by Ivy Barrett
A few minutes later he stood with his brother on the back lawn. They each drew energy into their chest then forced it out in a sudden rush. Their wings manifested in a burst of color and light. They looked at each other, exchanging a depth of emotion they would never put into words, then launched themselves into the cloudless sky.
* * *
Azra’s mouth was so dry he could barely speak as he tried to contact his brother for the third time. It had been six years since they’d communicated in any way. Six years since the tribunal dismissed Zilrath’s petition to evict Azra and restore Nomani House to its ‘rightful’ owner.
“Is Zilrath in the military?” Erin asked when the third attempt also failed.
“No, but his mate’s family are all military. I’d contact them directly, but they like me even less than Zilrath.”
“Do they have children?”
He shook his head. “She died four years ago, but he’s remained close with her family. Probably because his is so fucked up.”
“Oseth said you have siblings, as in more than one. Are the others brothers or sisters?”
“Two sisters. Zilrath and I are the only males.” Her curiosity was understandable, but her timing was terrible. “I’ll tell you all about them once this crisis has passed. Right now I need to concentrate.”
“Of course. I’m sorry.” She tried to step back, but he caught her wrists and pulled her closer.
He kissed her on the lips, a quick but tender exchange, then turned back to the control grid. He’d transformed the wall in front of his desk into a multi-level display. News feeds from all over the planet showed scenes of destruction and despair, smoking rubble and terrified faces. The Skarilian ships were massive, and swarms of agile fighters flew on and off the larger ships. He’d seen recordings of Skarilian attacks, other planets being decimated. But this was Tavor. The people being slaughtered were his people, whether they accepted him or not.
Oseth walked into the office a few minutes later. “The Protectorate has offered supplies, shelter for refugees, and treatment for the injured. The chancellor would like to know if there is any way to create a portal large enough to fly ships through. He’s willing to send reinforcements, but needs a way to get them here.”
Azra looked up, frustrated by his helplessness. “It can be done. I saw it once in my youth, but it takes six people with abilities like mine. I don’t have the connections to make it happen. I have no idea who to contact.”
“Does Zilrath?” Oseth dared to ask.
Azra scowled, but understood his podmate’s persistence. “The bastard won’t respond to my comms, conventional or telepathic.”
Oseth made a helpless gesture. “He’s probably in the middle of one of the raids.”
“Or he’s a selfish asshole who is going to lose our assistance because of his fucking pride!” With an exasperated hiss, Azra turned back to the news feeds.
Oseth grabbed Erin and gave her a hug. “Where are Urrya and LeAuntiez?”
“Recon,” she told him. “They should be back shortly.”
“I have a better idea,” Azra said, but didn’t explain. He reached across his telepathic link with Urrya and asked him to go collect Zilrath and bring him to Nomani House with or without his cooperation. Urrya agreed and cruel anticipation rippled across the link. We need him conscious, he warned with a smile.
Understood, Urrya responded.
“What did you just do?” Oseth asked. “That smile always means trouble.”
“Urrya and LeAuntiez are going to escort Zilrath here, so I can demonstrate the error of his attitude.”
Oseth grinned. “I love the way you think.”
An especially bright flash drew Azra’s attention to the top left news feed. Dread gripped his heart and his lungs refused to function. The explosion eclipsed the entire shot, which had been displaying a large city. He’d lost track of which one. He reactivated sound, but it was too late. There was only static and a few seconds later the picture went blank.
“Oh, God,” Kyla muttered and Erin walked over to comfort her friend.
Oseth was suddenly at his side, hand resting on his shoulder. “The rest will happen fast.”
“We can’t just sit here and watch!” He shot to his feet, momentarily blinded by tears of rage. “We have to do something. I have to do something.”
“You were on the right track.” Oseth remained calm and composed, offering information and strategies grounded in experience. “They always hit the densely populated areas first then work their way out to more remote locations. We’ve got a day, maybe two. Let’s evacuate as many as we possibly can.”
“To Earth?” Azra wanted to scream. He’d never felt so useless, so powerless. “Will the Protectorate allow that?”
