“This feels like a rollercoaster,” she said, exhaling. “I hate rollercoasters.”
“We’ll be fine. Just hold on.”
The shuttle picked up speed with an audible hum. Soon they were traveling so fast that the overhead lights were no more than blurs. The shuttle’s constant tilting and turning as it navigated the tunnel did funny things to Milo’s stomach. Then, finally, a massive door opened up ahead, revealing a dark-blue circle of color.
It was a wall of water, like one side of a glass aquarium. Beyond it was pure ocean. Milo braced himself for impact.
The shuttle shook as it slammed through the invisible barrier. The orphans were pushed forward a little in their seats. They were in the ocean now, a hundred feet below the surface. The overhead lights went off, leaving the cabin filled with watery blue light.
Milo looked out the windshield and saw enormous dark shapes in the sunlit depths. They were like whales but bigger, with long, finned tails that swished from side to side, propelling their bodies forward. Schools of colorful fish flashed across the windshield like flower petals yanked by invisible strings. The orphans let out gasps of delight as glowing, toothy creatures resembling sharks, but with webbed hands and feet, darted into view and then swam away.
Milo took in a lungful of processed air. His uncle’s voice filled the shuttle.
“We’ll be traveling underwater most of the way to avoid the emperor’s patrols. It’s a long journey, about fifteen hours. So feel free to take off your seat belts and make yourselves comfortable.”
He swiveled in his seat to face them.
“When we arrive in Theus, the Archon will want to meet you. Word of your battle against Iolus and his troops has already spread throughout the five continents, which may or may not be a good thing. I hope you kids can deal with being famous because, where we’re going, you might as well be the next generation of Champions.”
Milo unbuckled his seatbelt and stood up. “Will you be staying with us?”
Emmanuel became a silhouette as he stood up and walked toward the wall of glass at the front of the shuttle.
“Come closer, kids,” he said, motioning with one hand.
The orphans unbuckled their seatbelts in a chorus of loud clatters and went up to the glass. Emmanuel joined his hands behind his back and stood as rigid as a pillar.
“I won’t be staying in Theus for long,” he said. “I have to find the other Champions and convince them to join us, which won’t be easy. But I’ll be there long enough to make sure you get accommodated. I trust all of you will work hard toward completing your studies when I’m not there.”
Milo approached the glass and watched a long, dragonlike creature swim up from the depths and execute a series of curling dances in the water. It was joined by another, similar creature that wrapped itself around the first as they danced.
“You’ll be safe,” Emmanuel said. “I promise.”
Emma was the one who spoke. “We know. We trust you.”
Her uncle looked down at her and smiled, and it was a sad smile.
Milo spoke, but mostly to himself. “We’re not children anymore.”
A cool hand slipped into his. Lily stood next to him, looking at him with her head slightly tilted, her face a cool blue from the deep ocean’s light. In her other hand was the short staff Milo had given her. The luminether crystal glowed faintly.
“I’m glad you and Emma found us,” Lily said, leaning in so only he could hear.
“Me, too.”
The other orphans didn’t seem to notice Milo and Lily standing so close to each other and holding hands. Or they were pretending not to. He didn’t care which.
Suddenly his hand felt warm, and he looked down to see blue light glowing where their palms met. He channeled his own energy into the light, intensifying it and making it pulse.
The light blinked off. Lily yanked her hand away.
Emma had appeared at their side.
“Hi, sis,” Milo said. “We were, um…”
“Get a room, you two,” Emma said with a wicked grin before darting away.
Lily looked up at Milo and gave him a shy smile. Without hesitation, Milo held out his hand so she could take it again.
“Stay with me,” he said. “Through all of this. Fight them with me.”
She seemed to consider this for a moment, then took his hand in acceptance. “You know, at the academy, they teach that a sorcerer should always be paired up with a magician. That way the sorcerer can cast offensive spells while the magician defends.”
“Does that mean you’ll pair up with me?” Milo said.
