The Chronicles of William Wilde Boxset 1

by Davis Ashura

  William Wilde stared off in the distance and imagined how to make his Fire burn hotter. If he added a thread of Air to coil around . . .

  He started when Serena gave him a gentle shove, and he glanced her way in confusion. “What?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past five minutes,” she said. “What do you plan on doing for New Year’s Eve?”

  William blinked in uncertainty. His mind had been elsewhere, and he hadn’t heard her question at first.

  Serena rolled her eyes, her demeanor clearly one of annoyance.

  William shifted beneath her gaze. “Sorry. I was thinking about—”

  “Training for Shet and Seminal?”

  William eyes narrowed. “You were the one who said we needed to focus on him,” he said to her. “We aren’t done with him yet, remember?”

  Serena had spoken to him about it a few months ago, about how they had to stop Shet from entering their world before anything else could happen, including between them. And with every passing day, William’s worries about the god of the mahavans increased. How will we stop Shet?

  “I know, and I agree,” Serena said, interrupting his worries, “but don’t you think you should live some? Enjoy the beautiful day and the people you’re with.” She gestured about them.

  The late-day sun shot bars of golden light through bands of cumulus clouds, lighting parts of the Village Green, the heart of Lilith and the only village upon Arylyn. Nearby, a jazz band played a languid tune from within the centrally-placed gazebo, and the perfumed scent of gardenias drifted on the breeze as a small crowd gathered to listen to the music. Beyond the gazebo, William caught sight of Selene and her friends, no doubt heading for an after-school treat at Maxine’s Ice Creamery, the finest and only ice cream parlor in Lilith. Like most of the island’s restaurants and stores, it stood upon Clifftop, the village’s industrial core.

  William took in their surroundings and tried to set aside his irritation with Serena. She’d been the one who’d gone on and on about needing to put aside personal desires and train for Shet. Now she expects me to enjoy the day with her? He suppressed a grimace.

  “Why don’t we get something to drink?” Serena suggested, apparently not picking up on his annoyance.

  On again, off again with her. He mentally sighed. So be it. William managed a smile and indicated for Serena to lead on.

  William wanted to take Serena’s hand as they walked toward Maxine’s but he held back. Work and worry kept them apart. He guessed that’s how Serena wanted it so he never spoke of how he sometimes thought about her. He feared her response. As a result, he remained quiet as they ambled past long, narrow buildings made of brick, stone, or a combination of the two. Other people were out and about, shopping or taking a stroll. William called out loud ‘hellos’ to most of them, while Serena was more reserved in her greetings.

  A few minutes later, they reached their destination: Maxine’s Ice Creamery.

  Selene and a few of her friends—Emma Lake and Janine Dale—were already on their way out the door. All of them clutched waffle cones heaped to overflowing with ice cream.

  “We’re going for a hike through Janaki Valley,” Selene said. The young girl was a mirror image of her older sister, almost the same height and with a promise of beauty once she grew into her gangly frame.

  Serena laughed. “Have fun.”

  “See you later.” Selene and her friends clomped off in a wild show of girlish giggles and squealing laughter.

  William and Serena entered the ice cream parlor. It was cool inside, brightly lit and smelling of chocolate, vanilla, and melted sugar. Maxine waited behind the counter. She was an elderly, bespectacled woman with sparkling, lively eyes and a generous manner. Everyone loved her.

  “Can we have two lemonades?” William asked.

  “Of course, dears,” Maxine said. She drew the drinks from a wooden keg, filling two mugs and passing them over. “If you add a touch of Air, it changes the flavor from lemonade to cider.” She didn’t need to remind them, but she always did. “Add Fire for orange juice and Earth if you want soda.”

  William chose Earth since he loved a good soda. He sensed Serena source her lorethasra when a touch of mint floated on the air. The rustling of Earth indicated that she’d also gone for soda.

  “Thanks, Ms. Maxine,” they called as they left the ice creamery.

  William took a long drink of his soda before they set out. They wandered Lilith’s streets, bridges, and alleys, not really paying much attention to where they were going.

