At first, Iolus had thought he was crazy, but the voice had taught him spells of incredible power that he, in his current Savant body, wasn’t nearly capable of casting. But soon he would become so powerful that his limited human form would never again stand in the way of his mental might. He would cast spells that would scorch the sky and boil the oceans.
Iolus reached another bridge that arched across yet another seemingly bottomless pit. But this bridge was unlike any of the others. It was made of animal bones glued together with a dried substance that smelled of rot and bile. Since the master had no physical presence in this realm, the only explanation Iolus could fathom was that his unholy proximity to this particular spot had driven the animals to the deadly task of fusing themselves into a bridge. Very interesting, indeed.
Iolus always expected the creaky thing to snap beneath his weight, but it never did. Halfway across it, he stopped and had Aikon float the wagon over a section of the pit where he could see a sliver of pale light in the depths.
He made a revolving motion with his index finger, causing Aikon to break into a frenzied spin that severed the chains binding the wagon. The abyss quickly swallowed the crystals, erasing their light with such suddenness that Iolus wondered if he had failed in tonight’s experiment.
The bridge began to vibrate. He ran to get off it as quickly as possible, Aikon following at his side, and managed to leap toward safety just as a violent earthquake seized the cavern.
The quake lasted a full minute or more, twice as long as last time. The gateway had opened but not enough. Still, he was getting closer. Next time, the sliver of pale light at the bottom of the pit would be even brighter and easier to spot.
Brilliance filled the cavern. Iolus had to shield his eyes from the burst of white light that erupted suddenly from the pit, erasing the bone bridge from sight. Then sharp, frantic silhouettes appeared, spiraling upward. Animals? Beasts from the nether? The light dimmed just enough so he could make out the jagged, sightless creatures that flapped on leathery wings, squawking sharply as if the light burned their skin. They crashed blindly into each other with shrieks and bony thumps before escaping into the cavern’s outer reaches.
The light disappeared after a few moments, and the cavern was dark and silent again. With Aikon pressed against his belly like a handrail, Iolus chanced a look into the pit. The sliver was wider than before. Success.
It is not nearly enough, sorcerer. I need more of the essence from your realm.
“What do you require of me, Master? Tell me.”
More of the dark energy—a thousand times more than you have brought me tonight.
“A thousand time more?” Iolus said, teeth clenched in frustration. Where would he get that many crystals—and fully charged! “And in return…?”
He had to hear it again, the words that would make the anger easier to bear.
In return, I will make you as a god to the creatures of both realms—human and godspawn alike. No army will ever match the fires of your hateful heart. I will grant you unimaginable spells only a god could devise. Magic that could tear the cosmos apart and rebuild it in whatever image you desire.
The words worked like a charm. Iolus felt the hot flush drain from his face. “And what about you?” he asked the master. “Would you not take your rightful place as the ruler of these worthless creatures? Would I not simply stand in your way?”
Another burst of gravelly laughter.
Such petty ambitions are but dust in the wake of my being. I thirst for revenge against those who imprisoned me. I will find my brothers and sisters beyond the Nether, and I will destroy them. Once I return to Astros, a hundred thousand years will have passed. Such is the nature of time in the fields to which I go.
By then, sorcerer, you will have developed the might and knowledge of a god. We could have a battle for supremacy, and the loser would bow to the winner for the rest of time. It would still be a good life.
Iolus smiled. “A hundred thousand years as a god should be enough to satisfy even one as greedy as I.” He leaned over the pit to shout his next words. “And know this, Lord of Chaos. Once you return, many ages from now, I will give you a battle you’ll never forget.”
The master’s laughter came from the pit instead of inside Iolus’s head. This time, he didn’t mind it, even as it followed him back to the surface.
HE HAD one more stop to make.
It was hidden in yet another section of these mountains, closer to the city and less of a secret to the men he wished to avoid. But still, he flew carefully, avoiding patrols on the way to the network of caves and tunnels where the emperor’s undead army harvested blood crystals night after night.
At the entrance, he watched the rotting husks bring up crystals that would have poisoned an ordinary miner to death. One pair of undead laborers carried a raw crystal with only a tiny bit of light burning in its scarlet core. Up the dirt path they went, toward a wagon that was almost full of similar crystals. They swung it clumsily onto the pile, then turned and lumbered back to the mine as the crystal tumbled off the wagon and onto the ground.
Frowning, Iolus bent down and ran his hand along its jagged surface. Such a precious item, and these mindless freaks handled it as if it were no more than a hunk of coal.
Words had been painted on the wagon’s side.
Property of the Emperor.
“We’ll see about that,” Iolus said.
CHAPTER 13
M ilo’s vision went through a strange shake-up as he and the others followed Emmanuel up a busy street in the academy’s village area. The rain had stopped. He had been admiring the quaint buildings on either side of him that housed hotels, restaurants, and other small businesses, when an eerie weight settled over his mind like one of those lead X-ray vests at the dentist.
It wasn’t painful. In fact, it was strangely exciting.
