Zuran: A Paranormal Sci-Fi Alien Romance: Albaterra Mates Book 6

by Ashley L. Hunt

  They were the Council Guard, members of the Dhal’atian branch. I did not know them well, but I knew them, and they were such that they made Venan seem good-natured and cheerful. The scowls on their faces were permanent, and they walked with an aggression one would expect only to see when marching into battle.

  “It is time,” said the largest of them. His voice was so low it was nearly a rumble, and he spoke with as little inflection as Venan did in his grief.

  Mother clambered to her feet again, and she started to approach the guards with her mouth open, but Father flung an arm around her waist and pulled her back. I knew she wanted to argue in favor of her boy; she would have done so for me as well. Father, however, was right to restrain her. These were not the officials with whom to argue.

  Venan turned slowly on the spot. He extended his hands toward them, his thumbs only inches apart, and closed his eyes. I could barely see his face anymore now that the firelight was on his back and his features were in shadows, but his jaw was clenched with stoic determination. The guard clapped two black, slender bracelets over his wrists, and a blinding yellow light ignited around them with a single strand of light between, connecting them. I was more familiar with Dhal’atian shackles than I cared to be, having been a rather troublesome youth, but I doubted Venan knew their dangers. I hoped he knew better than to touch the black bands together, for he would be electrocuted into unconsciousness.

  “Zuran,” Mother hissed desperately from my father’s grasp. She was nearly doubled over in her efforts to get away from him and throw herself between Venan and the guards. “You must do something!”

  “Oraaka, there is nothing he can do,” Father said with quiet harshness. “Unless you wish to have both sons in prison, you have to let them take him.”

  Mother let out a whimper of heartache, and I felt it sting me squarely in the chest. Just this morning, I had been sprinting through the desert in an effort to keep fit with little care in the world. Now, I was watching my twin brother’s arrest on the threshold of my parents’ home while my mother fell to pieces and the kingdom mourned the death of our noble leader. My life had evolved from the trivial to turmoil before my very eyes.

  “You are Zuran?” questioned another of the guards. He was rather shorter than the one who cuffed Venan, but he was equally as bulky, and his face was just as nasty.

  “Yes,” I replied, straightening my spine in lofty arrogance.

  A leer flit across his lips, and he crooked a finger at me. “You will be coming, too.”

  Chapter Ten

  Phoebe

  The room I was brought to was painfully dark, darker even in the desert outside for the lack of stars and moonlight. A single torch burned in the corner, but it offered little relief from the blindness. I was alone, and I had no clue where I was.

  The A’li-uud who had brought me here had done so in a way I had never even imagined possible. He had taken me by both arms and jumped into the air, and the next thing I knew, I was flying. I could feel the wind burning my face, and its roar was deafening in my ears. The cool night air felt icy at the speed with which we flew. I had been terrified. I didn't know if the A’li-uud planned to drop me from an accountable number of miles above to the sandy floor below.

  Thankfully, he didn't. He seemed to have no bad intentions, though he was severely lacking in communication. When we landed, every muscle in my body felt weak and shaky, and I could hardly stand on my own. He continued to hold onto my arms to support me, even though I tried to shake him off in my disorientation. My eyes felt like they were spinning in my head, and I was unable to clearly see anything before me. It was as if I was underwater. My vision was blurry, and while I was able to make out the outline of a large, rectangular building made for once of something other than clay, I was unable to decipher any of its details.

  He took me inside and brought me to the room where I now sat without explanation. He had left again, and the only thing he had said was, “I will return shortly.”

  Frankly, I wasn't sure if I wanted to wait.

  Why had I gone with him willingly in the first place, I didn't know. It seemed like common sense. As a kid, I was taught about stranger danger and never to accept a ride from someone I didn’t know. Yet, somehow, on an alien planet with a native race I was only somewhat familiar with, I had done exactly that. And now, here I was, in a dark room in some forsaken place without an inkling as to what was going to happen next.

  The A’li-uud did return shortly as promised, however, and with him was Dr. Griep. He led the doctor to one of the available seats, of which I had counted twenty-two in his absence, and departed again with the same phrase: “I will return shortly.”

  Dr. Griep stared at me across the table. The torchlight was barely bright enough for me to discern his features, but his uncertainty was evident in the wavering of his voice. “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “That A’li-uud just showed up at my hut and brought me here. He didn’t say anything about why. Did you fly?”

  “Yes,” said the doctor with displeasure. “I’ve never had motion sickness before, but I feel pretty sick now.”

  I didn't respond, not sure of how to respond and not sure I had anything of value to say. Dr. Griep didn't seem to mind. The apprehension between us was so tangible that I think both of us preferred to focus on our own thoughts than the musings of the other.

  Again, the A’li-uud came back, this time with Antoinette. She asked the same question as the doctor before her, but, still, I had no answers. Again and again, the flying A’li-uud brought nurses and doctors from the Dhal’atian colony’s infirmary until there were only fourteen chairs available. I expected him to continue disappearing Into the Night and returning with another of my coworkers until every chair was occupied, but it became clear that was not his intention when the eighth member of our staff was led to a seat, and he rounded the table to sit himself at the head. Uncomfortable quiet filled the room, though the same wonderings lingered and the eyes of everyone around me. Finally, Dr. Griep spoke.

