Overlord

by Cyndi Friberg

  “Yes, but the evil did not end with my conception. While I was little more than an embryo, my DNA was re-sequenced and enhanced in ways that are still not fully understood. I was changed, mutated into something that had never existed before. Once the madman was satisfied with his creation, he implanted me in my mother’s womb, leaving her with an unthinkable choice.”

  She started to speak then shook her head. “I don’t know what to say. Words are so inadequate to express my reaction. This villain shaped your entire life. And your poor parents. This madman took the most sacred act, the greatest miracle in life and turned it into an unimaginable violation. I’m thrilled that you were allowed to be born, but I’m not sure I could have been so selfless.” She shook her head again, looking uncomfortable and sad. “Most in my world would have chosen a different path.”

  “Most in my world would have too. My mother was special. We could sense each other almost immediately, so terminating her pregnancy was not an option. And once she’d made up her mind to continue, my father’s entire existence became protecting us.” Kage fought back the rush of emotions that swelled each time he allowed himself to think about those long-ago events, and the sacrifices made for him. It hadn’t been just his parents. His grandmother, aunt, and their mates had all rearranged their lives to ensure his survival. “My mother surrendered her life for me. She knew I was draining her strength, that she would not survive my birth, but she still refused to let anyone harm me. Giving me life literally cost her everything, yet she did so joyously.”

  Eza wrapped her arms around him, pressing in close against his body. “You must honor her sacrifice by making the most out of your life.”

  The sentimental words made him smile, yet his mood remained gloomy. Would his mother be proud of the life he’d created? Would she feel honored by his actions, his decisions? Rather than replying, he simply held Eza, silently stroking the back of her hair. Maybe this was a sign, an indication of what his mother wanted for him, the direction she hoped he would travel. A mate and a family of his own? A close-knit, peaceful community in which to build a life? Such things would only be possible if the Outcasts found a way to coexist with the Sarronti.

  “Is your father still alive?” she asked after a long pause. When he didn’t answer, she eased back and looked up at him, her hands lightly resting on his chest. “You lost both your parents?”

  He nodded, his throat too clogged with emotion to speak. After swallowing past the tightness, he managed to say, “I only know them through the memories of others.”

  “Then who took care of you? Where did you grow up?”

  His childhood had been less depressing than his birth. It had just ended abruptly. He turned back to the railing, finding the story easier to tell if he wasn’t watching her reactions. “My maternal grandmother joined with a powerful Bilarrian, so I lived on Bilarri until I was seventeen. A fanatical sect from my mother’s planet—they were known as the New Reformation Sect or NRS—was determined to wipe out my ‘unnatural existence.’ Hoping to defuse the situation, everyone on my mother’s planet was told I’d died. A few of my mother’s relatives knew the truth, but they understood how important it was that the NRS believed I was dead.”

  She touched his arm, drawing his attention as she asked, “What happened when you were seventeen? Why did you leave Bilarri?”

  The memory was sharp and unpleasant even after all these years. Anyone who assisted him or tried to protect him, became a target themselves. He was a dangerous person to know, much less befriend. “I was staying with one of my mentors when the NRS located me.”

  Like a merciless flashflood, the past came rushing back, inundating him with images and emotions. He saw his younger self, standing proud and tall beside his favorite mentor, a semi-reclusive Bilarrian respected and feared throughout the star system. Kage had been humbled when the Bilarrian agreed to mentor him. Many asked for the privilege, yet very few were ever accepted.

  In keeping with his mentor’s preference for privacy and seclusion, Kage had stayed with the Bilarrian and his mate during his years of training.

  “Try it again,” the Bilarrian said his voice calm and authoritative. “Focus on the container. See if you can disrupt the target without moving anything around it.”

  They stood in a walled garden, bathed in afternoon sunlight. The Bilarrian’s mate sat in the coolness of the covered patio, silently observing the training session. She was vivacious and kind, welcoming despite the potential danger.

