Savant & Feral (Digital Boxed Set): Books 1 and 2 of the Epic Luminether Fantasy Series

by Richard Denoncourt

  Kovax turned and headed toward his personal chambers, strategizing the entire way. He couldn’t use a sightstone to find those children. Thus far, that method had proven useless. He would have to get someone to find them the hard way, with good, old-fashioned torture and intimidation.

  He knew just the right man for the job.

  CHAPTER 29

  T he carriage landed in the human realm—home, sweet home, Milo thought cynically—as the sun peeked its brilliant head above the horizon. Except for the gusting of a cold morning wind, the countryside was dead silent.

  Milo went to where his father had died, and suddenly stopped. Tears welled.

  “No,” he said.

  They had torn his father’s tree from the earth, leaving nothing but a gaping, brown hole.

  Emma covered her mouth. She turned and bent over as her stomach cramped. Milo held her and made shushing sounds to calm her down. He tried to stop his own tears from flowing but couldn’t.

  Ascher was at their side a moment later.

  “I’m sorry, kids. No one should have to see something like this.”

  Ascher’s men landed in a separate carriage. They searched the ground for the beacon crystal. One of them shouted, “Here!” Milo ignored him. He pictured Kovax supervising a group of Berserkers as they pulled his father from the ground, roots and all.

  A soldier handed Ascher the beacon crystal. He turned it in his fingers, studying it before handing it to Milo. Then he lowered himself onto one knee and put his hands on the twins’ shoulders.

  “I don’t know what to tell you,” he said, “other than this: don’t lose hope and don’t give in to the anger you must be feeling. Your father was a hero of legend. He knew what he was doing. He made many sacrifices to keep the two of you safe, and so did your mother. She doesn’t want you to come after her. She would rather have you”—he looked at Milo—“take care of your sister and stay out of harm’s way. She would rather have you survive this ordeal than risk everything and die.”

  Milo avoided looking into Ascher’s eyes. He wanted to push the man’s hand off his shoulder and tell him he was wrong, wrong about hiding and surviving. They had to fight back, had to rescue their mother from torture.

  “Right now, the war with the rebels is at a standstill. It’ll be a few years before anything changes. In that time, you should learn how to use your powers.” Ascher took his hands off their shoulders and rose. “Both of your parents were demigods, and so are the two of you—half human and half god. You could be more powerful than any of the Godkin on Astros. Someday, you could be more powerful than your parents ever were. Do you understand what this means?”

  Milo looked down at his feet. Emma lifted her face and gave Ascher a stern look.

  “It means we can’t run forever,” she said.

  Ascher nodded and looked at the beacon crystal Milo held in a tight grip.

  “Whatever happens,” he said, “one of you should have that crystal on you at all times. Don’t leave the house without it. As long as one of you keeps it safe and charged, both of you will be protected by its magic. Without it, the emperor’s low mages will use sightstones to seek you out.”

  Milo looked up at Ascher. “What about the magician at the ranch?”

  “We’ll strengthen our patrols and defenses just in case.” Ascher turned and observed his men and the carriage. “But something tells me he’s not out to harm anyone. If that was true, he would have done it already. Come on, let’s get going.”

  He started toward the carriage, looking like a walking tent in his multicolored cloak.

  “He’s lying about the magician,” Emma told Milo as they followed. “He has an idea who he is, but he doesn’t think it’s a good idea to tell us yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know, but he’s just as afraid as we are.”

  CHAPTER 30

  M ilo had been sitting by his bedroom window, looking out at the darkened countryside by candlelight, barely able to see anything as the flame twisted and jumped in the glass, when a knock sounded at his door.

  It had been three weeks since his trip back to the human realm to find the beacon crystal, and still he couldn’t bring himself to stop picturing the gash his father’s tree had left in the earth, or to stop fantasizing about the pain he would someday inflict on the men responsible for the harm done to his family. Lately, he’d been thinking way too much about revenge.

  “Who is it?” he said.

