Dissolution

by Kyle West

  “I’ll bite,” Pallos said. “I think you were discussing how to defend the Xenofold from Shen in the event of the Hyperfold’s destruction. Because, obviously, Shen wants to destroy the Xenofold and rescue the people that are tethered to it.”

  “You mean, Elekai,” I said.

  “Yes. Elekai. Anyway, am I close to the mark?”

  I debated whether to hide the truth from him, but in the end, I confirmed what he asked. “The Nameless One told me that Shen’s eventual goal is total control over humanity. He sees the Xenofold as a rival, and he wants it gone. The problem is that the Xenofold is the very thing that keeps us safe from the Radaskim; if it didn’t exist, then Shen would have to find a way of defending the world from the Radaskim without it.”

  “For that reason,” Pallos said, “Shen will never threaten the Xenofold.”

  “At least until he thinks he’s figured out how to defend the world without it.”

  To this, Pallos made no response.

  I pressed on. “If Shen isn’t willing to live and let live, then there will be conflict. This is assuming we even survive the second Xenofall. Perhaps not for years and years – perhaps not until I’ve been dead for a century. But so long as the Xenofold is threatened, either by the Radaskim or by Shen, then my job isn’t finished. If there isn’t any room for us Elekai, then there isn’t room for Shen either. Odium and the Radaskim don’t want to live with either.” Pallos had no response for his. “As far as Shen goes, I don’t believe he can defend the world against the Radaskim without the Xenofold’s help, even if this is what he wants. And I don’t think he has any reliable way of controlling the Xenofold, either.”

  “No,” Pallos agreed. “He doesn’t. However, a formal alliance between you and Shen will do much to advance things in your favor.”

  The thought was startling, and I couldn’t hide my shock. Such an “alliance” would be lopsided, as Shen’s forces were far stronger than mine ever would be. That, of course, meant he would dictate the terms. And that was unacceptable.

  “Impossible,” I said. “Our end goals are different, and he would find a way of maneuvering me to do what he wants.”

  “Shen is as interested in your success as you are,” Pallos said. “Was is not Shen who gave you your prophecy? Without that, you would have never known to go to the Nameless One in the first place. His supposed archenemy.”

  That part did seem rather strange. According to the Nameless One, Shen was his chief rival. I felt like a pawn caught between two gods. I had to choose one or the other.

  “If Shen cares about this world as much as you say he does, then he’ll help me without the need for a formal alliance,” I said. “He will act on his own.”

  “Yes,” Pallos said. “But isn’t it better to know what his moves will be in advance? And don’t you think he’s capable of achieving his goals without your help? It’s far more prudent to cooperate with a giant than to run about on your own, blind. You might find yourself crushed underfoot.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “No,” Pallos said. “It’s history. Many people have tried to resist Shen. It didn’t go well for them. Granted, the Elekai are a unique challenge, even for Shen . . . especially given the very real threat of the coming invasion. All the same, Shen has never lost. The Elekai have lost every time but one, if what you’ve told me is to be believed.”

  I felt the comparison was unfair. The Elekai had lost every planet to the Radaskim except for Earth, but the Elekai’s fight against the Radaskim was different compared the Elekai’s conflict with Shen. I left that point unsaid, however.

  “Well, I’m glad to know who’s side you’re on,” I said.

  “I am on your side,” Pallos said. “Just not the way you want me to be.”

  “A diplomatic answer.”

  Pallos nodded, even giving a small bow, as if conceding my point.

  I kept thinking of Pallos’ comparison, that I was just a person against a giant. In fact, it felt more like I was a fly against a giant. We had faced something similar during the Ragnarok War, our little band trying to save the world while the empire led by Augustus had a competing vision for life after the war. In the end, once the war was over, his empire had assumed control of the Wasteland, just as he had promised, despite all of our protests.

  It had worked, for a while, but the rest was bloody history. I was afraid of the same thing happening again.

