Wrath of the Forgotten: Descendants of the Fall Book II

they somehow managed to break free.
Despair wrapped its thorny tendrils around his heart and began to squeeze. In his mind he heard new whispers, not of the Tangata now but his own, commanding him to give up, to sit down and surrender to his fate.
Yet he stumbled on, legs burning, chest screaming, driven by some tiny, determined part of him to reach the morning, to survive the night. The Tangata were not immortal; they could be defeated. All Lukys could do was wait, and hope.
Almost imperceptibly, the light began to grow, the sounds of the night retreating. Focused on the rhythm of the march, Lukys didn’t notice at first. Eventually though, he began to make out shapes on the ground before him, tree roots and fallen branches, rocks and the footprints of creatures that walked before him.
Blinking, he lifted his head and felt a tingle of triumph. The red light of dawn now filtered through the winter forest. The Tangata had kept to the lowlands—that much he knew from the gentle terrain they had traversed—and the canopy was low above their heads, empty branches reaching for them like claws. The sky was clearly visible, though grey clouds stretched out as far as the eye could see.
Lukys was no woodsman, but there was only one direction the creatures could be taking them—south, towards those unknown regions beyond the broken Agzor Fortress, to the ancestral homeland of the Tangata.
The thought twisted his bowels into knots. They were passing now through the fallen kingdom of Calafe. Just six months ago, with their armies broken, the last of its people had fled north into Flumeer. Only the Tangata roamed these lands now. But at least they still bore the echoes of that lost civilisation. What would they find in the Tangatan homeland, unknown to humanity for centuries?
Their captors did not stop with the emergence of the day, and though the light made the going easier, Lukys could feel his final reserves of strength dwindling. The last weeks had taken their toll and now he desperately needed rest. Dale could hardly be any better. Yet still the female who led them continued, her brethren slipping through the forest in their silent manner.
“How much farther?”
The words slipped from Lukys in a desperate gasp. Even as he spoke them, he stumbled, his weakened legs tripping on a rock that protruded from the hard ground. With his hands bound he was unable to steady himself, and he slumped to one knee. The rope tightened around his neck, but thankfully the Tangata had stopped at the sound.
Slowly she turned, and Lukys felt a bolt of fear as solid grey eyes fell upon him. Those eyes were the mark of the Tangata, the only outward difference to a human. Yet they meant everything. In those eyes, Lukys could see his death.
Not long now, human.
Lukys’s skin crawled as the voice whispered directly into his mind. The whispers around them remained indistinct, but this creature’s words were crisp, clear. Their presence in his innermost thoughts felt like a violation, and he wondered what else the Tangata might be capable of. Could the monster before him read his mind? Was she doing it even now? He swallowed, staring into those cold eyes, but seeing no signs of emotion.
Finally he nodded and carefully pulled himself back to his feet. The Tangata regarded him for a long moment, then turned and started off again. A tug on the rope urged Lukys to follow.
“It’s useless,” a voice gasped from behind him, “I…can’t keep up…sorry, Lukys.”
“Don’t give up,” Lukys hissed, glancing back at Dale. “We’re almost there.”
A frown touched his friend’s forehead. “What?” he rasped. “How…do you know?”
“I…” Lukys hesitated.
He hadn’t told the other recruit about the whispers. What would Dale think if he discovered Lukys could hear the enemy? It seemed…treacherous, blasphemous even. No, better he keep it a secret for now, until he learnt more about this new ability.
“They can’t run forever,” he said instead. “Even the Tangata have to rest.”
Despair shone from Dale’s eyes, but after a long moment, he nodded and lowered his head. Lukys breathed a sigh of relief as the man continued walking. He didn’t know what the creatures had in store for them, but the thought of being left alone with the beasts…it didn’t bear thinking about.
Lukys stumbled as the rope around his neck suddenly went slack. He looked up, surprised to find that the female Tangata had come to a stop. Her silver eyes were watching him again, and he quickly looked away, unable to hold that eerie gaze. Movement came from nearby as the others emerged from the trees.
Rest. The voice seemed cold in his mind, like a ghostly breath upon his neck. We will stay here a time.
He forced himself to meet the female’s gaze. No more words were forthcoming, and after a drawn-out moment, Lukys turned to Dale.
“I think we’re stopping here.”
The recruit didn’t wait for confirmation. He slumped to the ground and leaned against a nearby tree trunk, a moan slipping from his mouth. Lukys longed to join him, but instead he turned to inspect their surroundings.
The forest had thinned here, the canopy opening to grant them a view of the nearby hills. What Lukys saw confirmed his suspicions from the night. They were moving through one of the southern passageways—long, flat valleys that ran for hundreds of miles, so straight that some claimed they’d been carved from the earth by the Gods themselves. There were some in Flumeer as well—Lukys and his fellow Perfugians had taken one on their journey to the frontier. But that passageway had ended some fifty miles from the town of Fogmore, forcing them to climb the foothills to reach their destination.
There was no sign of an end to this passageway, though. Stark cliffs stretched away into the distance, their tops covered by a scattering of deciduous forest. Standing amidst the grandeur of that landscape, Lukys could understand how some had come to associate them with the Gods. Many were