  A high-pitched, girly voice. “It’s Lily. I just came to say that I know you’re in love with me, and that’s okay ’cause I looove you, too!”

  Milo rolled his eyes and turned back to the window. “Come in, Emma.”

  Emma skipped into his bedroom, wearing a thick sweatshirt over her pajamas.

  “Was it a dream?” he said, turning to her. She’d been having troubling dreams since arriving, many of which involved watching her mother get stabbed with one of those smoke-dripping black blades. That wasn’t the case with Milo; in his dreams, he walked through fire, endless rows of fire, without ever burning up. He loved his dreams.

  Emma stepped into the candlelight. She was not upset or scared, not tonight. Instead, she was smiling like a kid on Christmas morning.

  “Milo, you have to come,” she said. “Please don’t say no.”

  He shook his head firmly. “Can’t tonight.”

  “But why not? You’ve barely spoken to anyone in weeks.” She inspected the piles of books lying around his room. “All you do is read these—these manuals on magic.”

  “Ascher’s been shipping them in by carriage,” Milo said, sliding off his chair and stepping over the open books on the floor. “You won’t believe some of this stuff. Like, there were these Savant Sorcerers called ‘Cyrens’ that haven’t existed in thousands of years, and they used to blind themselves to connect with the elements on a deeper level, and they used things like wind and heat and water to see their surroundings, and—and they used retractable swords made out of Tiberian Steel that they would charge with magic and light on fire and stuff…”

  Emma looked bored.

  “And then there’s this whole branch of magic called Necromancy where you can raise the dead, and the International Council of Magical Schools made it illegal to teach like four thousand years ago, and then there’s the…”

  “Eww,” Emma said, crinkling her nose. “Milo, don’t tell me you’re thinking about raising…”

  “No, of course not.” He shook his head. “I’m just saying…”

  “Just checking.” Emma crossed her arms. “Gods, you’re such a nerd.”

  Milo slipped his hands into his pockets, looked down at the open books, and smiled.

  “Once a nerd, always a nerd, I guess.”

  “I had a strange dream tonight,” Emma said. “And then Lily woke me up. I barely remember it.”

  Milo frowned. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Not tonight.” She sighed and looked away. “I want to have fun with my friends. They invited us to go to the attic.” Her eyes widened. “They’re going to roast marshmallows.”

  “Marshmallows.” A low groan came from Milo’s stomach. He had skipped dinner tonight to finish reading an interesting chapter from one of his books on luminether manipulation and how it was affected by an individual’s hierarchy of cognitive functions; in other words, their personality type. He hadn’t actually skipped dinner, he’d just forgotten all about it. Gods, he was such a nerd, but who cared when there was so much interesting stuff out there to…

  “You’re doing it again!”

  “What?” Milo said.

  “That weird look you get sometimes when you’re not paying attention. Are you coming or not? Oh, and guess what else they’re going to have?”

  “Chocolate?”

  “Soda!” She threw her arms up and smiled so wide her eyes closed. “Barrel knows how to make it.”

  “Of course he does. Barrel can make anything. But can he make chocola
te? That’s the question.”

  “Does that mean you’ll come?”

  “I don’t know,” Milo said. “Who’s going to be there?”

  “Everyone. Except chocolate. Sorry.”

  Milo shrugged. “I guess.”

  He followed his sister out of the room and down into a hallway he’d never been in before. It was dark, and cold air swirled around his ankles, chilling him. Emma pulled a cord attached to the ceiling and stepped back as a panel opened and burped out a rope ladder. She motioned for Milo to go first.

  “Here goes,” he said, taking a deep breath.

  He climbed and poked his head into an attic space that was long and bare except for the occasional stack of boxes against the wall. The ceiling was vaulted, with skylights that drew squares of starlight on the floorboards. An enormous, dusty telescope sat at the other end, inclined to look through one of the skylights.

  Milo had never been in a room that felt so mysterious before. And it was quiet, too; so quiet he could hear the boards groaning beneath his weight. Lightbugs flashed like multicolored stars. There were pink ones, blue ones, even some that burst into tiny flames every few seconds. They were everywhere.

