The Xenoworld Saga Box Set

by Kyle West

  Still, it was better than not hiding. Isaru pulled me deeper underwater, until the pressure was heavy, and we were covered by some thick, red kelp.

  And there we remained for at least half a minute, though to my burning lungs, it felt much longer. I was the first one to break, pushing off the riverbed and shooting for the surface.

  Once there, I drew several deep breaths while looking above. There was nothing but the starry sky and no trace of the dragon swarm. Had I remained sleeping, I would have never known they had passed.

  Isaru and I swam to the riverbank. We pulled ourselves from the river, grabbed our boots, and walked back to the outcrop where the canoe was hidden. Among the rocks, we lay down, trying to stay out of sight as best we could, in case they got the idea to come back.

  “I think they missed us,” Isaru said. “Had we gone straight here, they would have seen us for sure.”

  “There were so many...” I said. “At least a hundred.”

  “Yes,” Isaru said. “But what worries me is where they’re going.”

  Wherever that swarm was going, people were going to lose their lives. Lots of people.

  “Those dragons looked to be heading due south,” I said. “That would take them to Colonia.”

  Isaru nodded. “More or less. Haven is east, the Ruins west. Colonia is the only thing south that’s of any interest.”

  The thought made me sick to my stomach. Even if Colonia was the seat of the Covenant, it was also where I had grown up. My parents were there. Naomi was there. Shara – even if she had changed – was also there, not to mention thousands of innocent people.

  “And no time to warn them,” I said. “The Dragnonriders can’t stand against that. They are not so numerous.”

  “There’s nothing we can do,” Isaru said. “This is unprecedented. The Mindless seem to be growing in strength and organization. They attacked Nava Village with three, but this is a concerted effort, possibly drawing dragons from multiple Aeries for an attack hundreds of miles away. If they are indeed going to Colonia, then nowhere is safe.”

  “What does it mean? Why is this happening?”

  It took a long moment for Isaru to respond. “Nothing good. This might be the start of a second Mindless war.”

  If all the Mindless organized and attacked as one, it was hard to imagine anyone being able to stop them.

  “Maybe they weren’t Mindless,” I said. “Maybe they were Generationals.”

  “This far south?”

  Isaru had a point, but I still wanted to hope.

  My parents would be in the Red Bastion, and ironically, that was the safest place for them. Others, like Naomi, were in danger. The Subura itself was the first place the dragons would run into, not counting the villages along the river.

  It wasn’t easy, but we went to sleep. All I could think about was how long it would take a dragon to cover the distance from here to Colonia. Two hours, or three?

  Please be Generationals, I thought.

  Even if I couldn’t think of a reason why Generationals would travel in such numbers, I told myself that they were Generationals all the same. Perhaps they were avenging Jorla’s death?

  Whatever the case...within hours, Colonia would be the scene of a slaughter, and there was nothing we could do about it.

  WHEN WE WOKE, WE ATE another large meal and I couldn't help but notice, this being only the second day from the Ruins, that our packs were already lighter. I was ravenous, and I knew it was from the battle yesterday and all the work we had done paddling, not to mention the energy I had burned with Battletrance. Even if the trance allowed your body to burn fuel more quickly and efficiently, it was hard to tell from where we had gotten all the energy.

  It wasn’t comforting, knowing how quickly we were going through our food, but we didn’t hold back. If we couldn’t walk, then we couldn’t get to where we were going.

  Once done, we dragged the canoe back to the river. Shortly after, we were paddling east once again, staying on the lookout for a place to scale the cliff.

  The mood was grim, because the dragons were still fresh on our minds. All I could think about was the battle that must be going on right now. I still held out some hope that the dragons weren’t Mindless, but Generationals.

  All I could do was let go, and try to take comfort in the fact that, being in the Red Bastion, my parents were probably safe. I tried to think of our own mission, scanning the northern cliff face for any possible route up.

