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

by Richard Denoncourt

  “What are all those farmers doing now?” Emma said.

  “Manual labor. Building war machines, mostly—mecha, beamcasters, battleships, and jets. The things we all need now and don’t have enough of.”

  “Are most of these people infected? With Blightsores, I mean?”

  “Thankfully not. You can see why if you look toward the city. See any blue lights?”

  Emma considered the distant mass of building, her gaze quickly landing on a familiar blue glow in one of the parks. Her heart nearly jumped into her throat.

  “A Fountain of Joy. But I thought—”

  “They’re not called that anymore,” Milo said. “Now, they’re just known as ‘healing fountains.’ We have Juliara Asphodel to thank for that, and I mean that sincerely. She repurposed them all to serve as cures for the Blightsore. But that energy isn’t free. All citizens are required to pay what’s known as the ‘Blight tax.’ Once a month, every single one of us is required to visit a Fountain Clinic and donate some of our life force—the luminether that streams through our bodies. It weakens us temporarily, but it’s necessary to keep the fountains going, so all of us can benefit from their healing magic. Luckily, we’ve managed to keep the Blightsore virus at bay, but some of us still wear the scars of having been afflicted.”

  Emma glanced at Rachel, who had finished replacing the bandage and was now hugging herself, shivering inside her jacket.

  “The fountains,” Emma said. “Can’t that technology be used in other parts of Astros? To help people?”

  “Other countries are beginning to adopt it, finally. Not everyone trusted it at first. It took months to convince them, even longer to help implement them. But we’re better off thanks to Juliara’s work.”

  Feeling slightly ill, Emma looked away from the city to study the natural surroundings. The mountains looked like they were covered in grayish-brown hair, thanks to all the skeletons of dead trees. She knew what had caused this. Iolus had opened the rift. This was his fault.

  If only they had killed him back in Taradyn.

  “What about the battleships?” Emma said, looking back at the ugly shapes lining the ocean’s horizon. “What are they protecting us from?”

  “Used to be Cebrons,” Milo said, “but lately, it’s been refugees. People from other countries trying to get into Ayrtoros.”

  “In search of food,” Emma said, “and work.”

  He nodded glumly.

  Emma pictured innocent people covered in Blightsores, starving, paddling across the ocean to Theus, only to be greeted by flashing laser beams being shot at them.

  “If we’re going to beat this thing,” Milo continued, “then all Astricans have to unite and work together. But with the way we’ve been turning away refugees, we might as well put up a sign on our coast that says, ‘You’re on your own.’ It doesn’t help the war effort. Some countries have even declared war on Ayrtoros, saying we caused all this.”

  “We?”

  Milo faced her. Despite the sunglasses and having no eyesight whatsoever, his gaze seemed to bore into her like a drill. He spoke his next words slowly, so there would be no confusion.

  “You and me, and the rest of us who came over on Uncle Manny’s jet.”

  “What? They think we did this?”

  “Many people do, all over Astros. They blame us. They think our fight against Kovax and Iolus triggered all this. We’re only safe because Juliara and the academy are vouching for us. That’s the other reason for the battleships. We think other countries are preparing to attack us.” He turned to face the ocean. “I don’t think that; I know it. Just a matter of time. All that anger and frustration. The entire realm’s about to explode.”

  Resting his hands on the low wall encircling the patio, Milo gazed out at the depressing scene. He resembled a world-weary prince studying the ruins of his father’s kingdom, imagining all that could have been, and all that had been lost.

  “But Iolus is gone,” Emma said, “right? We don’t have to worry about him anymore.”

  “Wait a minute.” Milo frowned at her. “How did you know he was missing?”

  “I’ll explain, but first I need to know—is he still a threat?”

  “Yes,” Milo said. “Most definitely, yes.”

  Emma sat back and closed her eyes. Pain shot through her skull. Wasn’t Iolus supposed to be trapped in the Nether? Could it be her vision had been wrong?

  Doctor Senet was at her side a moment later.

  “Are you okay, nectar?” he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

  Emma opened her eyes. “Yes. I need to hear this.”

  With a grim nod, the doctor left her side and rejoined the rest of the group. Milo kept going, speaking more rapidly now, as if he wished to wrap all this up so they could deal with more important matters.

  “Iolus went missing just before the rift opened. Many of us thought he was gone for good. Now, we know for a fact that he’s been communicating with followers, warlords he’s recruited to fight for his cause. Somehow, they’ve figured out how to repurpose the towers—the ones Kovax built—to change things in our world. We don’t know where he’s hiding, but his influence is more powerful now than ever. It’s like… like he’s become ten times smarter, and a hundred times angrier.