  Or rather, Anna was, because it wasn’t just my own fear I felt, but hers. She had just wanted a world that was safe for herself and her children, and free of interlopers, whether that was a Radaskim Xenomind or a superintelligent AI.

  Despite all his power, though, even Emperor Augustus couldn’t find a way to deal with the Xenofold, and in the end, the Xenofold ended up winning that battle, surviving long after his empire had crumbled to ruins, only to be resurrected at least two times throughout the centuries by foreign invaders.

  But there was a third possibility. Perhaps the Xenofold could save itself from both Shen and the Radaskim . . . that was, if we found a way to dissolve the Hyperfold once and for all.

  The problem was, however, that I had too little information, and I didn’t know the right way to go.

  “I’ll keep what you’ve said in mind,” I said. “Perhaps Shen is a friend. I doubt it, but I won’t exclude the possibility.”

  Pallos nodded gratefully. “That’s all I ask. I think if you consider what I’ve said with an open mind, maybe there’s a solution that can keep everyone happy.”

  The words were empty to me, and once again, diplomatic.

  I turned on the intercom. “All of you can come back in. It won’t be long before we’ve arrived.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  WE KEPT WIDE OF HAVEN and Annajen lands, not wanting our passage to be noticed by Isaru. We flew so high that it would have been impossible to see us. It wasn’t just people we had to be worried about, though. Dragons were likely keeping an eye out above as well as below, if Isaru knew we had left Ragnarok Crater.

  Once we were close and we deemed it safe, we began our descent. On our left, the Red Mountains ran from north to south, its western flank lined with foothills, ridges, and thick forest. West of the mountains lay the wide and flat Xenoplain, stretching for hundreds of miles and taking up almost all the land between Haven and Sylva. This rich land was home to countless towns, hamlets, and smaller cities, and though I had never traveled there personally, I knew it was the most populous part of the Red Wild.

  Though it was called the Xenoplain, there were still plenty of low, rolling hills, along with blue lakes and silver streams, pockmarked with small forests with trees both vibrantly red and deep-set green, all against the paler pink background of the xen. Stone roads and highways crisscrossed the landscape, and where the land wasn’t taken up by forest or field, an abundance of crops grew, a yellow and green patchwork against a red tapestry.

  The Xenoplain was the breadbasket of the Wild; while the Northern Wild had plenty of game to hunt, most of the crops were grown here and exported to the rest of the Wild. The Xenoplain was central to the economics, and control, of the Red Wild.

  My parents had only purchased a very small part of it, in the foothills of the Red Mountains in the Xenoplain’s extreme southeast, lying firmly on the border of Makai and Annajen lands. While that put us far from Isaru and Haven, there were still plenty of local Elekai lords that counted Isaru as their suzerain, and most had given Isaru oaths of fealty by now.

  Soon, I’d be seeing everything for myself.

  * * *

  My first sight of the land purchased in my name revealed a territory that was largely forested, as Pallos had previously mentioned. Several streams ran down from the nearby mountains, joining into a river that, Pallos said, eventually fed into the Colorado just south of Haven. Within the rivers were woods filled with ample clearings, along with simple wood homes and farms. These lands were definitely not as densely populated as the others we’d flown over, thou
gh Kalear itself was a decently sized town of a few thousand.

  My first sight of Kalear, on top of a high hill right before the mountains, reminded me very much of Northold. The wall was of wood, and at the highest point of the hill was a stone keep surrounded by a square stone wall, against the backdrop of the red-tinted mountains. The town’s wooden outer defenses were probably meant to keep out only smaller forces, while the castle itself, the Stronghold, could stand up to a siege much longer.

  “Kalear was named after some Annajen lord from long ago,” Pallos explained. “The land and titles passed out of the Annajen family, and has switched many times since. The lands were confiscated from Lord Black by King Taris for his recent insurrection, and when he was put to the sword, the lands and titles passed into your name, as you well know.” Pallos gave an ironic smile.

  “Though few know it, Kalear has actually returned to Annajen possession, seeing as you are the beginning of their line.”

