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  Amarah

  World of Linaria Book 3

  L.L. McNeil

  First published in Great Britain in 2019.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  All characters and events in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  Amarah © 2019 L. L. McNeil

  Three Dragon Publishing

  www.llmcneil.com

  Cover by Holly Jameson

  www.hollyjameson.co.uk

  For Pipkin, who keeps me on my toes by constantly tickling my knees.

  Contents

  Also by L.L. McNeil

  Acknowledgments

  Summary of Palom

  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

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Note from the Author

  Also by L.L. McNeil

  WORLD OF LINARIA

  NOVELS

  Moroda

  Palom

  Amarah

  NOVELLAS

  Rise of a Sky Pirate

  Acknowledgments

  This book would not be complete without Garage Fiction, Olivia, and Ian. I cannot thank you enough for your unending patience, support, advice, and encouragement. Thank you.

  To anyone who purchases my book, I am eternally grateful. It would mean the world and more if you would be kind enough to review Amarah.

  Summary of Palom

  In the aftermath of Aciel’s conquest, Palom, the blacksmith who forged the legendary Valta Forinja weapons with dragon-ore and defended Val Sharis, is hailed as a hero. He and his surviving allies—Amarah, the sky pirate, Morgen, of the Imperial Guard, and Kohl, an Arillian dragon-hunter and exile—are rewarded with gold by Princess Isa of Val Sharis and her half-brother Sapora, the new king of both Sereth and Val Sharis.

  The siblings’ other half-brother Tacio, accompanies Sapora into Val Sharis alongside his elite Varkain—the Cerastes. The three begin a tentative rule, allowing the hitherto despised Varkain to take up residence and work in the Val Sharis capital city: Taban Yul.

  Consumed by survivor’s guilt, Palom shuns the idea of being a hero. Morgen returns to Niversai, the capital of his home country of Corhaven, with Topeko, a scholar from the mage city of Berel. Amarah and Kohl, desperate to somehow restore the life of Moroda—who sacrificed herself to seal away Aciel in crystal with the power of a Sevastos—embark on a quest for greater magic that can undo the seal.

  Taban Yul is full of Ittallan who despise Sapora and his rule and seek to overthrow him. Many believe that Princess Isa, more of an Ittallan than her half-brother, is better suited to rule them as queen. An uprising begins in secret, led by Lathri, former lover of Palom and daughter of a former councilwoman whom Sapora had slain prior to his coronation.

  Although Palom wishes to stand by Lathri and rekindle their relationship, he is consumed by grief, shame, and paranoia, exacerbated by the cursed power of the Valta Forinja. Instead of joining Lathri, he leaves the city to escape his unwanted fame. He is ambushed by several Varkain and slaughters them in cold blood, turning King Sapora’s attention to him. In retaliation, Sapora releases the war criminal Mateli from prison—a powerful, dangerous Ittallan—and sets him after Palom.

  Kohl flies with Amarah to the Arillian floating islands in the distant north of Linaria, where she is permitted entry to his hometown of Oren by the enormous Ice Golem army which defends Arillians from outsiders. She is introduced to the Arillian magic and sees first-hand the results of those who had been under Aciel’s compulsion. Their recovery seems unlikely, and she is terrified by what she sees.

  In Taban Yul, so close to the crystal pillar which sealed Aciel and Moroda, other citizens are also acting strangely. Many are harming themselves and others, and several even commit suicide. Some consider it a sickness brought on by the ill-suited Varkain leader. But Sapora and Isa know better—it’s Aciel’s will seeping through the streets like poison. They keep quiet to prevent a panic.

  Sapora requests information from the Imperial Guard and the Cerastes on an ancient Varkain treasure. He is vague about the details and refuses to confer even with Isa, whom he had promised a share of power on his ascension to the throne.

  Palom returns to his hometown, a small village on the border with Sereth called Feoras Sol, and reunites with his father—whom he has not seen for twenty years. Palom left in shame, blaming himself for the death of his brother, and is welcomed home with open arms. He begins to reforge a relationship with his family, including his niece, Solvi.

  In Oren, Kohl and his estranged daughter, Jato, argue over Arillian succession, what happened with Aciel, and their future. Tired of waiting, Amarah threatens Jato and the two come to blows. Although Amarah has an advantage with her Valta Forinja, she is no match for the Arillian General, who leaves her blinded in one eye and destroys her airship, Khanna. Jato then departs Oren with a handful of followers, leaving her father and Amarah behind.

  Mateli tracks down Palom to the inn he is staying at, and the two battle fiercely. Palom is able to hold off his aggressor, but Solvi comes to his rescue and the two drive Mateli off. Grievously wounded, Palom begs Solvi to seek out Lathri in Taban Yul, for she is a healer educated at the University of Berel, and he believes only she can help him.