  Kage gradually blocked out his surroundings, narrowing his focus until only the container remained. Telekinetics was a new ability, one that developed without warning. His gaze fixed on the empty plastic box, and he visualized it lifting and moving to the other platform about four feet away. Concentration exercises and endless hours of meditation had allowed him to achieve a level of control he’d never thought possible. The basic skills applied to all of his abilities, not just what he was attempting to do at the moment. The container shimmied then slowly rose, hovering in the air several inches off the platform. The platform remained still, undisturbed by the psychic energy commanding the plastic box.

  Suddenly, fear stabbed into Kage, the overwhelming need to defend himself. Without analyzing the impulse, he poured all his power into his external shields. A massive blast of energy knocked him backward. Pain exploded in his chest and momentarily blinded him. Acting entirely on instinct, he deflected the impact, throwing it off with all his psychic strength.

  A shrill scream cut through his confusion, drawing his gaze to the patio. His mentor’s mate lay beside her chair, a gaping wound in her upper chest. Kage shook away his shock and ran for the patio. His mentor was already there by the time Kage arrived. Kneeling beside his mate, the Bilarrian went right to work, his concentration absolute. Kage stood back in helpless horror, praying to every deity he’d ever heard of that she would survive.

  “My mentor is exceptionally gifted,” Kage concluded, bringing himself back into the present. “So he was able to revive her. Still, I brought an NRS assassin to their door.” He squared his shoulders and calmed his spirit, refusing to dwell on the past. “I vowed that nothing like that would ever happen again. No one else would be endangered by my existence. I changed my appearance, assumed a new identity, and left the star system forever.”

  She stared up at him in stunned silence for a long time. “You’ve been on the run since you were seventeen? Do any of your relatives even know you’re alive?”

  “My grandmother and aunt can meld with my dreams, so I’m unable to hide from them entirely. I often sense my mentor as well, but it has been many years since I allowed him past my shields. I’ve worked very hard to keep them from knowing my location. I’m honestly not sure if I’ve succeeded or not. Those in my bloodline are remarkably powerful for Ontarians.”

  “Ontarians? Is Ontarian the name of their planet?”

  “Ontariese,” he corrected. “There are three planets in my parent’s star system, Ontariese, Bilarri, and Rodymia.”

  “Ah, Rodymia is where many of your warriors are from.” Her head tilted to one side as she studied him. “Which planet did your father call home?”

  Her inquisitive nature fascinated him. So often curiosity was driven by ambition or some ulterior motive. Eza just wanted to understand how different people thought and how everything worked. She was complex and intelligent, but she was also remarkably innocent. “My father lived most of his life on Ontariese, but he was a Rodyte/Ontarian hybrid. However, he trained extensively on Bilarri. In fact, the mentor I mentioned trained my father as well. That’s why I was so anxious to work with him.” A pang of guilt made him tense. “And his compassion and generosity nearly cost his mate her life. The near-miss still haunts me, but I never would have forgiven myself if she’d died because of me.”

  “You were little more than a child,” she objected. “If she had died, it would have been because of the NRS, not you. You did nothing wrong.”

  The memories stirre
d again. Kage saw his mentor’s image, stern yet regal, endlessly patient and wise. They had only spent three years together, but the Bilarrian had greatly influenced Kage’s life. “That’s what my mentor said, but I still feel terrible about it.”

  Her gaze searched his for a moment longer before she said, “You have not mentioned any of these people by name. Is that intentional? Is there a reason you do not speak their names?”

  “Habit.” Shifting his gaze away from her lovely face, he sighed. “I’ve been hiding for so long. I try not to even think of any of them by name. Any connection to me, no matter how nebulous, is dangerous. That’s why I’ve kept these events so vague. The NRS is ruthless and tenacious. I will not lead this evil to your door.” Awareness arced between them, electric and hot. Gods how he wanted to touch her, to drown in her taste and memorize the texture of her skin. “Eza, I want us to—”

  “I must return to the world below,” she said firmly.