  As I listened, we drew closer to the Stronghold itself, a stone fortress, square in shape with low, thick walls. Four square towers stood on each of its corners. It was plain, smaller than the Sanctum, but sturdy-looking. Rising directly behind the Stronghold were the first of the foothills of the southern reach of the Red Mountains.

  “The Stronghold guards the Iron Pass,” Pallos reminded me. “Of course, Mongar and Highgrove are more important cities, guarding the more important East Road. Kalear was larger and more important in earlier times, before the first Mindless Wars, when the Pilgrimage Road was the only way north from Sylva to Hyperborea. Back then, from what I’ve learned, the road actually passed through here. They call that road the Old Road, now.”

  “That hasn’t been the case since the new road was made after the wars,” Isa said. “Kalear no longer holds the strategic importance it once did.”

  I let Pallos take the captain’s seat, since he knew where to land. Once I was sitting in the copilot’s seat, Pallos directed Odin toward the Stronghold’s inner courtyard.

  “Are my parents down there now?” I asked.

  Pallos nodded. “Yes, they’ve taken up quarters in the keep. You’ll be seeing them soon.”

  “All of this is unreal,” Shara said. “An entire kingdom to your name!”

  “Well, perhaps they should call it a queendom,” Isa said.

  “We’re not here to play at lords and ladies,” Fiona said. “People have chosen to come here because they don’t believe in Isaru’s way of running things. They are looking for a leader. A strong leader.”

  “I think Shanti’s up to the task.”

  Well, at least one of us believed that.

  “Of course,” Fiona said. “My point is, many who are here risked their lives to be here. While some may only want food and shelter, many have come because they’ve heard about what Isaru was offering, but didn’t like it. We can’t run things the way he does. Though I haven’t read the Prophecy of Annara myself, I’m sure it doesn’t say anything about Anna coming back to rule the world or to be anyone’s queen.”

  “Anna is . . .” I paused to reconsider my words. What did Anna want? Though she had talked to me earlier, she was still being strangely quiet. “Anna was only interested in stopping the Radaskim. Whatever this is, kingdom or queendom are not the right words. Maybe it’s more like a resistance: a resistance to Isaru’s way of running things.”

  “I like that,” Shara said. “But calling ourselves a resistance just makes it seem like we’re rebels against a rightful king. Isaru is no better than an usurper.”

  “And it means nothing if he crushes us with his army of dragons,” Fiona said.

  “The castle is equipped with a small supply of ballistae,” Pallos said. “Old, rusty things; probably from the last Mindless Wars. They were found in the cellars under some moth-eaten cloth. Anyhow, I repaired those as best as I could, and some of the soldiers here have even managed to hit a raiding Radaska. The dragon was probably Mindless; there seems to be an aerie of them in the nearby mountains.”

  “How many of these ballistae?” I asked. “You said a small supply.”

  “Err . . . three,” Pallos admitted. “But it’s not all bad news. In the last couple of months, I’ve perfected a design based off the ones we found. Even improved upon it as a project. I’ve instructed Kalear’s smiths and fletchers on how to make them. There are plenty of yews for the cutting in the forests, and all the other parts can be found nearby. The Stronghold has a hot forge and master smith who knows his craft well, who said my designs were simple enough and that it would only be a matter of time.”

  “How much time?” I asked.

  “Well, the raw materials must be gathered . . . trees felled, iron ore smelted and placed into the proper molds . . . manpower is the main issue. A prototype is nearly completed, and once done, the rest will come off the line much more quickly. I plan on integrating some Shen production techniques to increase efficiency. There are many arts that have been lost to time and history. I can at least implement some rudimentary assembly lines that will allow the Stronghold to challenge a direct attack by dragons.”

  Pallos stopped talking as he concentrated on the landing; we were now directly over the castle courtyard. My heart gave a flutter at the thought that, within minutes, I would be seeing my parents.