  Solvi locates Lathri and begs her to save Palom. Though disheartened, Lathri obliges, and returns to Palom’s side. She blames the Valta Forinja for his darkness, and refuses to help him any further. Enraged, Palom leaves the inn to wander the Val Sharis wilds. But as he leaves, a dragon egg he found in the forest begins to hatch. He dubs the tiny creature, Leillu, who immediately follows him.

  The rebel movement in Taban Yul increases when it is discovered that the secret treasure Sapora is seeking is actually the Arks—ancient Varkain weapons used to slaughter Ittallan some five thousand years ago, but disappeared with little explanation. In desperation and fear, Isa calls on Morgen to help, for he is a Captain of the Imperial Guard and has some power. Despite going against a king, Morgen orders a fleet of warships to attack the palace in Taban Yul.

  Sapora responds by unleashing a Sevastos and burning the fleet and half the city down. He and Tacio capture most of the rebels they don’t kill—including Lathri. Isa hadn’t realised he had a Sevastos under his control, for they are considered gods, and her distrust of her brother intensifies as he is going too far. She joins the remaining rebels and leads a rescue attempt to save Lathri and the others.

  Having awoken missing an eye and her ship, Amarah is distraught and blames Kohl for her losses. He promises to make it up to her, and flies the two of them back to the mainland. Amarah demands a new ship from him and wishes to hunt down Jato to get her revenge. The nearest town is Tum Metsa, one of the most northerly in all Val Sharis, where she says she will await an ally’s help.

  Stranded by a blizzard somewhere in the north of Val Sharis, Palom and Amarah’s Valta Forinja connect with each other and they are able to communicate. Amarah tells him to come to Tum Metsa to aid her, and Palom agrees. On the way, he discovers a small band of Arillians led by Jato are swarming through Val Sharis, slaying dragons where they see them. He knows this cannot bode well for Linaria, given Topeko’s words; ‘From dragon-flame begun, from dragon-flame undone.’

  Realising Lathri was right and his sword is affecting him, Palom abandons his Valta Forinja in a snowdrift and makes his way to Tum Metsa with Leillu, his heart considerably lighter. The dragons will rampage now that more of their kin are being killed, and he is desperate to help after spending so much time running from responsibilities because of his cursed weapon’s influence.

  However, unbeknownst to Palom, by the time he reaches Tum Metsa, Amarah has already left with Kohl and the ally from her past; Traego. Amarah’s help has been enlisted on a new treasure hunt—for an Ark.

  1

  Somewhere in the distant Karoun mountain range lay a hidden treasure worth enough gold to buy Amarah a fleet of airships. Whatever this “Ark” was, it had to be one of the most valuable bounties she had ever come across.

  When her old ally, Traego, had told her the amount of money she stood to earn on his treasure hunt, she’d struggled to maintain a straight face. Traego had a buyer lined up, a reliable one, who had offered a vast sum to any who could bring him reliable information about the Ark—five hundred crowns.

  Even for Amarah, a sky pirate who’d flown across Linaria more times than she could count, such an opportunity
only arose once in a lifetime. Typically, it was halfway around the world in Corhaven—a country she’d fled and sworn never to return to.

  A bigger shame she’d have to split the reward with her ally’s lacklustre crew.

  Traego’s airship, Otella, creaked in all the places Amarah remembered it to, its sails billowing in the cool, spring breeze. Sure, the ship had a few more scuffs on the deck, and the sails had been replaced since she’d last seen them—they were now an off-red rather than the amber sails of her youth—but it was still mostly as she remembered.

  Otella had lived a previous life as a warship. Despite its size, it was relatively fast, and in barely a week, they’d crossed the Sea of Nami and floated among the Karoun Mountains as they travelled towards the most north-westerly point of Corhaven.

  She knew of a settlement just beyond the edge of the mountains, a tiny, backwater town called Povmar, but hadn’t ever visited it. She didn’t really know what the town itself had to offer because the griffins that lived in these high altitudes warded off all but the most dogged travellers. Their screeches carried widely across the mountaintops, the sound somehow more piercing in the cold air.

  Amarah shivered.

  Griffins were vicious hunters—formidable, in fact—and they hunted in packs. This far north in Corhaven, where dragons rarely came, they were the top predators.

  Traego strode along the length of the deck, his booted feet heavy. His long, curved sword hung low on his hip, and though he didn’t carry his warhammer, he rarely removed its thick leather cross strap, so his belts and buckles clinked lightly with every step. He leant against the prow, where a boar’s head had been fashioned out of the yellowing wood, its tusks twisted and sharp, and absent-mindedly adjusted his cuffs while staring ahead. Ever the epitome of calm, Amarah wondered if there was anything that could frighten him.

  Snow-capped mountains rose around them—a far cry from the rolling plains Corhaven was famous for. The mountains had been here since time immemorial, and would no doubt remain here for another hundred thousand years, unmoved and unchanged by Linaria’s strife.

