Concordance Read online

  THE

  CORELIGHT

  EXPEDITION

  BOOK 1: CONCORDANCE

  CAMERON HAYDEN

  ARCLIGHT MEDIA Ltd.

  PUBLISHER

  http://www.arkos.us

  Copyright © 2019 by C.M. Hayden.

  All rights reserved.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious.

  Any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental.

  The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without the permission of the author is illegal, and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  ARCLIGHT MEDIA Ltd.

  First Printing, January 201 9

  THE ARKOS CYCLE

  All works below share the same story universe.

  The Arclight Saga

  Why Dragons Hide (The Arclight Saga, Book 0)

  The Reach Between Worlds (The Arclight Saga, Book 1)

  The Stars That Form Us (The Arclight Saga, Book 2)

  All the Gods Below (The Arclight Saga, Book 3)

  Kingdom of Light (The Arclight Saga, Book 4)

  Also from the Arclight Saga

  The Town With No Name

  Secrets of the Magisterium (short story)

  The Corelight Expedition

  Concordance (The Corelight Expedition, Book 1)

  Fathoms (The Corelight Expedition, Book 2)

  Dragonlight Comics

  Dragonlight, Volume 1 (An Arkos Comic)

  Contents

  Aknowlegements

  Author’s Foreword

  Prologue

  Certain Death

  Chapter One

  Two Bounties

  Chapter Two

  Magister Amelia Ross

  Chapter Three

  Ancient Ruins

  Chapter Four

  Mount Glavos

  Chapter Five

  Shao Zhu, The Ghost Ship

  Chapter Six

  The Hidden Map

  Chapter Seven

  State Secrets

  Chapter Eight

  Friends in High Places

  Chapter Nine

  Blood & Silver

  Chapter Ten

  High Treason

  Chapter Eleven

  Outlaws

  Chapter Twelve

  The Concordance

  Chapter Thirteen

  Making Port

  Chapter Fourteen

  Queen Lyra Termane

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Dragon’s Warning

  Chapter Sixteen

  Interlude: Bitter Logic

  Chapter Seventeen

  The Librarium

  Chapter Eighteen

  The Binding Light

  Chapter Nineteen

  The Expedition Begins

  Chapter Twenty

  Tales of the Mad God

  Chapter Twenty-one

  The Trinitus

  Chapter Twenty-two

  The Quick and the Dead

  Chapter Twenty-three

  The Mists of Cthos

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Azror’jir, The Temple of the Mad God

  Chapter Twenty-five

  The Throne of Nuruthil

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Creatures of the Void

  Epilogue

  Assets

  Appendices

  I. The Magisterium

  II. The Arkos

  III. The Old Gods

  IV. The Servants of Nuruthil

  V. Dating

  VI. Pronunciations

  DRAGONLIGHT

  An Arkos Comic

  Aknowlegements

  I’d like to give a special thanks to my Patreon supporters, especially Sean Michael Alcock, Crystal Fletcher, Erin England, Austin Hornbeck, and Derek Morgan. To Christopher Piszár, who was my first reader during our days at the University of Detroit Mercy. To Rai Enril, Jojo Trinidad, Ochie Caraan, and the entire team at ClickArt Studios for the fantastic artwork they do. To my comic artist, Os Pietro, for his incredible talent. To my beta readers, Matthew Thibault, Samantha Secord, and Cody Bohanan for their help polishing the story. To my proofreader, Claudette Cruz, for her hard work and sharp eyes.

  To Brandon Sanderson, who probably doesn’t remember me, but encouraged me to “keep writing.” I think that’s the best advice any author can give to another.

  To Patrick Rothfuss, whose style and structure continue to be a huge influence on my work.

  And a very special thanks to the many thousands of readers who've been following the series. This book, and the many books to come, are for you.

  Click here to follow The Arkos Cycle on Facebook. You’ll get regular updates on future projects like artwork, books, and games.

  Click here to join the official Arkos Discord chat, and get a free short story from The Arclight Saga.

  Click here to support The Arkos Cycle on Patreon for as little as $1 a month. You’ll get access to behind-the-scenes art and early access to some Arkos material.

  Author’s Foreword

  The world of Arkos has grown faster than I could ever have hoped for, and I have fantastic readers like yourself to thank for it. The thousands of people following me on social media, and the hundreds of e-mails and messages I’ve received, are a constant reminder of how fortunate I am.

  Now, I have a new series to share with you in The Arkos Cycle. While it does share continuity with my other works, this is a standalone series. Reading my other books will give you a more complete picture of the world, but it is not required. You can start here.

  These are intended to be shorter than the Arclight novels, almost like adventure serials. In many ways, The Corelight Expedition is a homage to old expedition-type stories like Journey to the Center of the Earth and various Atlantis-based stories. They’re some of my favorite things to read, and I hope you enjoy my version.

  At the end of this book, I’ve included some pages from the ongoing Arkos comic called Dragonlight. It’s done in a manga style, and follows Kurian during his younger years. I hope you’ll take a look.

