Land of the Giants Read online

  Books by

  D. M. ALMOND

  Chronicles of Acadia

  Book One: Secrets of the Elders

  Book Two: Land of the Giants

  Book Three: Necromancer’s Curse - coming Summer 2015

  ADark Rising – coming Fall 2015

  To my crazy doppelganger, Don.

  The best brother an Acadian could want.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1: The Citadel

  Chapter 2: Homecoming

  Chapter 3: Welcome to the Jungle

  Chapter 4: On the Run

  Chapter 5: Expedition

  Chapter 6: The White Tree

  Chapter 7: Training Grounds

  Chapter 8: Practice Makes Perfect

  Chapter 9: Manta Bay

  Chapter 10: Land of the Giants

  Chapter 11: The Jotnar Cometh

  Chapter 12: Infiltration

  Chapter 13: A Place to Lay My Head

  Chapter 14: Deliverance

  Chapter 15: The Witch Queen

  Chapter 16: Summoner

  Chapter 17: Parting Ways

  Chapter 18: Resistance

  Chapter 19: Stratagem

  Chapter 20: Malbec

  Chapter 21: Final Countdown

  Chapter 22: Strike

  Chapter 23: The Moxy

  Chapter 24: Unknown Soldier

  Chapter 25: Departure

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Logan Walker hated the infernal surface of Acadia. Thick, rank mud sucked at his boots as he willed his stiff legs to keep trudging through the marshlands. He was in a bad mood, most likely due to the overpowering light of Themis, the daystar, beating down on his brow, the weight of it like ten sacks of silt piled across his back. Logan’s skin was covered with a thick sheen of sweat, and he grunted with each aching step forward through the heat.

  Or perhaps his current disposition was more likely a byproduct of the incessant prodding by the lizardman behind him, who seemed to deem it necessary to periodically jab him in the spine with the butt of a primitive wooden spear, despite the fact that he was willingly complying with their commands and marching through the dense jungle wetlands like a good little prisoner.

  The next time he does that I’m going to stick my fist straight down his scaly throat, Logan thought, gritting his teeth and wincing at the most recent blow.

  Another Agmawor gave Bipp an identical hit, knocking the three-foot gnome onto his hands and knees. The diminutive gnome was barely able to hold himself up in the deep mud with his bound wrists.

  Logan’s small friend was having a rough time trekking through the dense mud, his stubby legs working hard to maneuver through the marshland at the same pace as the lizardmen, who were brutally pushing them to maintain their swift trek. Mud caked Bipp’s leather bracers and stained his silver hair, rivulets of it clinging to his bushy mutton chops and large, bulbous nose. The normally jovial engineer was looking rough.

  Logan sludged over to help him out of the muck before he fell over completely and drowned in the foul-smelling mud.

  As Logan helped the gnome to his feet, a sharp blow cracked against his neck. An explosion of stars washed across his vision, knocking him a couple steps forward. As he regained his footing, growling like a feral beast, Bipp caught his forearm, throwing Logan a knowing look and stopping him before he could do anything rash. Logan squared his shoulders and glared hatefully at the lizardman who stood gloating before him.

  He knew there was not much special about his appearance, as he looked just like most other twenty-two-year-olds hailing from his village, Riverbell, in the underground kingdom of New Fal. He stood five-foot-eleven, with dark, walnut hair that he kept cropped short and wild, looking as if he had just rolled out of bed. His normally pale skin was a deep shade of raw pink, unused to the scorching heat of Themis, the daystar, which beat down on the surface world. Themis’ light was so bright that his crystal clear emerald-colored eyes stung even under the magical dweomer placed over them.

  All in all he was pretty typical for your everyday, run-of-the-mill villager, with one exception, which was his mechanical fist. It was crafted from adamantine and gifted to him by the Council of Twelve to replace the hand he had lost defending the capitol from an invading horde of skex. That was before he was setup for murder and had to flee his homeland.