One moment, he was thinking about how happy the students must be in such a picturesque campus. The next, he was wondering how this place would look if someone bombed it into oblivion. He found himself noticing what people were wearing, what kinds of carriages passed him on the street, and how muscular and healthy the levathons appeared to be—not because he was admiring these things but because, like a spy in enemy territory, he was visualizing how it could all be destroyed.
He felt a tug on his sleeve.
“Milo, what’s wrong?” Emma asked, looking deeply concerned.
Had she read his thoughts? And why was he suddenly so intrigued by the golden color of her wings? Why was he imagining the sound of her screams if someone were to tear them off?
“What do you mean?” he whispered.
“You’re frowning. And you just shivered. Are you cold or something? And why are you whispering?”
A terrifying thought seized his mind—he wanted to put his hands around Emma’s throat and see what it felt like to strangle the life out of her.
“No.”
The weight on his mind lifted, and Milo found himself bent on the sidewalk, covering his eyes with the crook of his elbow. He lowered his arm and stood blinking at his friends. They had all stopped to stare at him.
“What happened?” Emmanuel said, rushing to his side.
“N-nothing. I just… I was just remembering something.” He looked away in embarrassment.
Emma gave him a reassuring look. “It’s Mom and Dad, isn’t it? That happens to me, too. You just need to talk to someone about it.”
“It’s post-traumatic stress,” Sevarin added. “I get that, too.”
Emmanuel didn’t look convinced. “Is that all it was?”
Milo nodded.
“You sure?”
Another nod. His mind was his again, back to normal. But would it happen again? Did he have a suppressed urge to harm his own sister and friends?
“I think it was just a panic attack,” Milo said, immediately regretting it as Sevarin, Owen, and Gunner glanced at each other—a glance that seemed to say, Maybe Milo isn’t as tough as we
thought.
“You need to eat,” Emma told him, taking his arm and pulling him along. “Come on. Uncle Manny, can we find this hotel already and eat an actual meal?”
“We can eat here at the hotel, but I have another place in mind that I think you’ll all find a bit more exciting.”
“Ooh,” Lily said. “Like a fancy restaurant?”
Emmanuel grinned at her. “Even better. Just trust me and tighten your belts for one more hour.”
Their uncle nodded and continued up the sidewalk toward a white, two-story clapboard building. It had a deck that wrapped around the ground floor and another around the second. Travelers lounged on each level, looking down into the street as if to decide which restaurant might hold their next meal.
A sign above the front door displayed the name of the establishment.
HOTEL OF ARMS.
Above it hung an emblem depicting two short swords crossed over a family crest.
“We’ll be staying here for a few days,” Emmanuel told them as they climbed the front steps. “I still need to solve your dormitory situation. And, we need to set up your bank accounts and do some shopping for clothes and uniforms before we turn in.”
Normally, this news would have been exciting, but Milo still felt ashamed at what had happened earlier. He tried not to brood as he and the others registered with the hotel’s front desk and made their way upstairs to unpack and leave their things. The next hour was full of mundane details—who would sleep where, who would bunk with whom (this was pretty easily decided as both Owen and Gunner, as well as Emma and Lily, had already been roommates once), and what kinds of supplies everyone would need for their classes.
All Milo could think about was what kinds of school supplies one might buy in a place like this. Would they mostly be technological in nature? Magical? A hybrid of both? His friends seemed just as excited, except for Oscar, who kept trying to resist his father’s efforts to help him make a list of supplies.
“How can we even know until we get there?” he asked the man sharply as everyone sat in the hotel’s lounge and waited for Emmanuel. “We don’t know what they sell. It could be magic wands and floating bicycles for all we know.”
“I think is just good to prepare,” his father answered in flawed English. “You remember of what happen in Cartagena when we try to buy at the centro for your school, and we finish buying the papers with lines—”
“Instead of squares,” Oscar finished for him. “I know, Papa. But that was for math class. Who knows what kinds of courses I’ll be taking here? It could be sabotage or lock picking or acrobatics. I’ll let Emmanuel tell me what to buy, okay?”
Andres let the matter rest with a sigh, shoulders slumped. He busied himself with studying a pile of magazines on the center table, obviously uninterested in the flashy images of Acolyte supermodels and Sargonaut movie stars. Milo felt a stab of pity for the man but didn’t know what to say. Barrel handed Andres a tube of steaming coffee, which he accepted with a grateful smile.
Emmanuel appeared finally and led everyone outside, where he hailed two Wingcabs to take them to what he called “that new shopping center that just opened up.”
“New shopping center?” said the driver of the first cab, a hunched old lady wearing wraparound sunglasses and smoking a purple cigarette. “Hero’s Plaza has been around for twelve years, sonny boy.”
“Geez, time flies,” Emmanuel said, climbing into the front seat.
The group separated into two cabs. One followed the other up past the layer of gray clouds and into a clear sky away from the threat of rain. Twenty minutes later, after circling a gigantic mountain peak, the cabs arrived at Hero’s Plaza.