  Tension rolled through his entire body. He should have known she’d react like this. How could she not? He was not merely an outsider, a mercenary, a criminal. He was a mutated freak, a science experiment gone wrong. And she was...perfect.

  “Don’t look so panicked,” she said with a reassuring smile. “I will return, and we’ll finish this discussion, but right now, I’m needed below.”

  Refusing to be drawn in by her smile, he remained cautious, emotionally protected. “Which discussion do you mean? The terms of an alliance between our people, or a potential relationship between you and me?”

  “Either.” She moved closer and softened her voice. “Both. You know I’m attracted to you. I’m not sure what sort of relationship I can offer, but I’m interested in exploring our options.”

  Rather than responding verbally, he swept her into his arms and kissed her. Her lips parted sweetly, her tongue greeting his with a sensual slide. Her taste was familiar now, comforting, and he lingered, unwilling to lose the precious intimacy. She felt so good in his arms, so natural. He started to take the kiss deeper, but she eased back and shook her head.

  “My brother just died. I must return, or my family will come looking for me. Kantor, my brother’s eldest son, is even more hotheaded than Cagor was. If that is possible.”

  “Is Kantor a danger to you?”

  “No,” she stressed. “He has no authority over me. If he touches me, I’ll have him arrested. I’m safe now. I promise.”

  “Kantor is not part of the military?”

  She shook her head. “He lives in another village, joined with their leader’s daughter. Alonov males won’t be satisfied until they rule every village in the world below.”

  “I didn’t even realize there was more than one village until recently.” Kage shook his head and released another sigh. “I clearly have much to learn about your world, Lady Eza. When will you return?”

  “An Ayrontu sendoff—what you would call a funeral—lasts three days. It will take several days to arrange everything, so it’s doubtful I’ll be able to return for at least a week. By then, I should know who replaced my brother and have a better understanding of our best course of action.”

  He nodded, knowing nothing he could say would keep her from leaving. Once he’d touched a mind, the path was established. It wasn’t active at the moment, but he’d sense any sudden spike in her emotions. It was doubtful she’d be comforted by the fact, so he said nothing about the connection. Still, the situation below could be more volatile than she realized. He would remain alert and wary.

  “Kage, I will return.”

  She sounded earnest and looked sincere, but he had a weakness for beautiful females. They had been much more successful at manipulating him than other males. “You know where to find me.”

  She acknowledged the statement with a subtle nod, then teleported off his ship.

  EZA SANK ONTO THE EDGE of her bed with a heavy sigh. Leaving Kage had been ridiculously hard. She never should have allowed herself to become so emotionally invested in the overlord or the struggle of his people. Her own civilization was on the brink of civil war. She must focus on the conflicts in the world below. Her only concern regarding the Outcasts should be whether or not they could assist her in achieving her goals. There was too much to accomplish, and too many were depending on her. She sighed. The first thing she needed to do was figure out the next step now that her brother had been defeated.

  Would the Sarronti military even consider the outcome a defeat? The Outcasts had escaped without any loss of life, but one of their most prized ships was now a flightless heap. Sarronti weapons had bested the Outcasts at every turn, yet they’d prevented the destruction of the Wheel which had clearly been Cagor’s objective. She had a feeling both sides would claim the victory, which meant nothing was gained by the battle. Well, one development was undeniable. Cagor had passed beyond, so the military would need a new leader. Either war chief would be better than her brother, but Malik was much more sympathetic to the need for change than Apex.

  Someone tapped on the bedroom door. “Lady Eza?” The soft, musical voice belonged to Litta, Eza’s personal attendant.

  “Come in,” Eza called.

  The door eased inward, but Litta remained in the doorway. She was a timid girl with powder-blue hair and eyes. She’d stepped into the role when her mother passed beyond last summer. The mother had been much more efficient, but Eza refused to replace Litta as long as the girl was attempting to improve. “High Councilor Indrex asked me to check if you’d returned.”

  “Is the council in session?” It would make sense that they would meet following the battle. There was much to decide.