  Logan thought for a fleeting moment about ramming that fist straight through the lizardman’s filthy muzzle. But his friend Nero, the only other member of his party to be caught by the lizardmen, shook his head slightly, silently reminding Logan that they were far outnumbered and grossly under-equipped for such a daring move.

  He knew his companion was correct, that even as fast as he was, there was no way he could take out enough of the creatures before they gutted him like a pig, or even worse, harmed his friends. Wading through the mire, with poison-tipped spears aimed their way, his companions were in no position to mount an offense.

  The Agmawor commanded him in its sickly, guttural voice, motioning for the soft-skin to keep moving. Logan looked deep into the stinking lizard’s yellow-slit eyes and curled his lips, but turned to comply anyhow, earning what he assumed was a laugh from their captors, rows of needle sharp teeth clicking together and tongues slithering from between quivering, scaly lips.

  From the corner of his eye, Logan looked for Tiko, his Agma companion, who he assumed was following them from high up in the trees. The Agma was nowhere to be seen, which Logan knew was a good thing. He could only hope that his brother Corbin was having better luck with Kyra and Stur. Picturing them in his mind’s eye, Logan wondered where they were at that moment and whether they were safe.

  Bipp groaned as they resumed their trek through the mud. Logan could not help looking at his companion and wondering how they got themselves into this mess in the first place. Only hours before, everything was working out so well, yet here they were, trudging through the Sunken Marshes of Ithiki on the surface of Acadia, prisoners of the cannibal Agmawor tribe, being led the gods knew where. The deeper he thought on it, the further his mind wandered back, to the beginning of their journey. Back to before they set out for the surface of Acadia.

  Chapter 1: The Citadel

  The young woman groaned for the third time that day.

  “I think she’s coming around,” Bipp said, his voice strained with excitement.

  Logan Walker sat with his back pressed firmly against the wall. His eyes remained transfixed on the adjoining hall, peering through the yawning hole he had blasted through the door when battling the second wave of spiders two days ago. The hall beyond the hole was as wide as two homes put side by side and as long as anything they had ever seen, with row upon row of glass tubes, each larger than a man. Those containers seemed to be filled with some sort of ice and radiated a faint blue glow. Even more unsettling, they seemed to each house a sleeping human.

  Logan and Bipp had wanted to explore the mysterious chamber, but they had yet to step foot inside. Corbin had pointed out that they could not leave this woman, whom they had rescued from a pack of spiders the size of small dogs. In her condition, she would be completely defenseless if left on her own. Splitting up was not a good idea either, as there was no telling how many more spiders existed in this structure, and the three of them had had their hands full dealing with the beasts as it was.

  This turned out to be a wise choice, as that very evening, when everyone fell asleep, another pack of spiders attacked. Logan did not want to think about what might have happened if they had not been all together for that assault. His body gave an involuntary shudder.

  They’d spent two whole days guarding a stranger in a strange room. The walls were made of some sort of metal Bi
pp did not recognize, and for a gnome engineer to be unable to place a metal was saying something. They had used some flint to create a makeshift torch and clear large areas of the floor and walls, burning away the thick strands of spider webbing. And then they had sat. And waited.

  If Logan had to spend another day inside the cramped space, with the constant threat of arachnids attacking, he might lose his mind.

  “I think our friend is right,” Corbin said, bumping Logan’s shoulder and pointing at the unconscious woman. “It appears she is waking up.”

  Logan’s head perked up and he scrambled to his knees on the other side of her. They had propped the woman’s head on his pack and covered her in some extra tunics. Corbin said it was to keep her warm, but Logan thought she must be fine, since she had been sweating like a fevered pig since last night.

  The woman’s eyes fluttered open, shifting this way and that, clearly trying to take in her surroundings. She tried to push herself up to a sitting position but found her muscles weaker than her feverish intent. Bipp caught the back of her head before it hit the floor and gently guided it onto the pack again. Her lips began trembling open and closed. It looked like she had a fish swimming around inside her mouth and was trying to blow out.

