Cantash Read online

  Cantash

  Book Four of the Lissae Series

  R. Lennard

  To Jodie,

  Bought some full stops. Just for you.

  Thank you for being such a brilliant friend.

  Copyright

  Cantash

  First published in 2022 by R. Lennard

  Copyright © Rebecca Lennard, 2022 Cover Design © Vanesa Garkova, 2020

  Map Designs © R. Lennard, 2022

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the Australian Copyright Act 1968 (for example, fair dealing for the purposes of study, research, criticism, or review), no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, communicated or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission.

  All inquiries should be made to the author.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental or unintentional.

  Edited by Anna at CREATING ink.

  Published by Rebecca Lennard.lissae.com

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  1. Chapter Two

  2. Chapter Three

  3. Chapter Four

  4. Chapter Five

  5. Chapter Six

  6. Chapter Seven

  7. Chapter Eight

  8. Chapter Nine

  9. Chapter Ten

  10. Chapter Eleven

  11. Chapter Twelve

  12. Chapter Thirteen

  13. Chapter Fourteen

  14. Chapter Fifteen

  15. Chapter Sixteen

  16. Chapter Seventeen

  17. Chapter Eighteen

  18. Chapter Nineteen

  19. Chapter Twenty

  20. Chapter Twenty-One

  21. Chapter Twenty-Two

  22. Chapter Twenty-Three

  23. Chapter Twenty-Four

  24. Chapter Twenty-Five

  25. Chapter Twenty-Six

  26. Chapter Twenty-Seven

  27. Chapter Twenty-Eight

  28. Chapter Twenty-Nine

  29. Chapter Thirty

  30. Chapter Thirty-One

  31. Chapter Thirty-Two

  32. Chapter Thirty-Three

  33. Chapter Thirty-Four

  34. Chapter Thirty-Five

  35. Chapter Thirty-Six

  36. Chapter Thirty-Seven

  37. Chapter Thirty-Eight

  To be continued...

  Sneak Peek

  38. Glossary

  39. Beings and creatures

  40. Map of Cantash

  Map of Altum

  Enjoy this book?

  Acknowledgements

  About the author

  After more to read?

  Newsletter

  Prologue

  Autumn 4039

  An angry snarl of multihued clouds swirled just above the surface of a blood-soaked battlefield.

  ‘It is time.’ The message was sent and repeated.

  Word had travelled that the Dark Conclave was due to start any day, which had the Xanderri buzzing with joy. With their oldest enemies gathered in the same place, they would be able to fell them all in one go.

  But even more important than the conclave were the whispers that Lissae was weakening. If there ever was a moment to move, it would be now.

  The clouds lowered, covering the few survivors as they struggled to their feet.

  They never made it.

  Bodies fell. Useless things driving suits of flesh and bone. Far better to be above such physical needs.

  After feasting on the last of the dying Innarnians, the Xanderri left the bodies to rot, then pondered their next move.

  Without a host, it would take days to cross the half a click to the gateway. Despite their disdain for such things, a physical form was needed so their attack could begin.

  Something sparked within the cloud-like shapes as the Xanderri laughed, drifting along on the currents.

  A lone Innarnian was stumbling back to the gateway, hand pressed tight against her midsection.

  The Xanderri swirled around her, drawing closer.

  “Must… get… home. Need to see Lissa…” She fell to her knees, panting.

  ‘Lissae?’ the Xanderri wondered.

  If a cloud could grin, they would have.

  They had found their form.

  Autumn 4045

  Sarina glided through the gateway, mist clinging to her head and fogging her thoughts.

  Sweeping along the halls of the Portal was no problem, even with the bloodstain soaking her shirt. Entering Lissae’s double doors was the work of one fleshy foot in front of the other.

  And the Xanderri were through.

  For months, life was good. They allowed Sarina to return to her dwelling, and discovered Lissa was their host’s newborn daughter, a shortened version of the Realm their host called home. Much to their disgust, something about the very air in Lissae weakened them.