“The Protectorate doesn’t govern Earth,” Erin said firmly. “They’ve been contracted to protect it.”
“She’s right,” Kyla stressed. “Without authorization from one of Earth’s—”
“Bron is working right now to get authorization from the U.S. government,” Oseth told them. “I commed him a short time ago. The Protectorate is willing to help, but the chancellor isn’t going to do anything to fuck up our arrangement with humans.”
Apparently satisfied with the answer, Erin asked Azra, “How long can you hold open a portal? How many other Tavorians can create them too?”
“A hundred, maybe two,” Oseth told her. “And we’ve never had reason to test how long he can—”
“I held one open for over an hour during training. I’m even stronger now.” Azra turned back to the displays, feeling cold, almost numb. Tavor was going to be destroyed and there wasn’t a fucking thing he could do about it. He watched one city after another explode, paralyzed by grief and fury.
Oseth turned the display off with a sharp voice command. “Focus on what we can do, those we can save.”
Azra nodded, but he just sat there, staring at the wall.
Erin took him by the hand and led him out of the office. Kyla trailed in their wake. They went to the media room, but the picturesque view did nothing to soothe his shattered composure. His mind became a senseless droning and all he could see were the flashes of light, brilliant harbingers of death, and horror-filled faces.
Urrya arrived a short time later with an infuriated Zilrath in tow.
“This is kidnapping, you freakish bird! I’ll have you arrested for—”
“Your enforcers have better things to do, you feckless asshole.” LeAuntiez shoved the struggling Tavorian into the media room.
Zilrath spotted Azra and charged toward him. “You have no right to bring me here! I have a real family to protect and people who—”
“I can evacuate them off this planet,” Azra snapped, driving purpose slowly penetrating his shock. “Can you?”
Zilrath glared at him, gray-blue eyes gleaming with hostility. His custom-tailored garments were wrinkled and smudged with dirt, sleek hair wildly windblown. “I was in the process of making arrangements when your henchman accosted me.”
“Every spaceport on this planet will be obliterated within the hour,” Oseth predicted. “If you really want to save your ‘real family,’ Azra is your only hope.”
Gathering his wits enough to think beyond the pain, Azra looked at Urrya. “Bring as many of the villagers here as you can. I want to start the evacuation the second we have permission. Fuck that. If the humans refuse, we’ll do it anyway. It’s not like they can stop me.”
“Take them to Camp Accord,” LeAuntiez suggested. “Very few humans can reach the settlement. Besides, it’s technically Ventori land, just like an embassy.”
Azra tromped down his resentment and looked at LeAuntiez. “Excellent suggestion.”
He nodded once then added, “If anyone fights you on this, they’ll answer to me.”
“Thank you.”
Zilrath watched the exchange, silent and resentful. He crossed his arms over his chest and continued to glare at Azra. “Why am I here?” Wealth and
privilege gave him a regal bearing and slightly condescending tone. Even in the midst of a planet-wide catastrophe, he seemed to think he was above it all.
Azra approached him slowly, head held high. “Tell me what’s not on the news feeds. Have the Skarilians even attempted to negotiate?”
Zilrath’s chin came up, his expression haughty. “They gave us one chance to surrender. We refused and they started dropping bombs.”
“Then Tavor is lost.” Azra said emphatically. “All we can do is evacuate as many as possible.”
Doubt finally registered in Zilrath’s expression. “That’s ridiculous. We have ships and a defense grid that can—”
“It won’t matter,” Urrya stressed. “Attempting any sort of resistance only wastes time better spent evacuating. Unless you’d rather become a Skarilian slave, of course.”
“What the fuck do they want?” Zilrath ran a hand through his hair, disrupting what little remained of its style. “Why are they doing this to us? We are a peaceful people. We threaten no one.”
Urrya and Oseth had bruises that proved otherwise, but Azra kept the observation to himself. “No one has been able to answer that question. They destroy much more than they utilize. It seems to be about conquest, not colonization.”