  “Is she having a seizure?” Logan asked.

  “I think she’s trying to speak,” Corbin said.

  Bipp brought their flask to her mouth and let the water dribble over her cracked lips.

  “What are you doing?” Logan said. “That’s all the water we have left.”

  They had spent two days, at least, sitting in this cramped room, and before that, they had traveled for days through desolate tunnels before they stumbled upon the shaft that led them here. In that time, they had completely run out of food, and clean water was a scarce commodity they were carefully rationing. There was no way to find provisions without leaving the unconscious woman or splitting up.

  Bipp ignored his protests and helped the woman to another drink of water. She began to cough, turning her head and spraying flecks of spittle on Logan’s knees. Logan gritted his teeth and fought the urge to complain.

  “W-when did we a-arrive?” she asked.

  “Arrive?” Bipp asked. “We only stumbled across you two evenings ago, lass.”

  She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts, and squinted at him. Her eyes went wide then pinched tight again, and she craned her neck away.

  Bipp patted her shoulder. “You’ve been through a lot. Best you rest for a spell and regain your strength.”

  She gaped at him. “What are you?”

  Corbin looked concerned. “Do you think she’s lost her…you know…do you think she’s still normal?”

  Logan rotated his finger near his ear in response.

  The woman scowled at them in a way that immediately cowed his teasing. “I am not crazy. There’s a little…I don’t know…man standing beside me, isn’t there?”

  Bipp proudly put his hands on his hips and puffed out his chest. “Damn straight, I’m a man. Older than both of these pups combined. Well, not really, but I am the oldest of the group.”

  She tried to sit up again. Logan moved to help, but she shook him away. “But you’re so…small.” She thought for a moment, and her eyes widened. “Oh no! Is this a side effect of our trip?”

  The three of them exchanged looks, and Corbin shrugged. “We don’t know what you’re referring to. My guess is you’re still a little off from the spider’s venom.”

  Her lips curled back and nostrils flared as if she smelled spoiled milk. “Yuck, I hate spiders. Wait, what are you wearing?” She looked them up and down as if she had never seen clothing before.

  Logan looked down at his torn tunic and worn pants and could only guess how disheveled they must seem. Bipp whistled and did his own rendition of the waggling-finger–by-the-ear gesture, though it came out funnier than when Logan did it.

  The woman did not miss a beat and threw a dark look at him. “I am not crazy.” She slowly pronounced each word so they knew she meant business. Obviously it did not have the desired effect, because Bipp and Logan began to chuckle.

  “C’mon guys,” Corbin butted in, ever the ambassador, “the lady is obviously disoriented and confused.” He turned his attention to her. “Can you remember your name?”

  Her eyes squinted again. “Do you not know me?”

  Corbin shook his head.

  “I am Kyra Tarvano,” she said. “Kyra. Kyra Tarvano?”

  Logan nodded and turned to his younger brother. “Well, she remembers her name, at least.”

  She tried to rise, but her legs were too weak. Her face was a mask of puzzlement, and she suddenly reminded Logan very much of a scared puppy. “Who are you people? Where am I? Why am I here? I have to go!”

  Logan dropped his mirth and grabbed her, steadying her and helping her sit back down while speaking soothingly. “Whoa there, lady, calm down, everything is alright. We are not here to hurt you. We only want to help, honest.” He seemed to be getting through to her, as she dropped her flailing arms and slowly grew rigid. “Now why don’t you just settle down before you hurt yourself?”

  Her eyes cleared and she shook her head, sitting back on the floor. Without speaking, she began to take in the room, studying the walls, the open door of the shaft, the three strange men kneeling around her. Her dark eyes rested on the shattered portal to the next room and tightened. “What happened there?”

  “Where?” Logan looked over his shoulder. “Oh that? I guess I got a teensie bit overzealous taking out one of those creepy crawlers.”

  “Is the rest of the crew safe? How are the citizens?”

