A rangers journey book f.., p.1
A Ranger's Journey: Book Four of the Last Eternal, page 1
Contents
Copyright
Dedication
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CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
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About the Author
Note from the Author
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.
A Ranger’s Journey: The Last Eternal Book 4
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Copyright © 2023 Jacob Nathaniel Peppers. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical without the express written permission of the author. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.
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This one is for you, Gabriel
You’re five now and growing up so fast—sometimes I think too fast
And while I am excited and privileged to watch you grow,
I cannot help but be a little sad at what is left behind
Let this then, stand in memory…
In memory of choo-choo-training around the house,
Of horsey rides and chicken nuggets,
Of monster faces and “I do’s” that mean yes,
I love you, son.
To the moon and back.
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CHAPTER ONE
Death was coming.
Standing as he was in the pleasant warmth of the wizard’s cabin, with the appetizing smell of cooking rabbit filling his nostrils, it seemed hard for the wanderer to believe.
But death was coming just the same.
Staring through the small window and onto a world of rolling hills and snow-covered ground that seemed to sparkle in the sunlight like thousands of diamonds, it seemed impossible.
And yet…death was coming. It would be here soon.
That death came for him, he knew, for it had been coming for a long time. But he knew also that death was a hungry beast, one that would devour anyone or anything in its path. That included the sheriff of Alhs beside him, included the wizard as well as Dekker, his family, and all the villagers waiting at the boundary where the woods of the Untamed Lands gave way to the unnatural snowy dunes in which the wizard lived. The villagers who counted on him to save them.
“This should be impossible,” the wizard said, frowning at him. “You should not be here. You should not have been able to find me.”
“What do you mean?” the wanderer asked.
“The Eternals,” the wizard hissed angrily. “A worthy name, though no doubt not for the reason your progenitors thought. When you are the last beings left alive, it will not be because of your long lives but instead because you have a way of getting everyone around you killed.”
The wanderer frowned. “You know of us? The Eternals?”
The wizard snorted. “Of course I know of you—you and your kind are the reason I’ve spent the last few centuries hiding out in the middle of nowhere!”
The wanderer’s frown deepened. “I…don’t understand.”
The other man watched him for several seconds, glancing at the sheriff who only shrugged, clearly confused, before turning back to the wanderer. “No,” he said slowly, “no, it seems that you do not.” He sighed. “No great surprise, I suppose. Your brothers and sisters always did love their secrets. They hoarded them the same way the ancient dragons were said to hoard gold. No doubt you do not even know why they sent you here to kill me.”
“As I said,” the wanderer said slowly, “I did not come to kill you.”
The wizard watched him carefully, sniffing at the air as he did. “Truth,” he said slowly, grudgingly. “Or, at least, it would seem so. But then, you Eternals always did enjoy your tricks, didn’t you? And while your words might taste of truth, that means little. Some poisons, it is said, are sweet upon the tongue, but that does not stop them from claiming the life of any foolish or unlucky enough to swallow them.”
The wanderer did not think that any speech was expected of him, and so he said nothing, only waited as the wizard continued to stare at him. “Well?” the wizard asked.
“Well what?”
“Aren’t you going to answer?”
“You did not ask a question,” the wanderer said.
The wizard frowned. “What assurances do I have that the Eternals did not send you here to kill me?”
“Well,” the wanderer said slowly, “the first, I suppose, is that I have not yet tried to kill you.”
“A state of affairs that you might choose to change at any moment,” the wizard said, “though I warn you, Youngest of the Eternals, that a man does not live as long as I have because he is careless. I have expected this visit, and I have planned for it. Should you choose to attempt me harm, you will find me no easy prey.”
There was a pregnant, tense silence then, as the three men stood regarding one another. Finally, the wanderer spoke. “The other assurance that the Eternals did not send me,” he said, meeting the wizard’s gaze, “is that they are dead. I am Youngest, yes, you are correct in that, but I am also the last. The Eternals are no more.”
The wizard snorted. “Your first lie was better. But then that’s the thing about lies, Youngest of the Eternals, the more you tell, the easier they are to spot.”
“It is no lie,” the wanderer said. “They are dead and have been for the last hundred years and more.”