“They enjoy it,” LeAuntiez said. “They’re evil. End of story.”
“The chancellor indicated that the Protectorate will send troops,” Oseth stated. “But they need a portal large enough to fly ships through. How long would it take to assemble a team capable of opening a portal that big?”
Zilrath shook his head. “Days, perhaps weeks. If there are even six warlocks still alive.”
The label made Azra cringe. Warlock was a derogatory term, and Zilrath knew it. Gatekeeper was the appropriate term for those able to create portals. It was considered the most powerful Tavorian ability by most, and Zilrath had always been jealous that Azra had inherited it from their father. Still, their conflict would have to wait. Zilrath possessed a network of contacts that would enable them to save many more lives than if he wasn’t involved. “Comm everyone you know and have them bring the survivors here. “ He looked at LeAuntiez and added, “Can you contact whoever is in charge of Camp Accord and ask him to prepare for the refugees?”
“Of course.” LeAuntiez nodded once, then left the room. Kyla went with him.
Arrogance slowly bled out of Zilrath’s body and he just looked lost. “It will be faster if I create a group communique rather than trying to contact everyone individually.”
“Let’s go back to the office.” Azra motioned toward the hallway. “I’ll assist you.”
Chapter Nine
Urrya scanned the back yard, ensuring that everyone was remaining calm and following directions. LeAuntiez and Zilrath were supervising the shuttles and small ships as they landed in the adjacent field. Word spread quickly and demand for their tiny evacuation hub increased as the situation all over Tavor became more and more desperate. As each ship offloaded, the passengers were evaluated and directed to various locations around the estate according to their needs.
Those simply wanting off the planet were immediately sent to the far side of the yard where Azra or one of the other gatekeepers formed the transport portal. The two gatekeepers not working either absorbed energy donated by the refugees or slept, and every few hours they rotated. The system had allowed them to provide a nearly constant portal for the past thirty-two hours.
Refugees with injuries were taken to the castle’s ballroom where a healer, with the help of Oseth, Erin, and Kyla, ensured that they were stable enough to survive the trip to Earth. Wounds were dressed, broken bones splinted, and lacerations closed with multi-meds. Anything more serious would have to be dealt with once they arrived on Earth.
Urrya stood in the middle of it all, doing his best to spot potential problems and keep everything running smoothly. A steady stream of Tavorians hurried through the portal toward a planet most had never heard of before today. Azra shifted his feet farther apart and shuddered, clearly fighting to keep his eyes open. Stubborn fool. Getting him to stop had been a struggle each time it was his turn to feed and rest. And it looked like that time had come again.
Bracing himself for the inevitable confrontation, Urrya raised his hand, halting the line of anxious refugees. “It will be just a moment. The gatekeepers need to rotate.”
“We’ve been waiting for hours,” a young mother objected. “Can’t he wait until after we’ve gone through?” She had a baby on her hip and a small child clinging to her pant leg. The child was sobbing.
Urrya was about to agree when he noticed the exhausted elderly couple behind her and the other children farther back in the line. “If he collapses everyone is trapped. It will be just a moment,” he said firmly and turned toward his stubborn podmate.
The portal fluctuated and Azra groaned, but refused to stop.
“Enough!” Urrya shouted. “Shut it down.”
Azra complied with an angry look. “I’m fine. Salitta has only been resting for a couple of hours. She is exhausted.”
“As are you,” Urrya shot back, quickly closing the distance between them. “Donors are waiting in your library. Once they have fed you, go to bed!”
Azra rubbed his neck then stretched out his back, clearly frustrated by the interruption. A female Tavorian squeezed his elbow as she moved past him and took up the position he’d just vacated. That must be Salitta, Urrya realized. The other gatekeepers were male. She took a deep breath and opened a portal. The line of refugees heading to Earth began moving again.