  The terrain transitioned, slowly, from one of xen-covered desert to one which hosted thickets of trees interlaced with creeping vines and thick undergrowth. The trees grew in both number and thickness as the morning went on. It got to the point where the cliffs were mostly hidden, except at the very top. Half of the trees had green leaves, while the other half had the characteristic silver and pink foliage of xen-based life forms. The trees were not only thick along the river, but also along the tops of the cliffs on both the north and south sides. We were in the midst of the Selvan, and yet, we continued on.

  Even the river's flow seemed slower here, as thick gnarled roots and vines crisscrossed the water, some reaching as far as the center of the river, visible beneath the clear water.

  Even so, neither of us suggested turning around. I felt a rising hope that Isaru wanted to keep going, despite the risk of discovery. Assuming we could get past Haven and disguise ourselves well enough, it would be much easier...and likelier safer, than going through the Exiled Lands.

  We took a short break for lunch and continued on our way, rounding a bend...only to find that there was another canoe heading downstream.

  It was distant yet, but fast approaching.

  “Plan?” I asked.

  “There’s no reason to act strangely,” Isaru said. “Not yet, anyway. Just paddle to the right side and let them pass.”

  We did as Isaru suggested, but clearly, the person had a mind to talk, because they shifted course to intercept us.

  “What if you’re recognized?” I asked.

  “We’ll get there when we get there,” Isaru said, though his voice seemed concerned.

  The canoe was closer now, and its paddler was easier to make out. It was a man, short of stature with narrow shoulders, who wore a wide-brimmed black hat that shaded most of his narrow face in deep shadow. As he got closer, however, I realized that the shadow obscuring was too dark. At first, I thought the man was dark-skinned, but his face was darker than even that. It took me a moment to realize that it was paint, as black as night. Despite the heat of the day, the rest of his body was covered thickly – he wore long pants, a dark brown cloak with wide sleeves, and his pale hands were slender, almost feminine, but he strongly handled the craft with a strength which belied his build. He didn't seem the least bit fatigued.

  Isaru and I stopped paddling when his canoe was just a few strokes away. The strange man turned his own craft horizontal in order to bar our progress.

  Which was when a crossbow on his back was revealed.

  Isaru and I just stared in shock as the man lifted his face, ever so slightly, which did little to reveal his features. There was something very unnerving about him that went beyond his strange appearance.

  I decided to try at conversation. “You’re the one who saved us, aren’t you?”

  “You must turn back,” he said, ignoring my question.

  There was an awkward moment before Isaru responded. “Why?”

  “This is not your path,” the man said, ominously. “Turn back.”

  “And who are you that we should listen?” Isaru asked. “I know you saved us and everything, for which I thank you, but I need to know why we can’t go this way. Who are you? It would be good to speak to you, if you have a moment.”

  “You don’t need to know anything about me.”

  “Did you follow us here?” I asked. “How did you get ahead without us noticing?”

  He had probably passed us while we were taking our long sleep – a sleep that had lasted for a
good portion of yesterday afternoon as well as last night.

  “Why are you following us?” Isaru demanded, again.

  The man said nothing. His point was clear; he wasn’t here for conversation, and he had said his piece. We weren’t going any further this way, and if we tried, he would contest it by force.

  “Tell us why this isn’t our path,” Isaru said again, more calmly. “Please.”

  I reached out with my mind, to sense whether he was Elekai...only to find a wall. It wasn’t as if there was nothing there to sense, but at the same time, I felt my reach being repulsed. If the man was Elekai, he had guarded his mind against such things. I didn’t have a mind to try pushing any harder.

  We stared at each other across the short stretch of water. There would be no contest; situated as we were, there was no way to fight, and he could land a bolt in either of us within seconds if it came to that. Even if either Isaru or I could get to him, one of us would die in the process.

  The question still remained, though: why had this man saved us in the first place? Something told me that any amount of asking, or even pleading, wouldn’t get him to say another word.