“I see,” the wizard said. “You might be forgiven for assuming that here, so far from what you might consider the civilized world, I am clueless as to the goings-on of society, that I might be easily fooled. But I am no dull-witted farm boy to be tricked, and I make it a point to stay apprised of news from your world, particularly of the Eternals. After all, what better way for the hare to remain free of the lion’s maw than to know, at all times, the disposition of the one who would make a meal of him? And so it is that I know you are lying, for while I admit that I may not be as knowledgeable as once I was, I would have no doubt heard through my sources had the Eternals—beings who nearly all the living saw as gods—been slain.”
“Not if those who slew them took their place,” the wanderer said.
The wizard frowned deeper at that. “Took their place.”
“Yes.”
“Then why have you come?”
“To help,” the wanderer said. “To fix what I’ve broken.”
“Don’t you mean to get me to fix it?”
The wanderer winced but nodded. “Yes.”
The other man snorted. “Well, you’ve traveled a long way to be disappointed, then.”
The wanderer and the sheriff shared a look. “Please,” the wanderer said, turning back to the wizard, “do not punish them for my sin, it is not their—”
“You Eternals,” the wizard said with a sneer. “You think that the world revolves around you, as if my feelings for you are enough for me to condemn an entire village.” He shook his head. “That has nothing to do with it. The barrier that you destroyed so carelessly was long in the making. Unless those chasing you would be willing to grant you a few weeks’ reprieve while I construct another we will all be dead long before it is finished.”
“But there must be something you can do,” the wanderer said, hearing the desperation in his own voice and unable to hide it, for he was thinking of Dekker and Ella, and Sarah, her most of all.
“Fool,” the wizard hissed. “There are consequences to our actions, Eternal, and the consequence for your selfish act is that an entire village of—”
“Excuse me,” another voice said, and they turned to regard the sheriff. “Yeah,” he went on, “I’m still here, in case you both forgot. Anyhow, while I appreciate this little history lesson or…argument or,
The wizard turned back to the wanderer who shrugged. Then the other man frowned, giving his head a shake before turning and moving to a small bureau against the wall. He bent, grunting in pain as he did and bringing a hand to the small of his back. He frowned over his shoulder at the wanderer. “The hazards of old age,” he grumbled, “but as bad as they are, I’d take them any day to the hazards of you Eternals. Better an aching back and knees that hurt when it rains than a viper in my bed.”
“If it helps,” the wanderer said, “I have no intention of getting in your bed.”
The man grunted, shooting him a sour look. “No, it’s not my bed you care about but my coffin.”
The wanderer had nothing to say to that, and so he said nothing, only watching as the wizard withdrew a linen sack from inside the bureau and began to stuff clothes into it.
“Sorry,” the sheriff said, “but…what’s happening?”
“I’m leaving, that’s what’s happening, Sheriff,” the wizard said.
“Leaving?” the other man asked, as if the wizard had spoken in a different language.
“Yes, leaving,” the wizard repeated, “fleeing if you prefer—if you haven’t done it before, I’d suggest giving it a try and no time like the present.”
The sheriff turned and regarded the wanderer with a mixture of disbelief and an almost child-like confusion. It was as if he was a young boy meeting his favorite childhood hero only to discover that the knight’s faithful steed was not a horse but a bloodthirsty dragon and beneath the golden, shining armor lurked a visage more terrible even than those monsters he had thought the man would save him from.
The sheriff’s mouth worked but no words came out. He could not find his voice for his disbelief, and so it was left to the wanderer to find it in his stead. “You mean to leave them,” he said to the wizard’s hunched back.
It was not a question, but the man chose to answer it anyway, spinning on him, his two bushy dark gray eyebrows drawn down in a frown to match the one on his mouth. “Don’t you try to blame this on me—you are the one that brought the sheriff here, not me, just as it is you who are responsible for that which comes.” The wizard’s scowl gave way to a thoughtful frown, and he turned to regard the sheriff. “How are you here, anyway? The barrier I erected, it was meant to keep those dangers of the Untamed Lands away from your village, but it should have served just as well to keep those of your village from leaving.” He sighed. “But then, I suppose nothing lasts forever. Tell me, how big is the gap?”
“The gap?” the sheriff asked.
“Yes, yes,” the wizard said impatiently, “the one that has appeared in the barrier. How large? The size of a fist? Bigger?”
“Ah. Right. Well, the thing is,” the sheriff said, wincing, “that is…” he cleared his throat, glancing at the wanderer with an almost guilty expression on his face.