  CHAPTER SIX

  ODIN TOUCHED DOWN LIGHTLY IN the Stronghold’s courtyard, which was filled with stone buildings, out of each of which poured smoke that was quickly lost to the bright blue sky. Above the Stronghold’s eastern wall, the Red Mountains towered, their top halves covered in white snow. The pass had to lie between the two big ones that dwarfed the castle that guarded it.

  Odin was centuries out of place here.

  In front of the keep, I could see an assembly of Sphere Priests at their training, each paired with another and crossing blunted practice swords. They didn’t so much as pause at Odin’s landing, such was their discipline. It was hard to judge just how many there were, but my guess was well over a hundred. They were the true Seekers, the ones who had remembered their original purpose to guard both Anna and her prophecy.

  “That’s a lot of fighters,” Shara said, impressed.

  A lot, I thought, but is it enough? “Let’s go out to meet them.”

  Pallos unstrapped himself from beside me. “They train like that twice a day, at least two hours at a stretch. I’ve never seen more skilled fighters. They probably rival the Seekers’ Champions.”

  There would be time to determine their skills later. “Where are my parents?”

  “In the keep, no doubt,” Pallos said. “I can take you there.”

  “And I should be joining my brothers for training,” High Priest Markas said. “Even an old man has to keep himself sharp.”

  I nodded. “Come find me once you’re done.” I turned to the others. “Let’s move.”

  I left the ship and entered the crisp, cool air, followed by the others: Pallos, Fiona, Shara, and Isa. All of us had cleaned up and eaten, and all wore new clothes found in the ship’s stores. We were as fresh as we were going to be for the moment, until we had the chance to have a decent rest.

  The air was sharp with cold, and the air fragrant with earth, leaves, and smoke. Autumn leaves tumbled down from the few tall apple trees that grew in the courtyard, along with the leaves of oak and maple. The trees lent the courtyard a beauty that spoke of more peaceful times, when trees growing in a castle courtyard had not been considered an impediment or fire hazard.

  The ground was bare dirt, worn down by countless thousands of feet. Martial shouts filled the air from the direction of the priests’ training. As I walked toward the Stronghold’s keep, I watched their synchronous movements. Each man could have been a copy of the other, following the same sequence of Windform. None so much as broke their attention as we passed by. To my surprise, I recognized a few of the boys I’d met back at the Sphere, though none of them spared me a glance.

  The keep’s doors were wide open, its interior li
t by blazing sconces. I could feel their heat as we stepped out of the cold air and up the stone steps leading deeper into the keep. The steps opened into a wide hall, filled with four rows of tables perpendicular to the heavy oak doors. On a far dais was a high table which was being readied for the evening meal by an army of servants. There was no sign of my parents.

  “They may be upstairs,” Pallos said.

  “Did they not hear us land?” Shara asked.

  “No doubt they did,” Pallos said. “However, this ship has landed here almost every day for two months, each time with no news. They are likely talking to someone or other upstairs – even managing a land as small as Kalear, there is plenty to do.”

  We took Pallos’ word for it, and followed him up some wooden stairs built along the Great Hall’s southward wall. Soon, we reached a second floor of thick wood that led into a corridor lined with heavy wooden doors. We passed servants dressed in woolens whose eyes widened upon seeing us – they had to know who we were, but they didn’t so much as raise a voice in greeting.

  “A bit shy, aren’t they?” Isa asked.

  “Most people who work here come from humble origins,” Pallos said. “Many are refugees from the north.”

  Pallos stopped the next passing servant, asking if she knew where the Lady Naomi was. Just hearing my mother’s name filled me with happiness and the realization that I would be seeing her soon.

  The servant led the way, stopping before the last door on the right, where Pallos knocked.

  “Give my mother and I a moment, please,” I said.

  “Of course,” Fiona said. “Pallos can find something to keep us busy.”

  “A tour of the castle grounds, perhaps,” he said.

  As he led the way, the door was opened, revealing a woman who was not my mother at all. “Yes, do you have business with the Lady Naomi?”