  “You’ll pardon me,” Corbin said in a gentle voice, “but we have no idea what you mean. Perhaps you could explain how you got here so we can understand?”

  She scrunched up her face.

  “Listen, lady, what my brother means is that we don’t have a clue what you’re prattling on about. Why don’t you start with how the spiders got you and your friend there?”

  Corbin shot his brother a look, silently pleading with him to be more tactful.

  Kyra’s eyes followed his pointing finger and locked onto the mummified remains of the man who rested inside the half-opened spider sac on the far side of the room. Her lips recoiled in disgust. She studied the remains and shifted her attention back to them. There was a visible change in her attitude. She seemed to gather her composure, becoming stolid, shoulder firmed and jaw clenched tight. Her face fell grim and her eyes tightened.

  “Tell me who you are.” She said it as a demand, and not one from someone who trusted them.

  “My name is Corbin Walker. This is my brother, Logan, and our friend here is the goodly gnome Brillfilbipp Bobblefuzz.”

  “That’s Bipp to my friends,” Bipp interjected, waggling his bushy silver eyebrows at her.

  “We are on a journey.” Corbin stopped to find the right words. “You see, a swarm of Skex attacked our village—”

  “Skex?”

  “Yes, a whole swarm of them, and we had to get to Fal so we could warn the people—”

  “Fahl? The robotics company?”

  “No, not Fahl. Fal, our capitol. Anyhow, Logan murdered Mr. Beauford and then—”

  She recoiled from Logan and eyed him warily. “You murdered someone?”

  “No. That’s not right, what I meant was…” Corbin fumbled over his words.

  If Logan had not been laughing so hard, he might have been annoyed. But both the sight of his brother squirming and Bipp biting his fist to keep from bursting into tears of laughter stayed his anger. “Wow, you really suck at this, huh?”

  Bipp slapped his knee and chortled at a red-faced Corbin.

  “Let’s start over?” Logan offered to the woman.

  She nodded and he told their story. He told her about the insect attack that brutalized their village, and about their race to warn the capitol. He told her how he was falsely accused of murder and had to go into exile in the w
astelands, and how he met Bipp on his journey. He told her he had followed his dying friend’s cryptic demand that he seek the truth, and how that led to the ruins of Ul’Kor, where they discovered the horrible secret about their kingdom.

  “You mean the entire place was built by gnomes?” she interrupted.

  “That’s right.” Bipp grinned. “Finest builders in all of Vanidriell, after all.”

  She blinked a couple times and sat back against the wall. Logan was happy to see she was regaining her strength. “I’m sorry. This is all a bit much to take in.”

  Logan shrugged and shook his head. “All good adventures are, eh?”

  “I’m not sure I would call that an adventure. Sounds more like a nightmare to me. So what was this secret you uncovered?”

  “Our god is not real,” Corbin said grimly. As much as it used to annoy Logan that his brother was so devout, it pained him to see the look of emptiness in Corbin’s eyes. “The Great Crystal, that which provides life for all of New Fal, Baetylus, is a false god. Our people worship a false idol, and in turn, this insidious creature feeds off of my people, absorbing their souls and sucking away their life force. On top of that, he holds mastery over them and sways their thoughts with his loathsome power.”

  Kyra groaned. “So we really are still on Acadia?”

  Logan cocked his head to one side, trying to make sense of that statement. “The surface? What do you mean?”

  “Only on Acadia could such nightmares be true.”

  “No, not that. What do you mean by Acadia?” he corrected.

  “This is Acadia, isn’t it?” Her eyes narrowed and she fell into a state of self-reflection, shaking her head in sorrow. “We never left, did we?”

  “Acadia is the surface world, lady. Nobody has been up there in centuries.” Logan frowned at her. “Geez, Bipp, I think Corbin was right about that venom addling her brain.”

  “I don’t think so,” Corbin said evenly, tapping a finger on his chin and studying Kyra. “Why don’t you tell us your story?”