  With the love of her child filling her, Sarina was strong.

  Just not strong enough to contain the Xanderri she carried with her.

  After years of fighting, something inside the Innarnian snapped, and Sarina could no longer encompass her magic and the Xanderri.

  One day, whilst she was paying homage to the leader of her nation, the excitement was too much. The vibrations were too high, and Sarina was everywhere.

  The backlash from her Innarn escaping melted the flesh off the face of a leader, but the Xanderri were not worried.

  They had found a host.

  Chamele.

  Chapter One

  Permian

  Suncrest 4060 – Third month of Summer

  A growl rose from his throat as a flash of flames licked at Samuel, leaving a blur of pain with every sizzle and slice of his skin. Time seemed to slow as soon as the battle started and he fought beside Jonathan in the squishy form the Guardian was familiar with.

  They had been on Permian for far too long now, steadily clearing out the oozing mess created by the Denfur. A race of gelatinous beings, the Denfur had entered from a neighbouring Realm intending to make the locals into a slave army who would, in turn, take over Lissae.

  Everyone is becoming more desperate to take over the Mother Realm. Samuel’s thoughts turned to his own race, and he shivered at what his Queen’s desperation would look like. His inattention earned him another wound, a curse spilling from his lips as a blade sliced through his ridiculously thin bipedal hide.

  His back to Jonathan, Samuel transformed his hand into a claw and ripped the guts out of his final foe, fangs gleaming as he grinned in triumph.

  Silver glinted against the bark of the thin tree trunks as someone moved, their form flitting in front of the red moon, the glow bouncing off familiar scales.

  A twang of a bowstring had his head snapping to the side.

  The Guardian may have been strong, but Samuel knew the shooter, and even Jonathan’s shields would crumble before it.

  If the target had been anyone else, he would have let the arrow find its mark.

  Sighing, he transformed, his chest against Jonathan’s back. Even as scales replaced skin, the Guardian froze against him.

  ‘Arrow,’ Sam sent.

  Jonathan relaxed as much as one could in the middle of an ectoplasmic battlefield, the Guardian’s heartbeat racing as he continued to fight.

  Another arrow weaved through the air. Sanithane slapped it aside with a claw. Yet another swooped in from above. His massive golden wings enveloped the Guardian, protecting the squishy human from harm.

  He smiled down at Jonathan, who quirked his lips. ‘With a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth, you inspire more pants-filling fear than any sort of joy.’

  The Q’Aralide shuddered.

  ‘Sam?’

  ‘Knarec arrow,’ he grunted. ‘No matter how many times I do that, it still hurts like a fempar.’

  Cautiously lifting his maw, Sanithane took a quick glance around. The battlefield had cleared.

  Apparently, no one wanted to be in the presence of the Q’Aralide priest.

  Releasing Jonathan from the shield he’d created with his wings, Samuel carefully tucked his tail in and pivoted.

  In four long strides, he crossed to where the archer was hiding behind a boulder, claws trembling as he tried to notch another arrow. Sanithane didn’t give him a chance. He reached down and bit the Knarec in half.

  Blood and entrails dripping from his maw, he spat out the shooter. A swift blast of Air and Water Innarn and his maw was clean enough for him to return to the Guardian.

  Jonathan was hiding his face with a hand. “Not everyone needs to be bitten in half, you know?”

  ‘If you have it, use it.’ Sanithane smirked.

  ‘And what do you think Shari would say if she were here? Or if anyone else from Lissae had been with us?’

  Sanithane blinked and shuddered as his scales withdrew, and he resumed his fleshy form once again. “Claim to be a shapeshifter?” He shrugged, trying to belie the churning of his gut. After all Shari had endured, was she ready to discover his true nature?