  A half-hour later, Serena squeezed his arm and pulled him to a halt. “I want to stop in here.” She pointed to Robert Weeks’ smithy and led William inside. The ringing of a hammer from out back could be heard, but there was no one to mind the front of the store.

  It didn’t matter. No one would steal anything. Crime hardly ever happened on Arylyn. Anyone could take most anything they wanted and tell the storeowner about it later. The island used no currency and people were expected to pay for what they needed with reciprocal labor of some kind.

  “Why are we here?” William asked.

  “No reason,” Serena answered. “Just browsing.”

  William caught the scent of roses, and he frowned, glancing about as he tried to figure out where it was coming from.

  Serena’s face brightened, and she drew his attention. “Look.” She pointed to a small figurine, a red dragon that flapped its wings, clomped forward a short distance, and breathed fire. Next to it rested a vase full of silver-stemmed, copper roses. They were the source of the floral scent filling the room. “Robert has such a delicate touch,” Serena said, sounding admiring.

  “Yes, he does,” William agreed in a wistful tone. He wished he had the time to learn smithing, but like everything else, he had to shove those dreams to the back burner. He had to train and become a better warrior. Maybe after Shet was dealt with, he could . . .

  He sighed as he realized the direction of his thoughts. Will I always have to defer my gratification?

  Serena studied him a moment. “Let’s go.” She gave his hand a squeeze, tugged him outside, and they headed back to the Village Green.

  “You never did answer me,” Serena said while they entered a shadowed alley. “What do you plan on doing for Western New Year’s? And don’t say ‘training.’ No one else will be.”

  William wasn’t so focused on Shet that he couldn’t set aside a single evening to give over to having fun. He also wasn’t stupid enough to discount Serena’s question. She’d asked him about this twice today, which meant it was important to her. “I’m not going to train,” he said. “I thought I might ask a former mahavan if she wanted to go with me.”

  “And maybe I’ll accept that offer from a certain drone,” Serena said, “but only if he ever figures out that a life perpetually deferred isn’t one worth living.”

  William scowled. Her advice seemed deeply unfair. “Weren’t you the one who said we had to study? It’s why we deferred—”

  “I know,” she interrupted, “and I still believe it, but sometimes you have to live for today. I realized that when we saw that movie last week during our visit to the Far Beyond, Dead Poet’s Society.”

  William recalled the movie. He’d loved it, especially its underlying message of carpe diem. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder how he could manage that with Shet looming over them.

  They continued their stroll in silence, passing from the coolness of the alley to the sunshine beaming down on the Village Green.

  This was William’s favorite setting in Arylyn. The Pacific Ocean surged far below while River Namaste split Lilith’s five cliffs and cascaded downward as a series of waterfalls. Rainbows bathed the village’s various terraces, bridges, and homes in a riot of colors. William knew without looking that the view directly northeast was dominated by Mount Madhava. To the northwest he’d find Sita’s Song, a broad road made of gray flagstones that cut a slender ribbon from Lilit
h, through the farms of Janaki Valley, and ended at the base of the mountain.

  “What do you think? Try to live for today?” Serena asked with a challenging lift to her eyebrows.

  William eyed her askance. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

  “I will when you see reason, and if you do, I’ll even save you a dance.”

  In that moment, William couldn’t speak. A summons blared in his heart. Something beckoned. Fury consumed him. It took the form of a snapping, snarling beast and burned his thoughts until nothing remained but unreasoning, red rage. His fists clenched, and a vision arose in his mind, a pale, hairless creature, as tall as Kohl Obsidian and with a mouth like a gangrenous wound.

  William stumbled, scared and off-balance as the vision faded. The rage receded into the depths of his mind, but he could still sense it, growling every now and then, low, throaty, and ready to leap forward.

  He also remembered an anger like this from another time. It had come from Kohl Obsidian when the necrosed had killed his parents and touched him. This felt similar but far more potent, like a roaring bonfire in place of a lit lantern. And that face . . .

