To Sunlit Isles (The Never-Ending Circus, Book 1)

PROLOGUE

The night air was dry and hot as the moon illuminated the small village enthralled by chaos. Fires made shadows dance against walls of empty log houses that were once filled with laughter. The last of many cries had fallen silent. A young boy stumbled into the dirt streets, coughing from the smoke that hovered around him. Soot clung to his face and clothes, a single lock of his hair singed from the embers falling to the ground.

Limping through the streets, the boy searched for any signs of help, earnestly hoping to find his loved ones, someone he could trust. Even the crotchety old man who would often yell at him and the other kids for playing too close to his chickens would be a welcome face. Glaring through the smoke, he spotted a familiar face. It was Alleck! He had known him for longer than he could remember. Alleck was like a big brother to him.

The boy's pace picked up slightly, only to slow down again once he could clearly see his friend. He could hardly recognize his almost brother amidst the pyre of bodies, piled to the heavens with the other villagers. Family and friends alike stared at him with glazed eyes from the heap, flames licking up their blood and tears. The stench of burning flesh filled the air as he covered his nose and mouth with his shirt, eager to look away but so completely captivated with fear and shock that he was unable to tear away his gaze. His legs refused to move, and he stood there, grounded in disbelief.

The heavy sound of footsteps moving through the village trembled slightly in his ear. The soldiers that cut down the villagers were searching for survivors. Time slowed to a crawl, his breath catching in his throat, his heart beating in his ears. He forced himself to take a breath. His mind was foggy with smoke and confusion, but he tried to clear it. He balled his fists and took another deep breath, closing his eyes, willing his mind to forget the image that was still in front of him. Slowly, he opened his eyes, and his legs began to move once more. Turning on his good leg, the boy took off as fast as he could, limping down the cobbled street.

He reached a spot where a dirt road intersected with the cobbled one he ran down. He paused for a moment and peered down the path, in his panic forgetting where he needed to go. Down the dirt road was only a few more thatch-roofed shacks and log homes, but past those, the tree line. He had played in that forest growing up. His father would often take him to check the beast traps. There were still traps out there now, they had set them only days ago. The traps and the thick foliage of the ancient trees would serve as the perfect haven, and perhaps his only option.

Stumbling around debris from a collapsed roof, he picked his way closer and closer to his goal, all the while listening to the men marching and voices gaining behind him. He risked a glance back to see how near his assailants were. Sure enough, a group of them had just reached the intersection and were looking down the dirt path, firelight flashing off their blades and breastplates.

It didn't take long for one to spot him limping down the dirt lane. "There! Ones getting away!"

"Don't let a single one of these witches escape!" Ordered a man in response to the first. "None of the Ulcathy survive! They will answer for their crimes against the crown!"

The boy hopped carefully around rubble on his good leg. A collapsed cobblestone wall had fallen across the path, kicked down during the raid. The boy hobbled faster, gritting his teeth against the sharp pain in his thigh. He willed himself to look down, but tore his eyes back towards the forest a heartbeat later. A gash ran down his thigh, an unusually large splinter of wood jutting out. The sight made him want to cry and vomit and scream all at once, but he leaned even heavier on his uninjured leg instead and set his eyes on his goal.

He covered the distance as quickly as he could. The lead he had started with was quickly running out, the able-bodied soldiers catching up much faster than he thought they would. Their heavy footsteps were like thunder, chasing him away from his home.