  Not yet. The voice whispering inside his head reminded him far too much of Izarrk. Samuel shook his head. He hadn’t thought of his original mentor in centuries. She needs more time. Izarrk’s voice sounded again, and Samuel shuddered.

  No matter how much time he gave Shari, he had a feeling it wouldn’t be enough.

  Ducibus’ Hall

  The ground under their feet heaved.
br />   Amara glanced at the rest of the Altoriae’s Guild, wide-eyed as the walls of the museum on Ronah seemed to shudder. White particles drifted from the ceiling. She turned to ask the Guardian what had happened, but the double doors had already swung closed.

  They were on their own.

  As she swung back to the group, the Returned look at each other and shrugged. They were expected elsewhere. As a group, they stepped through the doors and into the Ducibus’ Hall, the rest of the guild following along.

  “What, exactly, are we meant to be doing?” Alistair asked.

  “While the attack on Wiaxatale’s gateway has cleared, they’ve asked for help with the clean-up and relocation of the bodies of the fallen,” Amara said.

  The group swung into the darkest of the Light corridors, their footsteps echoing as they drew closer to the tiny, grey-cloaked figure waiting for them. A steel door with bolt heads around the border swung open. Amara bowed at their guide and stepped through.

  Groaning, she covered the lower part of her face. The stench was overpowering, making her eyes water. She tried not to gag, but as the closest Returned reached around and poked at a fallen giant, the smell of death grew too much, and she rushed to the side to revisit her lunch.

  And possibly last week’s breakfast.

  Amara wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve and turned to survey the area.

  The Returned had set up a neat system. Three wore bubbles around their heads, presumably to keep the smell out, while casting the same on the others in the group who were using Fire Innarn to burn the corpses to ash.

  Trying to quell her heaving stomach, Amara moved closer, tempering her fire and adding her flames to the rest.

  If the smell was any sign, they were going to be here for a while.

  Tocithas

  Tendrils of hair escaped Shari’s plait and mingled with the blood drifting past her nose in the water.

  It was her own fault, really. She should have ducked instead of twisted when the zarsuth came out of the depths. Now the ancient aquatic fish with a penchant for fresh meat had her scent.

  Shari had long heard tales of how beautiful and serene Tocithas was. She’d barely had a moment to appreciate the forest of seaweed racing past below her, or the stunning coral architecture that was said to adorn Startide, the capital of the Realm and home to the Aestques.

  The ancient, mammoth fish was proving to be a merciless pursuer.

  The water surrounding her trembled, and Shari pushed her Innarn outwards to find a huge capsule of ice rocketing out of the depths.

  Shari used Air Innarn to propel herself, narrowly missing the zarsuth’s open mouth. The ice capsule ploughed right into the smooth-scaled hide, shattering on impact. A dozen warriors armed with sleek spears rolled from the wreckage.

  The Aestques warriors took up positions along the flanks of the zarsuth. Fingertips touching their closest neighbour, they brought their hands down, slamming spear butts and shards of ice along the beast’s hide.

  The zarsuth swung around, head aiming straight at Shari as it dived. A tooth jutting out from the side of the massive maw snagged against the armour around her waist, sliding through it like butter. The warrior on the other side of the beast caught Shari’s eye as she hastily stitched the tear with her Innarn.

  Ze quirked zir eyebrows at her, and Shari shrugged. Zir nodded at the blood still streaming from her nose.

  Groaning at her incompetence, Shari syphoned it away, creating a little Innarn pouch to store the spilt blood in. She didn’t dare try to put it back in her body when she was on another Realm.

  Scent lost, the zarsuth circled the warriors and Shari once more. It opened its mouth, and the surrounding water rippled.

  The warriors were still. As much as she wanted to swim away from the beast with teeth larger than she was tall, Shari copied them.

  Scales gleaming and tail flicking, the zarsuth dived, heading back for the inky depths of its home.

  Shari sighed.

  ‘So, Altoriae, you finally made it,’ the warrior opposite her sent.