  Strange, how half of Corhaven had bowed to Aciel and his compulsion, yet this remote corner of the country seemed untouched by the Arillian conqueror.

  Even the few dragons they’d seen here had drifted away on the winds—the complete opposite of those in Val Sharis that had harassed Otella every time they flew within sight of one. At least she still had Kohl with her. The Arillian, for all his flaws, knew dragons well and was powerful enough to see them off.

  Amarah had spent her whole adult life on the run. She was used to watching her back for Imperial ships. But dragons were another matter entirely.

  Since that damned Aciel and his Arillians had brought war to Linaria, the world had changed. Because of him, Jato, Aciel’s fiancée, had tried to kill her.

  Because of Jato, she’d lost her right eye.

  Because of Jato, she’d lost her ship. Lost Khanna.

  Jato had signed her own death warrant, as far as Amarah was concerned.

  Travelling through the freezing mountaintops as part of Traego’s troupe was just part of the plan to buy a new airship and get her freedom back.

  Her missing eye itched in the cold, and she drew a nail underneath the patch she’d worn since leaving Val Sharis. Even if this treasure hunt of Traego’s resulted in the largest amount of gold she’d ever seen, would she still be able to competently fly a new airship with one eye? She’d not flown since losing Khanna. It was one thing to move around day-to-day; it was another to make an airship dance with your fingertips with the same level of skill she’d always enjoyed.

  ‘Checkpoint up ahead,’ Traego called. He clasped his hands behind his back as he kept his gaze on the horizon.

  Carav and Oris—the newest members of Traego’s crew—shuffled forward at his voice. They left a lot to be desired. Young and feeble-minded, Amarah didn’t like them one bit.

  Oris had to be fifteen or sixteen. Still a child, really. He was petulant, shadowed anyone nearby like a lost puppy, and frequently picked his nose. Patchy stubble lined his chin in his attempt to grow a beard to look older.

  Carav was a few years older than Oris, and they had similarly dark blonde hair, so Amarah assumed they were siblings. On discovering she’d grown up in Ranski, Carav had taken to telling Amarah all about her time spent with the Samolen as a child in the hopes of bonding with the older sky thief. She wore necklaces of differing lengths—the result of her successful small-scale thievery—which Amarah had promptly told her to take off. It all made far too much noise when she moved.

  Traego always had a habit of selecting the unlikeliest of people for his crews, and Amarah hoped they’d end up proving to be more useful than she suspected they were.

  There was little more than wilderness out here, but considering their proximity to Povmar, the Imperial Guard had set up checkpoints along the route where the mountains were lowest, a natural valley leading to the snowy town. It reinforced Amarah’s idea that Povmar had something worth taking—if you made it past the griffins.

  Unfortunately, it meant dealing with the Imperial Guard and pandering to their need for paperwork.

  Amarah smacked the bottom of her scythe on the deck. ‘This better be the last checkpoint, Traeg. I’m sick of smiling at those damned guards.’

  ‘Should be the last one we need ta clear,’ Traego replied. He turned and walked back towards Amarah and the two younger crew members. ‘According ta Antar, we’ll see the shroud in another half-league or so. Then we’re done.’

  ‘I’m used to avoiding them. Don’t have the patience for their questions. I know you like winding them up.’

  ‘There’s no other way through the mountains. Otella ain’t stealthy, and their questions would be worse if we avoided their checks,’ Traego said. ‘Oris, got the next batch o’ paperwork ready?’

  The young man nodded, fishing a leaf of loose sheets from his pocket, all stamped in gold and red Imperial colours from the previous three checkpoints.

  ‘Cap’n! They’re flagging us down.’ Antar called from the ship’s wheel near the rear of the deck. ‘I’ll bring her in slowly.’

  Traego nodded and clapped his hands. ‘Ya know the drill. Smiles everyone. We’re merchant traders, not cut-throat pirates.’

  Amarah raised an eyebrow but said nothing as Antar twisted the wheel and pulled a lever to adjust the ship’s sails.

  Traego’s pilot, a man in his late twenties, had the bold, reckless streak befitting an Estorian upbringing, yet, with his dark hair and skin, and occasionally serious attitude, Antar seemed to be Traego’s polar opposite.

  He reminded Amarah of herself, when she’d first joined a sky pirate’s crew at fifteen years old.

  Otella slowed and dropped in altitude, heading towards the large cabin built on the mountainside. Smoke rose slowly from the chimney, and a pair of small, sturdy mountain horses pawed at the ground in search of grazing. Covered in snow and made of weathered stone, the building looked as though it were as old as the mountains.

  The two members of the Imperial Guard stood outside seemed half-frozen despite the thick furs lining their heads and chests, and from the scowls on their faces, were none-too-pleased to see a reconditioned warship float up.