  “Why did you bring us here?” he asked nervously.

  The A’li-uud turned to him with a grave expression. “You will find out soon enough,” he said.

  My fear had dissipated in the presence of the people I worked with every day, but in its place came irritation and frustration. The day had already been long, terrible, and too much for anyone to handle. The last thing I wanted, or needed, was to be brought to a mysterious location for a mysterious reason and to sit with an A’li-uud who would only tell us to wait for information. I glared.

  “I think we deserve to know now,” I said firmly.

  Several eyes turned to me, and I could see the surprise in the faces around me. It was not in my nature to be snappish and rude, but I had had enough. To have a prominent member of my new society die under my care had rendered me exhausted, and when I was exhausted, I had no patience.

  Though my co-workers were clearly startled and perhaps a little frightened of my mild outburst, the A’li-uud seemed far from perturbed. He rested his elbows on the tabletop and formed his fingers into a steeple beneath his chin, allowing the sleeves of his robes to fall down the length of his forearms. I had noticed he was wearing robes when he first arrived on my doorstep, but it had not occurred to me until now that this likely was another Elder. After all, the only A’li-uud I had ever observed wearing robes was Kharid, and it stood to reason robes were the wardrobe of Elders across the planet. I didn’t want to make assumptions, though, so I asked outright.

  “Who are you?”

  His pale eyes were locked onto me as if he had never seen anything so fascinating, and he tilted his head slightly. A stream of silver hair cascaded from one side to the other, brushing his right shoulder. After a few moments of silent consideration, he obliged me.

  “My name is Sevani,” he said. He spoke coolly like he was doing me a favor in answering the question at all. “I am Elder to the kingdom of Pentaba.”


  “Pentaba?” Antoinette interjected with interest. She leaned forward in her seat. In the flickering torchlight, her face appeared even more oblong and horse-like than usual. “Isn’t that where the Novai colonies are?”

  I shot her a rude look, but she didn’t notice. The last thing I wanted to think about right now was the Novai. Sevani, however, nodded.

  The door to the blackened room opened, but little light flooded in as a crowd of A’li-uud filed over the threshold. I recognized Zuran amongst them at once, and uninvited relief billowed through me. I had been wondering how he was doing after seeing something as awful as his Elder dying on the floor in front of him.

  Judging by his expression, he was not doing well. He looked exhausted. His eyes were hooded and dark despite their whiteness, and, though his shoulders were still held squarely in his typical egotistical fashion, there was a slump in his posture that hadn’t been present earlier. Again, I wanted to speak to him and offer my condolences, but I just sat back in my chair silently.

  When everyone was seated, there wasn’t a single empty chair around the table. Sevani looked around, meeting each of our eyes in turn, before speaking. When he did, he rose to his feet in a grandiose gesture of power, and I suddenly realized how intimidating this Elder was, especially in comparison to Kharid’s sociable and likable nature. I waited breathlessly for him to address us.

  “I apologize for your impromptu summoning,” he began. “It seems, however, we have been met with unexpected circumstances that make the reason for this summons all the more dire.”

  Not a breath could be heard, not even the hiss and fizzle of the flames dancing atop the single torch in the corner. Every iota of attention in that room was upon Sevani. He didn’t pause.

  “I think it best if I begin by simply telling you why you have been brought here, and to go into greater detail after,” he said. “The Novai colonists have become ill as of late. It is the belief of my healers that they have contracted a disease that is causing a mutation in their genetic structure, resulting in physical, mental, and behavioral changes. None of those afflicted thus far have perished yet, but we are still in the early stages of monitoring the disease and are unable to compile data regarding mortality rates.”

  My chest tightened. This was probably why we’d been asked to the palace earlier, why the Novai had been there at all, let alone attacked us. We were being recruited.

  “I do not wish to place anyone in harm’s way,” Sevani went on, “but it is imperative this disease is eradicated immediately to avoid exposure to A’li-uud and humans. To do so, the Council has agreed to assemble research and treatment teams across Albaterra to find a diagnosis and cure as quickly as possible. Elder Kharid intended for the Dhal’atian team to be a group of volunteers willing to participate in this critical task; given his sudden passing, however, the privilege of volunteering has been eliminated. Congratulations. You have been chosen to make history and save the future.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Zuran

  Sevani’s voice was barely more than a dull hum in my ears. I had gone numb to emotion and reason, cognizant only of the present down to the very millisecond. In fact, the only thing in the room of which I was acutely aware was the blonde beauty at the far end of the table. She was listening to the Elder speak with attentiveness, but there was distress on her lovely features. I did not blame her in the slightest. To do what one could to save a life and to fail would be trying for even the toughest of individuals, and I had seen in those few moments beside Kharid that she truly cared for his fate. I sympathized with her.

