Asunder: A Gathering of Chaos Cameron Hopkin (read a book txt) 📖

actual infiltration. Kojan was supposed to help, but…” He shrugged. “My hope is that you’ll never have to come face-to-face with the beasts.” He dumped a skinned tuber into the folds of his robe and started on another one.

“You hope? Hope is for when you want rain, or to win a card game, not for dealing with snake people,” she said. She was trying to be funny, but he could see how scared the girl was. “I hate this idea. Why? Why would you seek out the Naga?” She jabbed at the fire with a stick just as Renna stepped forward to put the turtle-shell pot on a flat stone at the edge of the fire. The Hand hissed in annoyance as sparks flew, but Nira ignored her.

“The Naga have the thing,” said Renna, who had already pumped Gamarron for this information weeks earlier. “In the vision, the glowing thing – it’s a Chaos Shard.”

Gamarron was glad the Hand took over the conversation. He didn’t feel comfortable talking about their plans. It felt almost as if someone might be listening.

Renna continued. “It’s exactly what we thought: an object of power. With that, Gamarron can defeat the demon lord. It’s the start of everything.”

Nira grunted, not looking at Renna. “We have this Guyrin fellow now. Who cares what the Naga have squirreled away in their nasty little den? We have a man who can literally reshape reality as he pleases. Let’s head north, drop him off, and point him in the right direction. Poof. Done. Right?” She looked to Kest for support, who nodded encouragingly.

“You’ve seen the demon. Bakal.” Gamarron spoke quietly, but everyone stilled.

Nira nodded reluctantly.

“He can burn with a touch,” Gamarron said. “He can cut down the strongest fighter. More importantly, he can... when he destroyed my people, I think I sensed... I fear that he can influence minds. Guyrin is unsteady enough already – can you imagine what havoc he might wreak if the demon lord masters his will?” He shook his head, trying to scatter the confused memory of that awful night. “Besides which, according to Kojan and his sources, the Naga’s glass Shard holds as much Chaos as a score of such men together. Guyrin is not the weapon that will defeat him. We need the Shard’s power.”

Kest squirmed in his seat. “Then...” He clamped his mouth shut and shook his head.

“Please, Kest, speak.”

The lad took a deep breath. “Then why did we risk so much to take him? We nearly died, all of us.”

An excellent question. If only I knew the answer. He had tried to seek out the root of his sudden, obsessive need to have the chaos wielder accompany them, and while he was able to produce convincing excuses, he recognized them as just that. He was deeply uneasy with things he could not explain, especially when those things were inside his own mind. “Guyrin will ease our path. There are other challenges we must face before we reach Bakal.”

“He won’t ease much of anything doped up and tied down,” muttered Nira. “He’s dead weight. Except he could blow up.”

“That will change,” said Renna. “The mixture I’m giving him doesn’t just keep him sleeping, it also extracts the toxins from the all the hash he was taking. In less than a week he should feel no more draw toward the drug.”

“How kind of you,” Nira said flatly. “I’m so glad his mind will be nice and clear when he turns us into marionettes and dances us through the fire pit. What a relief.”

“He won’t want to,” Renna replied confidently. She held up a vidrin phial with a gum-rubber dropper capping it. “He’s going to crave this instead, and I’m the only one that makes it.”

Nira grimaced. “Does it really not bother you being such a scheming bitch?”

The Weaver Hand sniffed. “I’m the one that’s going to keep him on our side when he wakes… and that keeps you alive. You might show a little gratitude. Besides, this is the most common way to keep a chaos wielder. The only way, really.”

“She’s right,” came a weak voice from the tree line.

They were all on their feet in a heartbeat, ready to flee or fight, for there stood the chaos wielder on unsteady legs, supporting himself against a tree trunk. He was barefoot and wrapped in a brown dress several sizes too large. It was all they could find in the crofters’ stolen laundry that covered him.

He looked alarmed as he saw their fright and waved weakly at them. “No, no, please. I won’t hurt you. I’m so tired, I couldn’t even if I wished it.” He sighed, drooping. “Please, can I sit? I feel weak.” The tubby young man seemed barely more than a boy, his attitude of despair made absurd by the stained, tattered lace at his neck and wrists.

Everyone looked to Gamarron. He was as surprised as any of them. When he saw the chaos wielder awake, he’d assumed he was drawing his last breaths. But if not... “Be welcome, young man,” he said gently. “There’s plenty of room.”

Guyrin shuffled forward, his smile turning bitter as the others shrank away from him. Still, his sigh of relief was genuine as he sank onto an overturned log. “Thank you. My legs ache after just a few steps.”

“Hash withdrawal,” said Renna as she tossed torn sausage bits to the stew. “It’s evil, that stuff. It inflames the joints, and the only real relief is to take more.” She eyed the young man with something approaching sympathy. “It will take months to work it out of your system entirely.”

The young man nodded, his brow knitted in consternation. “You don’t have any more, do you?” The hope in his voice was painful.

Renna shook her head.

“Well,” he said hollowly, “I guess there are worse things.”

The Hand pulled forth her phial. “Here,” she said, thumbing the soft cap to pull the clear liquid into the dropper. “This will help. Open.”

She leaned over toward him, putting the tip near his