  “We’ll go back,” Isaru said. “We’re trying to cross north, and we’ve probably gone too far in, anyway.”

  The man nodded, not in a gloating way, but in a way that could only be described as businesslike. “You have gone too far. Downstream, several hours, you should come upon a place where the cliff is passable. Go there now.”

  Then, he used his paddle to quickly turn and go back upriver. Isaru and I watched for a long moment before we ourselves turned.

  Once safely out of earshot, Isaru cursed. “Who does he think he is, ordering us about like that?”

  “He’s the man who saved our hides, and the man who told us how to get out of this canyon.”

  “We must have missed it in the darkness last night,” Isaru said, grudgingly.

  “Whatever the case, and whoever he is...we know our path now.”

  Our progress was a lot faster than I had expected, going downstream. By sunset, we were well out of the Selvan and had found the spot the strange man had mentioned, recognized only because it was the only part of the cliff that looked like it might be possible to climb without falling to our deaths.

  We pulled the canoe on shore, hefted on our packs, and topped off all our water, including the reserves we had in our pack. We then drank until nearly bursting.

  We then turned our attention to the cliff. There was light enough still to make it to the top. The slope was steep and composed of loose rock, likely where the original cliff had collapsed. Going up would be tricky, but very much doable.

  So, we got started. Several times, my foot slipped, and I had to catch myself. The last fifty feet or so became steeper, but there were plenty of holds that allowed us to keep going. The hard part was climbing with the heavy pack, which also shifted my balance. I stayed as close to the rock slope as I could, making sure my grip was tight and the holds steady. I followed Isaru’s lead, since he seemed to be more experienced in climbing.

  By the time the sun completely dipped below the horizon, we were out of the canyon and out of breath. We rested a minute and looked down. The only sign we had ever been there was the canoe, which would likely sit abandoned for a long time, if not forever.

  Then, we looked out to the north, where the last remains of sunlight revealed a scorched desert flatland stretching all the way to the dark horizon, where some of the earliest stars were beginning to emerge. The cracked terrain was only broken up by rocks, boulders, mesas, the odd dune, and mangled cliffs, but for the most part, was flat. There didn't look as if there was any water in sight.

  “I thought we’d be able to see the Wild from up here,” I said.

  “I did, too. That just means we should head northeast. We’ll hit the Selvan eventually, which we can follow all the way to the Salt Lake, like we talked about.”

  Isaru sounded sure of our path, so I could only hope it was as simple as that.

  “It’ll be a clear night,” Isaru said. “There should be light enough to head to that mesa. It’s only a couple of miles off, if I had to guess.”

  We traveled in silence, setting a fast pace. It wasn’t long before we were stopping in the shadow of the mesa, which was much larger up close than it had seemed from the top of the canyon.

  There, we prepared a stew, throwing in the last of the fish Rasi had given us. I took inventory of our stock – between Isaru and I, we probably had at least sixty or seventy pounds of food, precious little of it being meat. The priests seemed to mostly eat plants, which made sense considering where they lived. Still, it would have been nice to have some fish or even chicken. I could only hope for some good hunting, which, given the barren terrain, didn’t seem all too likely.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Isaru said, after dousing our fire. “It might be better to travel by night if we can manage it. It would save on water, and the moon is waxing, and the skies always seem to be clear out here.”

  “We might be harder to see, too,” I said. “If anyone’s watching. We can start doing that tomorrow. We’ll just continue walking until sunrise.”

  Isaru agreed, so we settled down for the night.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  ISANDRU AND I STEPPED INTO the entry hall of the Cloud Palace, and as we did so, a line of the Royal Guard regaled in black, shimmering hyperplate and curved hyperswords stood to attention, flourishing the weapons with deadly grace. Isandru and I continued on as though they weren’t even there; why my mother insisted they do that any time a member of the royal family passed was beyond me.