  Finally, if you enjoy my work and would like to see more, please remember to leave a review of this book on Amazon. As an indie author, I can’t tell you how important reviews are to me. Thank you, and enjoy this new journey through Arkos.

  “What was found in the depths of Vor’aj, you ask? The mystics claim that it was a beast of water and shadow—sleepless, deathless, orderless. Peering out from the reach between worlds, it whispered poison into the minds of mortal men.

  To prevent its ascension, Craetos the All-Seer, King of Dragons, brought his might down onto the great city, and in a single night, Vor’aj disappeared beneath the tides…”

  -Ishal Valharis

  The Lost Kingdoms of Arkos, Volume IV

  Prologue

  Certain Death

  There was a tension amongst the prisoners aboard the S.S. Ramsden. Each of the shackled men felt it, but none dared give voice to their fear.

  It wasn’t that the ship had begun to tilt and take on seawater as rain battered the sides. Nor was it the rain that seeped into their cells from the decks above, forcing the men to sit in an inch of freezing, murky bilge water, unable to stand or move due to the chains that bound their hands and feet. It wasn’t even the fact that the Sea of Bones was infamous for swallowing whole ships beneath its waves.

  No, the tension didn’t come from the elements bearing down on the ship, it came from one of their fellow prisoners. The only prisoner amongst them who their jailors felt warranted a cell to himself. In the perfect dark of the lower
decks, they could only see the vague outline of the dangerous man in the scattered beams of moonlight that made it through cracks in the hull.

  In the hours since they’d left Alamandos, the man—Caiden Rycroft, as he was called—hadn’t moved. He sat cross-legged in the exact center of his cell, his eyes shining out of the blackness like two red embers. He didn’t speak, hardly blinked, and if it weren’t for the heaving in his chest, he might’ve been mistaken for dead. It was only during flashes of lightning that anyone got a good look at him.

  His eyes were hard and cold, with a deep red tint that shimmered even when light was scarce. He had three even scars running from his forehead and across his scalp, leaving marks where hair would not grow. His clothes, once fine cloth that marked him as an academic, were now in ragged shreds, hanging off his bare chest.

  The Ramsden was called the Barge of the Damned for a reason. It ferried criminals across the Sea of Bones, either for trials or imprisonment.

  Murderers. Deserters. But the man they were now trapped with was the exception. He hadn’t deserted any army, nor had he murdered any innocents. His crimes were far worse. There was no prison cell awaiting him on the other side of the sea. No trial. No respite.

  For Caiden Rycroft, reaching land meant certain death.

  Chapter One

  Two Bounties

  The first night of Caiden’s captivity was the worst.

  In the darkness of the lower decks, he couldn’t make out any faces, but knew he was being watched. He looked around the dank, smelly underbelly of the prison barge. Whether it was the saltwater in his eyes, or due to the fact that the guards had struck his head a few too many times, the area outside his cell was a hazy blur.

  Through a hand-sized hole in the barge’s hull, moonlight poured into Caiden’s tiny cell. He wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse: being able to smell a hint of the fresh sea air outside, but be choked by the mold and vomit. Being able to see the stars in the night sky, but being shackled, hand and foot, in half an inch of shit-smelling water.

  The rusted iron bracers around his wrists were tightened with bolts, and welded directly into a metal beam running along the floor. His legs were weighted down at the ankles, too, forcing him to sit or lie down. When the ship listed, the vile bilge water sloshed and struck him in the eyes and nose.

  Through all of it, the hushed voices of the other prisoners caught his ear.

  “That’s him?” a young man whispered.

  “Aye, that’s the guy,” an old man answered quietly. “Tied him up good, by the looks of it.”

  “Not good enough,” the young man said. “You heard what he did in Vor’aj, didn’t you?”

  The conversation was broken by the sound of the enormous wooden door leading to the cells rattling, and a key turning. When the door opened, moonlight flooded into the darkness, and Caiden got his first good look at the others.

  There were twelve in all, most of them young men in their twenties, but three of them were well into their fifties and sixties. They didn’t look like criminals.

  Footsteps creaked down the thin wooden stairs, and two guards in heavy leather stomped through the water, toward Caiden’s cell. The taller, hook-nosed man muttered something to the other, who began fishing around his keyring. Moments later, the cell door opened, and the guards unlatched Caiden from the floor. Arms and legs still shackled, they dragged him out of the cell.

  “What’s going on?” Caiden asked.

  “Keep yer mouth shut,” one of the guards said, striking him across the back of the head.

  They pulled him above deck and into the cool night air. It was a welcome respite from the oppressive air of the lower decks. Caiden took a quick, appraising look at his surroundings.

  The ship was not particularly large for a prison barge, which was not surprising, as it wasn’t meant to service large numbers. At a glance, there were fourteen crew members above deck: four on the quarterdeck, three on the rigging and bow, and the rest working on securing the three masts against worsening storm winds.

  The guards pushed Caiden forward, toward the captain’s cabin.

  “Captain Hastings wants to see ye,” the guard said, pushing him toward the cabin door.