  He reached out for one of the burning bugs with his finger. It was like touching a lit match.

  “Ow.” He yanked his hand back.

  By then Emma had already entered, scooped up the rope ladder, and closed the panel door.

  She waved Milo along. “It’s this way.”

  Milo hadn’t even noticed the structure at one corner of the attic. It was actually a room made up of many stacked boxes, the only way in and out through a narrow opening against the wall.

  As he followed his sister, he rapped his knuckles against one of the boxes. They were full of something thick and heavy, maybe sand. Whatever it was, it had taken one or more very strong persons to stack them all. The work had to have been done with a single purpose in mind: to create a secret place away from the adults.

  Milo felt a chill caress his shoulder blades as he entered. It was part fear and part excitement; he was entering yet another mysterious world, this one small and safe. Orange light burned in the center, surrounded by a half-dozen sitting figures. The light radiated from a fire inside a large bowl, the flames coming from crystals piled inside.

  Milo recognized the faces around the fire, and as he walked in, they all turned and smiled at him. Sevarin was missing. That took a weight off his mind.

  And there was Lily Breezewater, with green and gold feathers behind one ear. She wore a thick brown sweater and white pants tucked into fur-lined boots, and she was sitting Indian-style on the floor along with the others. The group also included Owen and Gunner, dressed comically as hunters in green-and-brown camouflage suits, and Barrel, who looked mysterious sitting beneath all those folds of his cloak. Calista was missing, though Milo wasn’t surprised; she almost never participated in group activities.

  Emma sat down next to Lily.

  “Milo, come here,” she said in a loud whisper.

  They all watched him sit next to his sister. Lily leaned forward and waved at him. The smile she gave him was so wide it made her eyes narrow into slits. Milo’s heart thumped.

  “Hi, Milo,” she said.

  “Hey, Lily.”

  Across from them, Owen and Gunner were having a quiet but intense debate about two famous hunters of a strange creature called an “Elki.” The hunters in question had both become famous at the same time, and Owen and Gunner had each chosen a different one to support. Apparently, one used guns and the other used a broadsword. Owen preferred the gunfighter and Gunner the swordsman, though Milo had no idea what difference it really made. He made a mental note to ask about these Elki creatures later.

  Emma leaned over and whispered something in Milo’s ear, catching him off-guard.

  “I know you like Lily. You should ask her to sit by the pond with you. That’s what people do here.”

  Milo’s face heated up in embarrassment.

  “She’s two years older than me,” he said, frowning. “Besides, I don’t like her.”

  Now it was Emma’s turn to frown. “Why not? What did she do to you?”

  “Nothing, I just—never mind.” He crossed his arms and stared moodily at the fire crystals. How he wished he could cast a fireball again—and with everyone watching him this time, especially Lily. That would show them he wasn’t just some nervous little kid.

  Barrel cleared his throat. “Shall we?”

  “We shall,” Lily said, standing. She looked over the group. “Okay, everyone, we have a special treat for you this evening.”

  She nodded at Barrel, who stood up with a light sigh of effort. He glanced at something in the darkened corner.

  “It’s too heavy for me.”

  Gunner sprang to his feet. “It’s okay, Baraltimus, sir. I’ll get it.”

  “Thank you, Gunner.” Barrel let out a petite sigh. “I’ve become an old man already.”

  “How old are you, anyway?” Owen said, gazing at a sharp-looking arrow he’d pulled out of a duffel bag. “I heard you’re almost a hundred.”

  “Humankin and their rumors.” Barrel shook his head. He turned and watched Gunner lug over a big, plastic tank carrying a dark liquid that sloshed inside.

  “Careful,” Barrel said. “It’s carbonated. We don’t want it to go pop.”

  He demonstrated with an outward burst of his white hands.

  “It’s heavy,” Gunner said. “What is it?”

  Barrel looked over the group.