  The parishioners filling the Dome of the Clouds bowed and curtsied as Isandru and I made our way to the Cerulean Stairway, composed of solidified ichor that gleamed blue under the high windows. The Cloud Palace’s main hub was meant to evoke its namesake, and the light, fluted columns had an airy quality, seeming far too thin to support the three balconies that tiered the dome itself.

  It was on the second floor, at the top of the Cerulean Stairway, that the entrance to the throne room could be found. When we arrived at the top, it was to the sight of a throng of people, speaking in hushed tones in front of the open throne room doors. Yes, apparently word had gotten out that I had been doing something I wasn’t supposed to be, and their whispers only intensified as Isandru and I passed the intricately engraved doors that led into the throne room. Already, I could see that both of my parents were holding court, could see them sitting on their high thrones. Already, even across the distance of red carpet, I could see my mother fixing her gaze upon me.

  I resisted the urge to swallow the lump forming in my throat. It was best to get this bit of unpleasantness over with as soon as possible.

  Even if I was fifteen, relating to my parents in front of their court was a precarious balance. Something told me that, for this summoning, I would be treated more as a subject than a daughter. I wasn't supposed to be in the forest and shirking my lessons, and I had gotten in trouble for it far too often to have a good excuse.

  But viewings and prophecies from the Xenofold were more important than getting in trouble, and even if I hadn’t had a direct prophecy, I had all the same felt Annara’s presence. Even now, I felt as if she were watching over me. The more time I spent in the forest, the glades, and the groves, the emptier the majestic buildings of the city seemed by comparison.

  Though it was Annara’s visions that I sought, it was to Samal and Retha that House Farl attributed its rights of office. Farl was among the oldest and most prestigious houses, and the only house that could, at least directly, trace its lineage to those gods. Our crest itself was a powerful one: two dragons, one Askaleen and the other Radaska, facing each other on a crest shaped like a Silverwood. There was no symbol more powerful or evocative of everything Elekai.

  “Prince Isandru, of House Farl, and his sister, Princess Mia!” the nearby herald called.

  The few parishioners and nobles within t
he throne room immediately ceased their murmurings, instead turning to face my brother and me. They maintained respectful silence, though their eyes were anything but. As heir to the throne, Isandru commanded a certain level of respect I was not often afforded, and certainly not in this situation. I tried not to focus on them as Isandru and I walked up the carpet, a walk that seemed to take an eternity. I locked eyes with each of my parents, and despite feeling anything but confident, I walked with a straight back and a high chin. Even if I was nervous, no one else here had to know that.

  My parents watched as we approached. My father was a strong man, with a wide face and trim gray beard, and handsome features despite the fact that he had gained quite a bit of weight over the last few years. It looked as if a smile was tugging at his lips, which wasn’t a surprise. In comparison to my mother, my father wasn’t one for discipline. He was dressed in colors of purple and silver, while the Glowing Crown, composed of ichorstone and studded with gems, rested on his head, and the graying of his hair on his temples lent an extra dash of majesty. Though my father was fifty-nine years old, there was a smoothness to his face that belied his true age. Because of his ichor treatments, he didn't look a day over forty.

  My mother sitting next to him was a woman of great beauty – younger than my father, at fifty-five, but she appeared half that age. Unlike my father, her face was severe, and her eyes were angry. Her eyes were striking, because they were violet, like two amethysts, which often had a slight glow. Her power was great, not only in authority, but in her command of her Gifts. The only ones she lacked were Prophecy, Envisioning, and Dragonspeech, and it was said that her Xenohealing was as good as any doctor’s, and some said it was even better. Her hair was long, wavy, and silver, and her face a perfect oval of queenly beauty. Her dress, wavy and ethereal, was like water itself, luminous and sparkling.

  She was of a minor house, and it likely hadn’t just been her looks that caught my father’s eye, but her raw strength. It was important for the royal family’s heir to be of great ability, and King Farl had gotten that in abundance with Isandru.