She have him a little squint and a smile, as if unsure whether to grant his request. Then she lifted the short staff and tapped the crystal against his chest.
“You’ll need someone to watch your back.”
Milo wanted to laugh but contained himself. It would have been such a childish thing to do, and he no longer felt like a child. And yet something about Lily still made him feel so inexperienced.
They went back to looking out at the ocean depths. It was exciting, like standing at the edge of an enormous cavern.
Milo looked to his left and saw Emma gaping at the sight of all that water. She looked at him, and they shared a smile. Then Milo, having remembered something important, reached into his pocket and took out the beacon crystal. He held it up so Emma could see it, and then he tossed it to her. Emma caught it, slipped it into her pocket, and tipped her head at Milo in gratitude.
A family of silky, tissue-like creatures swam ahead of the shuttle, lights flashing in their bellies. The orphans studied them in rapt silence. They stood that way, shoulder to shoulder, looking out at the ocean depths and thinking of all that lay beyond, and the massive city toward which they were headed.
“Do you think they’ll accept us?” Lily said.
Milo put his palm on the cool glass.
“I hope so,” he said. “Because there’s no turning back.”
Lily pressed her hand next to his.
“No turning back,” she said.
The other orphans saw what Milo and Lily were doing. One by one, they placed their hands on the glass, a silent pledge binding them together, as the shuttle carried them through the ocean toward the city of Savants.
TO BE CONTINUED…
If you liked the novel, please go to Savant’s Amazon page and leave a review.
Why review this book?
Writing one of these things is never easy, and every review I get, whether positive, lukewarm, or critical (as long as it’s honest), provides me with information I can use to keep improving my stories. Without them, I have no idea what I’m good at and what still needs work. So go ahead and post a few words, let me know what you think, and stay tuned for the next book in the series!
Best,
Rich Denoncourt
FERAL: PART I
BEASTS OF BURDEN
PROLOGUE
I olus snarled at his own reflection in the mirror.
The bathroom was a tiny stall with a ceiling so low he could have reached up and touched it. It was filled with the sour tang of cheap wood and old urine. Grime coated the only window, deadening the light that came through.
He stood hunched over, his hands resting on the wooden sink, only half-listening to the muffled cries of the villagers being rounded up outside. His raiding party was now over a hundred strong, mostly men he’d recruited along the way. Today’s village was called Upsolon. Not that it mattered. Iolus was sure he’d forget the name, just like all the others.
He reached down and turned on the faucet. A stream of water plunged into the bowl. Lifting his right hand, he commanded the water to become a ball before him. It hovered in the air for a moment, cloudy at its core with bubbles, and rose as he moved his fingers. He closed his eyes and let the cool sphere break against his face, each water drop sliding off his chin and falling straight into the bowl as if it had a mind of its own. It refreshed him for only a moment. He clenched his
teeth.
The mirror was stained and pitted, but it showed his features well enough. He looked at his face, the whiteness of it, the rust-colored hair that fell in waves before his wolfish eyes, the skeletal cheekbones. He regarded himself for a long time.
Then he stepped back, grunted, and punched the mirror as hard as he could. It crunched and shattered into a hundred glittering fragments.
A moment later, the bathroom was silent again. He heard something drip and looked down to see his own blood pooling on the floor.
You are losing your mind, Sorcerer, came the voice inside his head.
“No, I’m not,” Iolus replied. “I’m getting it back.”
PART I
BEASTS OF BURDEN
CHAPTER 1
M onths after the battle on Taradyn, which the people of his empire were now calling “The Battle on the Ranch,” Kovax put the finishing touches on his machine. He named it Sightwielder. On the day it was finally ready, he called a meeting of his top lieutenants in his lab.
Basher, Leticia, Coscoros, and a low mage named Xanthus entered the room, the lighting of which was a warm red from all the blood crystals powering the machines. Wires crisscrossed overhead like webs spun by a mechanical spider. The air was thick with the coppery smell of blood and the sterile, metallic scent of circuit boards.