  “Those of the human realm have their Coca-Cola.” He glanced at Milo and Emma. “I call this Bara-cola. The one and only, mixed by yours truly. Just don’t drink too much or it’ll make you feel loopy. Oh, and I had a little trouble with the marshmallows.”

  “A little trouble?” Lily said.

  “They came out the size of basketballs.”

  “Oh.”

  “But I brought them anyway.”

  Emma clapped. “Yea!”

  Barrel motioned for Owen to slide a box over from the corner of the room. Owen sighed and got up, then sighed again as he pushed. As per Barrel’s instructions, he reached in and pulled out two marshmallows that required both arms to lift. They really were the size of basketballs. Milo’s mouth watered at the sight of them.

  Owen gave one of the marshmallows to Emma and kept the other for himself and Gunner. Soon, they were all tearing away fluffy, sticky white chunks and stuffing their mouths. Meanwhile, Barrel instructed Gunner on how to connect the hose and nozzle they would use to pour the Bara-cola.

  Emma asked Barrel, “How did you get all this stuff up here, anyway?” She sucked marshmallow off her fingertips. “Like that huge tank of soda.”

  “Sevarin,” Barrel said.

  “Where is he?”

  Barrel glanced over at Lily, who quickly looked away.

  “What?” Emma said.

  Barrel shrugged. “He hasn’t been feeling—how should I say this?—appreciated these days. Don’t worry, it has nothing to do with you.”

  “He’s sensitive,” Lily said. “Also, a bit melodramatic.”

  “He likes Emma,” Milo said, and grinned at his sister.

  She shoved him. “Shut up.”

  “See? Now I get to make fun of you.”

  Lily looked confused. “What are you two talking about?”

  “Oh, nothing,” Emma said. “It’s just that Milo likes someone in this roo—oof!”

  Milo had shoved a chunk of marshmallow into Emma’s mouth.

  “That’ll teach you,” he said.

  “Foopid.” Emma said, frowning at him as she chewed.

  They spent the next twenty minutes sipping a fizzy drink that tasted a bit like cinnamon and sour apples. Emma found it unpleasant and too tingly and tried to set her cup aside without calling attention to it. Milo, on the other hand, was on his third cup by the time everyone else was finishing with their second.

  “Whoa,” he said, looking a
t all the buzzing lightbugs. They were everywhere. “They’re so colorful.”

  “You really like the soda, huh?” Barrel said, crossing his arms and peering at him.

  “It’s great!” Milo grabbed at the lightbugs. “But I feel—I feel…”

  “Your arms must be a little numb right now. Don’t worry. Soon, you’ll feel like you just had the best massage of your life.”

  Milo looked into his cup. “Cool.”

  The group chatted for a bit when suddenly Owen got up and cleared his throat.

  “Barrel isn’t the only one with something to contribute.” He paused and looked around at everybody in an attempt to build suspense. “I’ve got something special for the gang tonight.”

  Barrel rubbed his hands together and looked at Milo.

  “The comic books,” he said.

  “Actually”—Owen cleared his throat with the ahem, ahem of a carnival announcer—“I have a joke for all of you. I know you’ll like this one. A Savant, a Feral, and a Xelionic priest walk into a bar…”

  “Oh, that one’s offensive,” Lily said, scowling at him. “Plus it’s not funny. Did you really not bring the comic books?”

  “I was just kidding,” he said. “Geez. Can’t you take a joke?”

  “Yeah,” Gunner said. “Geez!”

  “Anyway, I wanted you all to get some of Barrel’s cola in you before I brought these babies out. They’re brand new and still smell like Ayrtorian plastic. Enjoy.”

  Lily clapped excitedly, and soon everyone followed. Gunner, who was still standing over the Bara-cola tank, slipped a backpack off his shoulders and dug around inside. He passed Owen two stacks of neatly packaged comic books. Owen tore them open and started handing them out. A stream of lightbugs swirled all around him, flashing different colors, like a galaxy of red, orange, and yellow stars.

  “Pass ’em around, folks,” he said, then swatted at the colors. “Damned lightbugs.”