  “This will be your new home.” Sevani’s words ripped my attention from Phoebe, and I started with disbelief. Mutters of displeasure and incomprehension circled the table, and several expressions became angry. Sevani was not deterred in the least. He stretched his arms outward to the walls on either side and continued, “Several Novai patients will be brought here for your observation and care. There are residential quarters on the south side, and laboratories and examination rooms on the west. A morgue has also been constructed in the northwest corner in the event one or more of your patients should perish. Food shall be delivered daily, though you will be responsible for cooking your own meals.”

  “What about our things?” one of the human nurses called out. I recognized her, both from the incident at the palace and around the colony. “Clothes and keepsakes and stuff?”

  “Any items of necessity will either be delivered within a week's time or provided by Dhal’at,” Sevani answered. “I assure you, your well-being during your service will be closely monitored and tended.”

  I smirked. It mattered not how Sevani glorified the task we were assigned; it was still a gruesome, dangerous responsibility with a real likelihood that everyone around this table now would fall victim to the Novain disease. Yet, I felt no fear. In fact, I was exhilarated, excited. Why I was included amongst medical professionals, healers and doctors and nurses alike, as part of the team charged with finding a cure for a disease nobody knew existed was unbeknownst to me. However, it seemed like the ideal chance to acquire evidence in favor of my brother that proved he acted with justified defense, and that Kharid’s death was truly an accident.

  “The Council will be around in a few days to give you further information,” Sevani said. “You need not expect Novai to arrive for at least a week. In that time, I suggest you become comfortable with your new residence and think of any questions you may have for the Council.”

  With that, he inclined his head to those around the table, myself included, and then he swept from the room without further word. Silence fell in his wake. Glances were exchanged from one person to another, some worried and others angry, but all appeared equally confused. I, miraculously, was not confused. While I understood very little about medical science, I certainly understood the benefits to my brother in my being here.

  Phoebe, at the opposite end of the table, was wearing the exact same expression as everyone else. She met my eyes, and I felt a warmth spread through me. Though the lighting was dim, I saw her smile slightly. The warmth grew to a soothing heat, boiling first in my belly before spreading upward to my fingertips. She was so beautiful that, even after having such a chaotic day, I found myself enchanted by her. In that split second, it occurred to me that there was another benefit of being assigned to the team.

  I would be living with Phoebe.

  Had this never arisen, had the Novi never contracted the strange disease, I still would have had the opportunity to get to know her. Being that I was the Interplanetary Affairs Officer, I frequented the colony on a daily basis. It was not unusual for me to wander through the streets speaking with the colonists, nor was it unusual for me to stop into the infirmary and ensure that everything was running smoothly and they had plenty of supplies. I would have been able to approach her easily. However, this was an opportunity presented to me on a platter. In a room of eight humans and thirteen A’li-uud, becoming acquainted with her was now not only a desire but an obligation.

  It was an obligation I was pleased to have.

  A wink of flame caught her malachite iris, and, for a moment, I was unable to read her expression. Humans’ sight was not nearly as well-developed and sensitive as A’li-uud, and I was certain she could not clearly see me, but I flipped my gaze away briefly to avoid staring too boldly. When I no longer felt her stare upon me, I allowed myself to resume studying her. The flame that had flashed in her eye was no longer present as one of the humans opposite her had shifted and doused her in shadow, but my view of her was not impeded. Her expression was readable again. Her mouth, that lovely, plump mouth, was turned down slightly, and her cheeks were concave as she sucked them in. I saw a small bulge where her tongue dragged from one side to the other. She was visibly anxious, even bouncing in her seat just enough to send her tresses into a gently swaying dance. I wanted to know what was on her mind, if she was frightened of the Novain disease or worried about failing the critical task at hand. I wonder
ed if she felt this could be her chance for redemption after this afternoon.

  These were not questions I could ask, however. Though I was not one to bend to the notions of social propriety, there were limits even I had to honor. And, if I was to be honest with myself, I did not wish to offend her. Disregarding my physical attraction to her, Phoebe had shown herself to be quite possibly the most compassionate being I had ever encountered—save for my mother, of course. While her healer counterparts cowered in the corner after the Novai attack, she thought nothing of herself and leaped into action to do everything she could to save my honorable Elder from an imminent demise. I had only witnessed an act of such selfless purpose once before, and it had been from Kharid himself when an impish Ka’lik-et child scaled a palace wall on a dare and nearly fell to his death.

  The newly-established team members and I remained seated around the table for several long minutes in silence before one of the humans, the doctor who had insisted on remaining behind in the infirmary earlier when I had been ordered to summon the colonist healers, said uncertainly, “Should we get settled, then?”

  There were mumblings of agreement, and chairs scraped against tile floor as everyone rose to their feet. I stood as well, but I was unable to tear my eyes from Phoebe. She lifted her arms over her head and stretched so vigorously her top rode up slightly, revealing the smooth curve of her lovesome waist. I inhaled so sharply in response that the A’li-uud nearest me, a healer decades my senior I knew only by name, Petas, turned around in surprise. I pretended to cough to cover my display, and he returned to forward-facing as, one-by-one, we filed from the room.

  This day had been one of nightmares, but striding quietly behind Phoebe sparked a whisper of faith within me I had long lacked. Perhaps the Grand Circle had finally dipped its hand into the course of my life.