened every month. Surely, they had not been gone that long.

Tipping his head back, he opened his eyes to find an ugly stone gargoyle crouched above him on the corner of the roof. He was about to stand and get a better look at it when the head of the gargoyle swiveled around and beady eyes peered out over the fields.

The rantel had returned to find him.