  “They are about to begin but didn’t want to start without you. However, High Councilor Indrex said he understood if you are not up to the meeting right now.” Litta seemed pleased with herself as if she’d been afraid she’d forget part of the message. The poor thing really was hopelessly scattered most of the time.

  “Tell him I’ll be there directly. I need to make myself presentable.”

  “Yes, mistress.” Litta nodded happily and closed the door. Her mother would have sent the message remotely and stayed to help Eza dress, but Eza had given up on that level of service. Litta was trying, and no one else would put up with her flightiness. Her transformation into competent servant was taking longer than Eza had hoped, but Litta was improving.

  Shaking away the distraction, Eza went to her wardrobe and chose a gown more appropriate to a council meeting, a jewel-bright blue that was heavily embroidered in silver. She’d dressed casually when she went to meet Kage in the woods. Had that only been three days ago? It felt like a lifetime. After donning the new gown, she washed her face and braided her hair then hurried to the council chambers.

  Muttered condolences and polite greetings reached Eza as she passed through the large common room. Artificial light and illusion generators created expansive views outside nonexistent windows, allowing the inhabitants to believe their underground world was like any other. Vendor booths and small shops were arranged along the perimeter, while tables and benches dominated the center. Everyone Eza passed seemed lost in their duties, so immersed in the routine that they no longer wondered about the world above. She found it tragic.

  Domestic corridors branched off in all directions like the long, twisting tentacles of some ancient sea creature. Most were lined with dormitories housing around twenty Niffal or Witernel workers. Their days were long and arduous, so they required only a place to catch a few hours of sleep. Midlevel designations, Layot and Sestaul, were rewarded with private accommodations, though they were often shared by multiple generations of the same family. The Jintta were considered the second-highest designation. Still, most were soldiers and therefore lived in barracks and dined on communal meals. Only the Ayrontu, the empowered elite, warranted multi-room apartments and individually prepared meals. Eza had always found the disparity strange, but only in recent years had it made her ashamed of her designation.

  All of the “importa
nt” offices and meeting halls were arranged along the widest corridor. The council chamber was no exception. Grim-faced guards flanked the massive doors at the end of the corridor. Were they meant to prevent interruptions or keep the council members inside? The fanciful thought did little to lighten her mood as they immediately opened the doors and motioned her inside. The cavernous room was a ridiculous waste of space. An ornately sculpted, polished stone table rested in the center of the room. The oval monstrosity could easily seat twenty but was meant for seven, one representative from each of the six designations, and the high councilor.

  Everyone was already seated, so Eza moved to her place at Indrex’s right and sat down. The representatives from the three higher designations lined the right side of the table. The lower designations sat on the left. Indrex Farr—Isolaund’s brother—was high counselor, but he did not represent Ayrontu. That was Eza’s job. Indrex was a facilitator, and he only voted to break a tie. Or at least that’s how it was supposed to work. Far too often lately, Indrex influenced others, using manipulation and even subtle threats to affect the outcome.

  “Before we begin,” Indrex said, sleek pale-blue hair framing his elegant features. “May I personally express my deepest condolences. Cagor was a brave and honorable soldier. He will be missed.”

  She shot Indrex an impatient look and didn’t bother with a reply. They all knew Cagor was an amoral monster who preyed on females. But Indrex, like most members of the Ayrontu, was more concerned with appearances than reality. House Alonov was ancient and powerful. All of Cagor’s sins would be erased, and history would record his actions as brave and noble. It was disgusting.

  “Kantor Alonov arrived a short time ago,” Malik told her. Unlike Indrex, Malik had earned his notoriety through hard work and sacrifice, and his appearance reflected the effort. He was muscular and rugged, having more in common with Outcast mercenaries than Ayrontu lords. Compassion warmed Malik’s pastel-purple eyes, and his hair, also purple but many shades darker, was secured at the nape of his neck. “Kantor knew you’d be busy here, so he began planning his father’s sendoff.”