Steps dragging, Azra followed Urrya toward the castle’s nearest entrance. Most of the once lush lawn had been trampled so badly, dirt showed in places. Many shuttles had been abandoned, making it hard for other ships to land. Frightened people could be so selfish. Urrya had tried to confine the refugees to the main floor of the mansion and a few specific rooms in the castle, but he kept finding people wandering beyond the approved areas. There simply were too many areas to supervise efficiently. Items had already been looted and vandalized, but he couldn’t let that discourage him. The vast majority of these people were running for their lives, and were grateful for the assistance.
“How many have passed through?” Azra asked as they neared the castle.
Urrya kept pace with him, determined to make sure he actually went to bed. “Thousands. Many thousands. I’m not sure. They’re creating a roster on the other side. We’re just an escape hatch.”
“Did the human government finally respond to our request?” They reached the door and stepped into the cool interior of the castle. Azra paused. “Camp Accord isn’t large enough to deal with this many.”
“The humans not only approved the request, they’re transferring most of the refugees to a military base near Colorado Springs. Apparently that’s southeast of Camp Accord. They’re much better equipped for this sort of emergency than our tiny settlement.” Urrya thought the development would please Azra, but he still looked troubled. “What’s wrong?”
“Tavorians are highly suspicious of outsiders. At least they’ve traded with the Ventori. I’m not sure how they’ll react to humans. Or how humans will react to them.”
“They’re alive to react. That’s what’s important.” He shoved Azra toward the door leading inside. “Go find a donor, then go to bed.”
Azra shoved him back with a smile, then turned toward the library as Urrya headed into the ballroom.
The ballroom was a disaster. Bloody clothes, discarded bandages, and wrappers from medical supplies overflowed the trash receptacles. Several cots had been arranged in a row. The two females worked near each other. Kyla used a multi-med to close a gaping wound on one male’s leg, while Erin applied a pressure dressing to another male’s upper arm. Both females were clearly occupied, so Urrya walked over to Oseth.
“Hey, you caught us in a lull. How are things out in the yard?” Oseth was using a push broom and three utility bots in an effort to tame the mess and minim
ize the contamination.
“About like this place looks. Barely contained chaos.” Oseth just smiled and continued sweeping. “Where’s the healer?”
“Lying down. We’ve each tried to sleep as things slow down. It never stays quiet for long.”
“We need help.” The admission didn’t sit well with Urrya. They were Brokvata. There should be no challenge they couldn’t overcome.
“I sent a message to the chancellor, asked if he could send us a couple of medics and a few soldiers. I don’t want to scare people, but I’m not sure how much longer we can keep this up.”
“Good call. We’re all dead on our feet, and the refugees prone to misbehavior are growing bolder.”
Oseth nodded. “Should have sent the message hours ago. In fact, I might have waited too long. The last group through here was from Instrimn.”
“Damn it. I knew it would happen fast, but...” His gaze shifted to Erin. She looked pale, eyes deeply shadowed by fatigue. He’d need to insist she take another break soon. She was just as stubborn as Azra. “I wish we could find a couple more gatekeepers. It would double our capacity.”
“It’s wishful thinking, bro. Like I said, the Skarilians are nearly here.”
Urrya just shook his head, fighting back a fresh surge of emotion. “I thought we’d have more time.”
After briefly speaking with Erin and Kyla, Urrya walked the ground level of the mansion. As before, he noticed small items missing and signs of malicious mischief. Crisis revealed a person’s true character, both good and bad. Refusing to be frustrated by the annoyance, he returned to the yard and found LeAuntiez and Zilrath assisting the evacuation line rather than supervising ships.
“What’s going on?” Urrya asked his brother.
“Zilrath just received word. Skarilian forces are headed this way. They just bombed Instrimn. All incoming shuttles have been rerouted to other evac hubs. We’re supposed to shut everything down and evacuate ourselves. Run back and tell Oseth and Erin. We’ll finish up here.”
“Understood.” He turned around and ran back the way he’d come, heartbeat accelerating along with his pace. “You were right, Oseth,” he called as he burst into the cavernous room. “We need to shut down and move out!” He rushed over to Erin and Kyla, helping them finish bandaging the Tavorians. “Go get in line,” he told the males once they were finished. “The portal will remain open until everyone is through.”