“There is no barrier,” the wanderer said, meeting the wizard’s gaze, “and what the sheriff here is too kind to say is that it is my fault that it is gone.”
“Why am I not surprised?” the wizard said. “What was it then, Youngest? Did you tire of torturing those in what you and your sisters and brothers like to consider the civilized lands and came here to do the same?”
“I did not mean to break it,” the wanderer said. “I sought only to save a family, one I have come to care for and—”
“Save them,” the wizard repeated. “From what?”
“The Accursed,” the wanderer said. “They were coming for them and—”
“And for you too?” the man said, watching him carefully with a clever sparkle in his eye.
Perhaps the wizard expected him to lie. Likely he did, for while the wanderer did not know the reasons for the man’s dislike for the Eternals, it was clear that they were strong ones. “Yes,” he said. “For me as well.”
“So you chose, in your benevolent wisdom, to risk an entire village in order to save yourself?”
“I did not know of the village, only that there was a barrier—it was not until after I found my way through it that I became aware of Alhs’ existence.”
“I see,” the wizard said. “And if you had known about it before hand?”
The wanderer winced. “I would have done the same.”
The gray-haired man snorted. “I thought as much.” He shook his head. “You Eternals, so righteous, so perfect. Yet beneath all your gilding, beneath all your noble sculptures and pompous vainglory, you are selfish and cruel.”
“And what of you?” the wanderer said, not in an accusatory tone but simply a question.
That caused the wizard to freeze, frowning. “What of me?”
The wanderer shrugged. “It seems to me that, by fleeing and leaving the sheriff—and the other villagers of Alhs—to fend for themselves, you are no better than we Eternals who you seem to so despise. After all, will you not be damning a village to save yourself, the same thing for which you hold me to blame?”
The wizard watched him for a moment then rolled his eyes. “Word games. You Eternals always have been good at those, but it is not the same thing, not even close. Your actions directly led to the villagers being in danger, and—”
“And your actions might save them.”
“There is no saving them, you fool,” the wizard snapped. “They are dead! We are dead! You speak falsely, as you have since you first entered my home, for the man who leads this army of soulless creatures is known to me. It is Ranger, one of the Eternals, one of you.”
“Ranger is dead,” the wanderer said, though in truth he was not exactly sure how much of that was true, how much of the Eternals had been preserved by whatever spell Oracle had cast on the amulet about his neck. Either way, though, he decided that there was no need to mention that now.
“So you say,” the wizard said, “yet I have seen him clearly. Tell me then, Youngest of the Eternals, how it is that a dead man is coming to kill us?”
“It is something else, something that took his place. His and the others. If you are as well-informed as you claim then you have no doubt heard the story—the story that I betrayed the others, the story that the enemy created to discredit me. It is a tale they fabricated once they took the others’ place.”
The wizard watched him, not angrily now but consideringly. Finally, he shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Even if what you’re saying is true—and I’m not saying it is—it makes little difference. Whether he is Ranger or only an impostor, whoever comes is leading an army, that much is clear. An army that will find no difficulty in dealing with us. So, as I said, I am leaving.”
“And the villagers of Alhs?”
“Will just have to make do for themselves, won’t they?” the wizard snapped. He turned to the sheriff. “I am sorry, Sheriff, indeed I am, but there is a reason I have spent my life here, in the wilds. Now then, I wish you all luck.”
The wanderer shrugged, turning to the sheriff. “Come, Sheriff Fred. It is time we left.”
“Left?” the sheriff asked, blinking. “But…where will we go?”
“You will go back to the others,” the wanderer said. “And tell them what has transpired—get them out of here. Save them, if you can.”
“And…and you?” the sheriff asked.
The wanderer glanced at the wizard who had stopped packing and was now watching him, then he turned back to the sheriff. “It is I who has brought this doom upon us, and so it is I who must go out and face it. The wizard…” He glanced and the old man. “Do you not have another name?”
“None that I intend to give to you,” the man snapped.
“Very well,” the wanderer said, turning back to the sheriff. “The wizard was right about that much at least. Now go, while there is yet time—I will hold them for as long as I can.”
The wizard snorted. “You can’t be serious.”
The wanderer glanced at the man, raising an eyebrow.
“You’ll die,” the wizard said.
“Then I’ll die.”