Coscoros scowled at his surroundings. Without his wings, he seemed a much lesser version of himself—human rather than the winged fighter he had been before.
Leticia followed, an orange eye patch covering the gash where her right eye had been. The scars on that side of her face were a gruesome set of parallel marks that only an animal’s claws could make. She watched Kovax, hungry for his command.
Basher entered wearing the traditional leather garb of his kind. A skirt around his waist made of leather eaves freed his movement in case he had to charge an enemy. An old, battle-scarred war hammer hung across his back. His deep-set eyes scanned the room, blinking in confusion at the clicking, humming machines.
“Ayrtorian metal magic?” he asked.
Coscoros threw a disgusted glance at him. “The Emperor made this. Theusian technology no longer compares to what we now have in Taradyn.”
Kovax smiled, mostly by crinkling his eyes. He waited for them to take in the wondrous sight of his creation. They lacked the intellectual capabilities and the knowledge of blood-ether luminotronics to fully appreciate what they were looking at, but he was satisfied by their awe, nevertheless.
The other low mage in the room was Xanthus Wolatheryn, son of that fool, Malius, whose big mouth had gotten him thrown in the dungeons. Xanthus, so unlike the arrogant, brazen old man, kept adjusting a wiry set of round spectacles as he squinted at his surroundings. The man resembled a priest crossed with a librarian, someone for whom battle magic and blood ether were topics best studied from the pages of a book, preferably in the safety of one’s own armchair.
“Is that a God’s Head bloodstone?” Xanthus said, staring at the crystal planted in the base of the machine’s central hub. “I read about those, but I’ve never seen one. Very rare, indeed.”
He approached the crystal. Kovax hissed at him.
“Step away, scholar.”
The low mage backed away.
Someone was missing.
“And Iolus?” Kovax said. “Where is he?”
“Iolus is, well…” Xanthus cleared his throat. “He finds himself, how do I say…”
“Spit it out.”
Coscoros held up a hand to silence the stuttering fool next to him. “My lord, if I may put it bluntly, our sorcerer is probably still drunk from last night and most likely wrapped in the arms and legs of a serving wench from a local tavern.”
Basher chuckled.
Leticia grimaced. “Seems to be a common story these days,” she said. “I think we’d be better off without hi—”
The doors banged open before she could finish. Iolus strolled into the room, his face tinged pink and his eyes yellow from his addiction to blood ether. His hands and fingernails were a similar blend of colors. Swollen, misshapen, and more like claws than human hands, they sported a set of nails as long and yellow as an Elki’s teeth.
“My Lord Emperor, King of the Most High and Godly Station,” the sorcerer said, coming to stand between Kovax and the group. He snapped to attention in a vastly exaggerated manner. “Iolus Magnus. Present.”
Kovax tried to contain his rage but could feel his nostrils flaring with each breath. “Drunk. Always drunk,” Kovax said, fuming. “You waste of life. What makes you think I’ll continue to tolerate this?”
Iolus wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and grinned. “Because you need me. There’s no one in this empire that can do what I do.”
Kovax reached to his right, where his staff, Duo, stood propped against a machine console. It flew into his open palm. He pointed the blood crystal tip at Iolus and sent the sorcerer flying backward into the closed set of doors. Iolus slammed into them with a bang and slumped to the floor, still grinning.
Basher chuckled. Coscoros remained silent, shaking his head in disgust. Leticia smiled as if she had claimed a small victory of her own.
Iolus stood with an amused groan and brushed strands of copper-colored hair off his face using his left hand. His right arm dangled from his shoulder in a way that was clearly abnormal. The forearm was broken, and a shard of bone had torn through the thin sleeve of his shirt.
Kovax kept his face serious, but inside, he smiled. Iolus, in his mocking fashion, gave Coscoros a pleading look.