It was clearly a mall, but it was unlike like any mall Milo had ever visited. Hero’s Plaza was a sprawling, shimmering, distinctly spiky collection of glass buildings that looked almost like an ice sculpture crossed with a pile of diamonds. It was surrounded by parking lots, fields of freshly cut grass, outdoor courtyards, and stables where visitors could pay attendants to temporarily store their levathons.
And it was floating miles above the mountains, resembling a chunk of earth dangling from invisible strings. The underside was dirt and stone, with patches of vegetation and clumps of vines growing upward toward the sunlit surface. The contrast between raw earth and gem-like buildings made Milo’s breath catch in his throat.
They landed at the main entrance, and the orphans practically knocked each other through the cab’s doors to get out. Emmanuel didn’t scold or stop them. Instead, he smiled at their cheerfulness. Inside, there were at least six levels of stores one could visit. Floating platforms busily swept shoppers across the open central space, while disembodied glass elevators carried them up and down the levels.
They followed him to a holographic map of the entire mall. Emmanuel took at least three minutes to locate the store he needed, time the orphans spent gazing in stunned silence at their surroundings.
Visigo’s was a huge department store that rose across all six levels with entrances on each one. As soon as Milo entered, an invisible force carried him off his feet, making him feel as light as a feather caught on a gust of stifling air.
“Zero gravity?” he asked.
“Or just plain magic,” Gunner said.
Barrel had his own theory. “It must be letting in some of the energy supporting the entire landmass. Clever.”
“We’ll meet back here in one hour,” Emmanuel said, glancing at his watch. He floated awkwardly, like someone trying to stand on a shifting canoe. “Then we’ll grab a meal at the food court, not that my stomach will be in any condition to eat after all this floating.”
“What should we get?” Emma asked.
“Book bags, notebooks, writing utensils…” Emmanuel clutched his belly. “If in doubt, just buy it. We can sort everything out later.”
The orphans grinned at each other. Was he saying they could buy anything?
“I can do that,” Emma said. “But just remember you said that later, when you’re looking at the bill.”
Emmanuel frowned playfully at her. Then, looking like he might puke, he floated toward the section that sold books.
It took the orphans several seconds to get the hang of floating. Milo found that he could propel himself forward with subtle wind spells. Emma used her wings and seemed delighted to be simulating actual flight. Only Andres seemed to be incapable of mastering it.
“I will wait here,” he told them, hanging back by the entrance.
Freed from his father, Oscar joined Owen, Gunner, and Sevarin as they headed toward the sporting section. Lily and Emma immediately swam toward the girls’ clothing section, where floating platforms that resembled sailboats held racks of brightly colored outfits. Milo and Barrel shot toward the floating racks holding the school supplies.
“What do you think of this place?” Barrel asked him. “Pretty incredible, is it not?”
“It’s awesome,” Milo said, studying a pack of pens that allowed you to write words in the air, and then erase them by simply blowing them out. “It’s like a dream come true.”
“Hmm…” Barrel pinched his chin. “I have this odd feeling, though.”
“About what?”
“I don’t know exactly. There seems to be so much going on, with the Fountains of Joy, the serial kidnapper, the Archon behaving so strangely. It’s like your uncle sees a connection among all those things, but he’s keeping it a secret to protect us.”
“That’s because—” Milo slipped on a funny looking “Thinking Hat” that made his eyeballs glow “—we’re just kids, remember?”
“You’re sixteen years old. You’re not a kid anymore.”
“Seventeen. And I was joking, professor.”
“Hmm…” Barrel said again. “Not a bad suggestion, really. We should act like clueless kids so no one suspects we’re actually experienced warriors.” He winked at Lily, who smiled slyly and winked back.
Milo only half-listened. His attention had bee
n diverted by a collection of colorful backpacks arranged in a floating representation of a DNA strand. One could rise through the center, picking out backpacks while feeling like a microscopic observer of the very building blocks of life. It was enough to make him giddy.
The food court was just as impressive as the shopping area. It took up a courtyard the size of a football field and was so loud from all the people chatting and laughing that Milo could barely hear himself think. People sat on white patio furniture on a gravel floor, with fountains, statues, and greenery sprinkled throughout to create an atmosphere of being outdoors and somewhere fancy. Surrounding the courtyard were the different restaurants. Each was housed in its own tiny building, adding the quality of being inside a toy village. The variety of different food smells was dizzying, delicious enough to make his mouth water like a broken faucet.
“This totally beats a fancy restaurant,” Lily said, licking her lips.
There were many nods of agreement.
Each orphan settled on a different restaurant, all agreeing that they would share bites of their food to better sample the variety available to them. Emmanuel and Andres looked like they might have heart attacks when the group scattered in different directions, but everyone came back safe and sound carrying trays of steaming hot food (except for Lily, who ordered a salad with gelatinous strips that might have been raw octopus, and which no one wanted to sample).
Emma was the only one not smiling by the time they seated themselves at the first open table.
“What’s wrong?” Milo asked, taking a seat next to her.
She gave him a somber look. “I saw more of those missing posters and sketches of that Feral kidnapper in the mask.”
Savant & Feral (Digital Boxed Set): Books 1 and 2 of the Epic Luminether Fantasy Series Page 56