  Serena frowned in concern. “William? What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know.”

  CHAPTER 5: PREPARATIONS AND DESIRES

  December 1989

  * * *

  Rukh flared his nostrils in irritation as the councilors continued their endless deliberations. He’d offered his case to them hours ago, and since then, they’d done nothing but argue endlessly about the merits of his presentation. Thus far, none of Lilith’s councilors had said anything of actual meaning. Instead, all they’d put forth was a useless recitation of points made earlier.

  He ground his teeth in impatience. By now, the sun lingered late in the sky. He knew it to be true despite the lack of windows in the Council Chamber. A Kumma could always tell the time, and politicians the worlds over did nothing but waste it. They loved speaking and hearing the glory of their useless voices.

  Rukh mentally grimaced. He hated politics.

  The others in the room—Jessira, Mr. Zeus, William, and Serena—must have sensed his agitation. They eyed him askance, stirring and shifting in their seats—the pews facing the rectangular table behind which sat the councilors. Serena even flicked a worried glance toward the single entrance leading into the drab, boring room.

  “I don’t think this is that hard a decision,” said Bar Duba, a large man with the dark skin and hair that proclaimed his lineage as being a native born to Arylyn. “Rukh only offers to instruct those who wish to be trained as part of a militia. Nothing more.” He faced Rukh. “Isn’t that correct?”

  Rukh nodded. “After the attack on Sinskrill, we need a military force to defend this island. The mahavans will respond, and Shet will follow on their heels. I think we all know that.”

  “I agree,” Mr. Zeus said.

  “You weren’t so sanguine about any of this a year ago,” Mayor Lilian Care said to Mr. Zeus in her aristocratic English accent.

  “As you said, that was a year ago,” Mr. Zeus replied as he stroked his long, white beard. “I’ve modified my opinion since then.”

  “This is old news,” blurted Zane Blood, an officious man with all the pomp and arrogance of a born bureaucrat. “All of these individuals . . .” he gestured at Rukh and the others, “. . . were intimately involved in that prior undertaking. Of course they urge further action now, but I have yet to see why we should allow it. These rumors about Shet are hearsay and nonsense, as are these unwarranted fears that Sinskrill will attack us.” His eyes widened in feigned amazement. “Exactly how will they achieve this miracle? They don’t even know the location of our island!”

  “They’ll know it if Shet tells them,” Serena said.

  Zane snorted in derision. “Shet.”

  “Yes, Shet,” William said, his voice edged in obvious anger.

  Rukh studied the youth with a worried frown. A few days ago William had started to become angry for the smallest of reasons.

  Zane chuckled in derision. “Shet is a myth.”

  “Think what you wish,” William replied. “We only want a chance to defend ourselves. That’s all we’re asking.”

  Zane harrumphed. “Young man, matters are not so simple.”

  “Why not?” William challenged.

  Rukh sighed as the conversation took a turn down a previously argued dead-end alley. He tuned it out.

  Even if the mahavans didn’t attack Arylyn, the magi had to return to Sinskrill. They had to go back and close the anchor line from Seminal. How else could they prevent Shet’s arrival on Earth? As Rukh reckoned matters, it was far better to defeat Sinskrill’s supposed god by avoiding him altogether than hoping to defeat him in face-to-face combat. Their chances at the latter would be vanishingly small given how difficult it had been to overcome Shet’s servant, the Servitor.

  When Rukh returned his attention to the discussion, he discovered that Break Foliage, a counselor and a rat-faced, rat-hearted man, was blathering on and on about prudence and cost.

  Prudence and cost. What cost? Arylyn used no currency so the only cost would be the time spent by the volunteers who chose to fight. As for prudence, was it not prudent to defend one’s home?

  Rukh silently snarled. He was a man of action, not of words, and right now, he imagined himself concussing Break and bringing the meeting to a close.

  Jessira noticed his anger, and she subtly shook her head. Patience her eyes urged.

  Rukh mentally snorted. Hot-blooded Jessira is telling me to be patient. Nevertheless, he took a settling breath, and tried to force his simmering anger to cool.