  ‘I apologise. I’ve heard your call for some time, but things have been…’ Difficult? Dangerous? Deadly? Dare she admit such a weakness to a being she just met? ‘Busy on Lissae.’

  ‘And off, by what the currents have flowed to our ears.’

  Offering a tiny grin, Shari nodded.

  ‘We were hoping to get word to you, Altoriae. Of the Light hiding in the deep. It seeks you, and we fear it won’t rest until you are no more.’ Ze’s large purple eyes were wide, and Shari could feel the concern drifting through the water to her from all the warriors present.

  ‘I am not a warrior, Altoriae. I am Prime Lakin, second in line to the Throne of Startide and the people of Tocithas.’

  ‘Well met, Prime Lakin.’ Shari bowed her head. ‘I’m afraid I don’t really understand your warning. How can light hide in the deep?’

  Lakin slowly closed ze’s eyes. The warriors around the Prime shifted uncomfortably. ‘You will understand sooner than we hope. Return to Lissae, and stay on guard, Altoriae.’

  Shari was mildly disappointed but bowed as best she could in the water. Lakin grinned at her efforts, and as quickly as the Aestques had arrived, they were gone again.

  Alone once more, Shari leisurely took her time getting back to the gateway. The forest she’d longed to see passed by mostly unnoticed as she tried to puzzle out Prime Lakin’s words.

  Lissae

  Samuel slumped through the gateway, intent only on his bed and making sure the shadow under it had enough food to survive after Shari ended his life.

  The girl in question was waiting for him on the other side, leaning against the opposite wall. Her gaze was dark as it met his.

  “Well met, Samuel,” Shari purred. Her hips swayed as she stepped forward and plastered herself to his side.

  He froze.

  Jonathan stumbled into his back as the Guardian tried to exit the gateway.

  Samuel couldn’t move as Shari ran a hand over his chest, nuzzling her nose into his neck.

  Did I die? Did Jonathan actually kill me, and I just didn’t realise?

  ‘Don’t be a fool. You’re very much alive. But Shari—.’

  White noise blanked out whatever Jonathan sent to him next, as Shari’s tongue found the back of his ear. He made a suspicious squeaking noise as his knees almost buckled. Humanoid forms will never cease to amaze me.

  Part of him noted the Guardian moving around him, the brown tuft of his hair appearing on the opposite side of Shari. Boot steps sounded as his brain was kicked back into gear by Shari biting down on his earlobe.

  Of all the beings in the Realms, Samuel expected the Altoriae to know he’d had enough pain already.

  Gently, he grasped her by the arms and pulled her away. She made a disappointed noise and reached for him, only to be stopped by a yellow blade appearing at her throat.

  Samuel growled, eyes flicking to the side, his gaze landing on a second Shari.

  The first flinched away from the blade. “Protect me from the imposter!” she cried.

  Shari, begging for help? Roughly, he marched her backwards until she hit the opposite wall. “Who are you?”

  The real Shari snorted behind him. “I thought you were going to eat her face before you got around to that question.”

  Wrinkling his nose, he stared hard at the fake. She met his gaze, chin up, but the longer he stared, the lower her chin got.

  Lifting his forearm so it was in her field of view, he changed his arm enough so that scales appeared. Steeling his features, he ripped one from his skin.

  Ignoring the twin gasps from identical girls, he pressed the still dripping scale onto the imposter’s forehead, right where he expected her third eye to be.

  She screamed and writhed as his blood dribbled down her nose. If it reached her mouth, she’d die. There was one option for survival—she had to change back to her natural form.

  The pitch black line drip off the tip of her nose.

  Only she didn’t have a nose any more. The black line seemed to spread and lighten. If his hand hadn’t been pressing against her skin, he would have lost the being among the shadows.

  “Jonathan?”

  Obligingly, the Guardian created a cage around the being, leaving just enough space between the bars for his hand to withdraw.