  The captain’s cabin was unlike the rest of the ship. Where the Ramsden was dreary and gray, the cabin was bright and vibrant with color—hues of rich purples, red, and royal blues. In the very center of the room was a wide table covered in fine food: smoked salmon, seared turkey, salted pork, all set around bowls of fruit and tall candles.

  The walls of the cabin were packed full of sundries from across Arkos: rare oil paintings from Shin, longswords from Kadrek, the skeleton of a sea serpent (probably fake), and detailed maps of the many sea currents. In the back was an open doorway leading into the captain’s private study, and two more that must’ve gone to his quarters.

  Captain Marshal Hastings himself sat on the far end of the table, cutting a bit of undercooked fish with a silver knife. He didn’t look up when the guards entered with Caiden in tow. He took his time eating, savoring a bite of salmon and washing it down with a gulp of white wine before looking up.

  “Thirty Twenty-One, Mesere white,” Hastings said, sloshing the wine around in his cup. “Hints of cherry and cinnamon. And such an excellent year.”

  Hastings reminded Caiden of a black bear. He was a beast of a man, with beefy, tanned arms covered in hair, and a curly beard that hung down to his barrel chest. His face was scarred with red lines, one coming dangerously close to his eye, and he had two missing teeth that’d been replaced with gold replicas.

  “Leave us,” Hastings said, gesturing dismissively at the guards. His voice was gruff, as if it had been filtered through sandpaper.

  “But sir—” one of the guards began.

  Hastings leaned forward, eying Caiden. “Go,” he repeated to the guards. “I’ll be alright.”

  Reluctantly, the guards left, leaving Caiden standing alone, not quite sure what to do. Hastings took another gulp of wine and wiped his beard clean with his sleeve.

  “How are you finding your accommodations?” Hastings asked.

  Caiden chose not to respond. If this was some sort of cruel game, he didn’t want to give Hastings the satisfaction of a response. Instead, he took stock of his surroundings. He noted the ornamental swords hanging on the left wall, the single-load crossbow on the captain’s desk in the next room, the heavy letter opener sitting beside a bottle of ink in the corner. Any one of these things could prove useful in escaping.

  But to what end?

  Captain Hastings seemed to follow his gaze. “There are plenty of things one could turn into a weapon aboard a ship like this. Nails from the hull. Heavy bars of iron. A dull letter opener.” He gestured to the corner. “But tell me, after you kill me, what would your plan be? We’re a hundred miles from the nearest shoreline, and you’re severely outnumbered.”

  Again, Caiden chose not to speak.

  Hastings stood, brushing the crumbs off his blue waistcoat. “Truly, I’d be somewhat disappointed if you attacked me. I’ve heard you’re a man of sophistication, an academic even. I’ve done you no wrongs, paid you no ills, nor did I capture you.” He pointed to himself and made a moving gesture with his hands. “I simply ferry criminals from one place to another. I’m a man of business, that’s all.”

  Finally, Caiden spoke. His words sounded strange to his own ears; it felt like a lifetime since he’d heard them. “What do you want with me?”

  “Me? No, you’ve got it all wrong. As I said, I’m not responsible for your confinement. However, I’ll admit I find myself at a loss.” He moved to the side table with the letter opener, pulled open the drawer, and retrieved two pieces of parchment from it.

  One was a cream-colored scroll, with broken wax seals on the ends. The other was white, and had creases down the center from being folded. Hastings regarded the papers for a moment, then held them both up. “I’ve been ferrying criminals for thirty years now. In all that
time, I thought I’d seen it all, but this is a first. While we were making berth in Port Isca, these arrived. One from Magister Amelia Ross of the Magisterium, another from the Chancellor Meridius of the Celosan Senate. A letter from either one would pique any man’s interest…but from both? Unheard of. Can you guess what they say?”

  Caiden wiped some of the grime from his face. “That I’m to be released with a full pardon?”

  Captain Hastings laughed thunderously. “And here I thought you had no sense of humor. No, it seems both the Chancellor and Amelia Ross have an interest in you, and each says they’re willing to out-pay the other. I fear the hulls of my ship will soon be weighted with so much gold, I won’t be able to haul it all back in one trip. It appears my retirement is within reach.”

  “My heart bleeds for you.”

  “It’s a curse, to be sure. But it may be to your benefit. You see, it seems like either will pay me my due in spades. As I try to be fair in all things, I’ve decided that I’ll leave the choice up to you. Where would you rather go? To the Endrans and Amelia Ross, or to your kin, the Celosans?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Doesn’t matter?” Hastings said, his voice pitching curiously. “If the stories are true, Chancellor Meridius is a vicious man.”

  “Amelia Ross is a vicious woman,” Caiden said. “Don’t let her appearance fool you. She’s the equal of any tyrant out there. Savage, full of ambition and warped moral clarity. A dangerous combination.”

  “Moral clarity? Coming from a criminal wanted in two different nations, that’s quite a statement.”

  “I’m not a criminal,” Caiden said.

  Hastings scoffed, and unfurled one of the letters. He read directly from it. “‘Wanted for grand theft, treason, murder, sedition, conspiracy, destruction of Magisterium property.’”