  It was of no use. Break continued to drone on, his words signifying nothing.

  Rukh had enough. He surged to his feet. “Be silent and make a decision.” He glared at Break Foliage. “Fight to live, or huddle like cowards and hope the hunting wolves overlook you.”

  Break gaped. “How dare you!” the little man shouted. “You are nothing but a late-come visitor who thinks to tell us how to live. If you’re to be believed, you’re not even from this world.”

  William rose to his feet as well. “Which is why you should listen to him. Rukh and Jessira come from a world called Arisa, a place none of us have ever heard of. If that’s real, then why can’t Seminal and Shet also be real?”

  Seema Choudary, a small, quiet Indian woman with a raspy voice, rapped her fist upon the table. “Young man, we understand your passion, but curtail your surety and think. What if you’re wrong?”

  “I’m not,” William said with a belligerent thrust of his jaw.

  “What if you are?” she pressed again. “We would panic the populace for no reason.” She held his attention. “You ask for far more than you realize.”

  “We are Lilith’s councilors,” Break Foliage puffed up in a self-important manner, “chosen by popular decree to uphold the laws of this land and ensure our survival. We will not lead our charges into blind panic based on wild stories without any basis in fact.”

  “You are Lilith’s councilors,” Rukh agreed, “and you are charged with ensuring our survival.” He leaned forward, knuckles braced upon the bench in front of him. “Then do your job and let me train people who will help us survive what’s coming. No one need panic over that.”

  “You want to do more than just train,” Lucas Shaw said in his slow, southern drawl. “You want to attack Sinskrill.”

  Jessira stood. “Yes,” she said, “because sometimes the best defense is a good offense. I would rather fight the mahavans on Sinskrill’s soil than on Arylyn’s.”

  “Only if they actually come,” Zane countered.

  “Which they will,” Mr. Zeus said.

  “We’re going nowhere with this,” Bar Duba rumbled.

  “In this, I think, we are all in accord,” Mayor Care said. “It is time we made a decision.”

  Rukh mumbled agreement and took a seat. William followed suit.

  “Moti
on to bring this interminable discussion to an end,” Bar said.

  “Seconded,” Seema announced.

  “All in favor?” Mayor Care asked.

  A unanimous voicing of ‘ayes’ met her query.

  Rukh stood again. This might be his last chance to sway the Council’s opinion, and while he’d never been good at politics and speeches—that had been his sister Bree’s forte—he had to make sure the councilors heard him. “Wait a moment before casting your final decision. Please. Remember, I only want to train whoever seeks instruction. Consider it my means of contributing to the island’s well-being. No one will be compelled. We only ask that you give them the opportunity to choose.”

  Mutters met his words, and for an instant, Rukh thought matters would descend once more into the long-winded discussion that had ended only moments earlier.

  “Motion to do as Rukh asks,” Bar said.

  “Second,” Seema agreed.

  “All in favor?” Mayor Care asked.

  The Mayor, Bar, Seema, and Lucas voted for the measure.

  “Against,” Mayor Care asked.

  Break and Zane voted in negation.

  “The motion carries,” Mayor Care announced.

  Rukh exhaled in relief.

  The mayor continued speaking. “Whoever wishes to learn from you will be allowed to.” She collected Rukh’s attention in a stern gaze. “Let me be clear, though. This does not give you license to invade Sinskrill.”

  Rukh nodded acceptance, but he’d already begun planning what to do next.

  * * *

  I hope you’ve enjoyed this sneak peek of William Wilde and the Sons of Deceit. Look for it to be released in November 2018!

  GLOSSARY

  ARYLYN

  * * *

  ARYLYN DRAMATIS PERSONAE

  * * *

  Afa (name means ‘storm’) Simon: He is originally from French Polynesia and came to Arylyn in 1856 when he was 33. By the time William arrives, age has left him stooped and weak, but he somehow still maintains the lush gardens around his home. He is also the most creative raha’asra on Arylyn.