With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, Coscoros went to the sorcerer, snapped the bone back into place, and healed it.
“Thank you, Cos,” Iolus said.
“Go fling yourself into the pits,” Coscoros said and turned to rejoin the others.
This sort of thing bothered Kovax to no end, but he kept quiet as Iolus found a spot against the back wall to lean on. This once-respected sorcerer had become a worthless playboy these past few months, throwing loud parties in his chambers and drinking the nights away like a fool. But Iolus’s assessment of his own abilities had been accurate. There was no one else in the kingdom who could execute elite-force operations like Iolus. Whenever Kovax needed an especially thorny rebellion put down or a village of Sargonaut dissenters to be razed, Iolus did the job like no other, at little cost to the empire’s treasury.
He wasn’t a worthless drunk, but he was still a drunk… and annoying to boot.
“I called you here for an important reason,” Kovax announced to the group. “The machines you see around you are part of a scouting device I call Sightwielder. With this tool, we’ll get the intel I need to finally eradicate every last Forge base on Astros.”
“How does it work, My lord?” Coscoros said.
Iolus mocked him in a crooning voice. “My Looord.”
Ignoring them, Kovax pointed his staff at a large switch on one of the panels that pointed upward. With a flick of his staff, he lowered it.
The central hub coughed out a blue globe that hovered in place like a planet covered in ocean. As his men stared at it, Kovax bent next to the hub and pulled up a thin tube with a plastic sheath at one end. He pulled it off to expose a thick, black needle.
He hissed quietly at the pain of the needle entering his wrist, and the tube darkened at once with his blood. Kovax strapped it in place, having already learned the hard way what happened when he didn’t. The floor was still stained from the last time the needle had slipped out.
Crude though it seemed, it was an amazing machine. The God’s Head crystal gave Sightwielder all the fuel it needed. The casting engines and machinery kept the spell going endlessly and intelligently. But Kovax’s blood was the key ingredient. It made the experience personal.
The orb’s color changed as if his blood were infusing the blue ocean with some kind of pollutant. Gradually, an image emerged from the haze until they were looking at the inside of a shuttle, seen from the eyes of someone standin
g inside it.
The person whose eyes they had borrowed looked through the shuttle’s front window at a vast spread of ocean. Miles ahead, where the ocean became coast, a majestic city sparkled in the sunlight, flanked by mountains.
The voice of a young boy rose from the globe.
“It’s incredible.”
“Isn’t it?” another voice said, coming from a man much older.
Suddenly, the globe filled with the face of a man wearing small, rounded sunglasses.
“Emmanuel, son of Sargos,” Leticia said in shock.
Next to her, Basher gaped at the vision like a stupid, overgrown boy trying to make sense of a complex math equation. “Well, smash me,” he said.
“Whose eyes are we borrowing?” Xanthus said, adjusting his glasses and squinting at the vision.
“Milo Banks,” Kovax said.
Iolus had joined the group. He stood watching Sightwielder with a sober expression Kovax hadn’t seen him wear in a long time.
Kovax didn’t like that look. He would have to keep a careful watch on the sorcerer in case he got any ideas.
Suddenly, two Ioluses stood there, perfectly twinned. Kovax blinked in confusion. His vision had doubled, which meant he would have to disconnect soon before the blood loss knocked him out.
Not yet. Just a few seconds longer.
“There are no limits to what you kids can accomplish here,” Emmanuel said as he looked out at the city getting closer by the second. “Especially you, Milo.”
Kovax pulled the needle out of his arm with a gasp. The globe disappeared with a rushing sound, and the room filled with red light again. Trying to hide how much the machine had weakened him, Kovax straightened his back and frowned.
“What you have just seen,” he said, “was a vision in real time—a vision pulled from the eyes of Milo Banks, son of Maximus and Aliara.”
Leticia, Coscoros, Basher, and Xanthus were all stunned, their mouths hanging open as they tried to comprehend the meaning of what they had just witnessed.
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