  “No one knows what he wants. He can’t be going through all this trouble just to kill us. There has to be another reason.”

  “You’re right,” Emma said. All the orphans were suddenly staring at her. “I know what he wants. Chaos. That’s how he’ll break free. By breaking this world.”

  “How do you know that?” Milo said. “Did your Sight…”

  “Yes. I saw what happened to him. I was there, in the Nether, with him and Kovax and…”

  Her voice trailed away. No one spoke. Milo stood completely frozen in front of her, his mouth open in shock. Pris looked utterly confused as she walked up to the twins.

  “Emma, you might not be in a clear state of mind right now—”

  “That’s exactly what I have,” Emma said. “A clear mind. Clearer than I’ve ever felt.”

  She spun her hoverchair around, facing her friends, and swallowed nervously.

  “You’re not going to believe me at first, but I had a vision while I was in that coma, and it explains perfectly what’s happening now.”

  CHAPTER 57

  By the time she finished, orange light dominated the sky and the air was cold enough to sting. No one spoke for a while. Milo had turned his back to the group, facing the ocean, his hair dancing in the breeze.

  Sevarin was the one who broke the silence. “So your uncle failed. Manny failed to fix it, is what you’re saying.”

  “Sevarin,” Lily snapped.

  Milo spun around threateningly. “I’ll pretend you never said that.”

  “I’m just saying.”

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Milo said.

  Doctor Senet threw his hands into the air. “I’ve had enough. It’s getting late, and we have other patients. Rachel, Elsabeth. Follow me, please.”

  He led the nurses away. Rachel glanced over her shoulder once to give Emma a reassuring look. Emma responded with a firm nod, as if to say everything would be okay. Rachel’s response was a smile so full of hope it almost broke Emma’s heart.

  Hope. That was what the Riftplague had eaten away at worse than anything else—the hope that life would get better. Soon, all the hope in Astros would become like the scabs on Rachel’s belly—hard and black and dead.

  “I think I know who can help us,” Emma said, the idea suddenly striking her out of nowhere. “I mean, he built those towers, after all.”

  Now Milo was squaring his shoulders at her instead of Sevarin. “You’ve got to be kidding. Kovax?”

  “He protected me in the Nether,” Emma said, “even though he didn’t have to. He could have just watched. He cared about my safety.”

  “You’re not thinking straight,” Milo said. “The doctor was right. You ne
ed to get more rest.”

  Emma almost jumped out of her hoverchair. “I’ve been resting for eight months. Just listen to me. He knows those towers better than anyone else. And he knows how Iolus thinks.”

  Pris stepped forward, arms crossed over her chest. “I agree that Emma should speak with him. I’ve visited Kovax many times already. I’ve tried to get answers. But he claims he’ll speak to Emma and Emma alone. We’ve even used means that some would call immoral—”

  “Torture,” Sevarin said. “For months. I hope it still hurts.”

  “Relax,” Gunner said. “He’s not bad anymore.”

  Owen scoffed. “How do you know? Do you realize how many people he’s killed?”

  “I do,” Calista said, eyes smoldering. “Only he didn’t kill them. He slaughtered them like animals. Entire families, including my mom and my sister.”

  Gunner looked ashamed. “I understand. But I think judging him won’t help us right now. We should listen to Emma.”

  “We need all the help we can get,” Barrel said. “If Kovax knows something—”

  “What is wrong with you people?”

  Milo was casting his empty gaze over them now, his arms spread in a gesture of utter disbelief. “There’s no way I’m letting this happen. He murdered my father in cold blood. He killed thousands of people using those towers, including his own son. His own wife killed herself to get away from him. He’s a murderer and a liar, and he isn’t going anywhere near my sister.”

  “Milo, please,” Emma said. “Just listen.”

  Her brother was pacing back and forth now. “I’m done listening. Anyone who sides with Kovax or Iolus is my enemy. It’s that simple.”

  “Even your own sister?” Emma said.

  “If that’s how it has to be—then yes.”

  “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. What would Mom think if she heard you say that?”

  “Mom’s dead, and we have Kovax to thank for that. If he had never recruited Iolus—”

  “Enough,” Pris shouted, putting herself between them. “The last thing we need is for the two of you to be at war with each other.”

  “I’m not budging,” Milo said. “Kovax is dead to me.”

  “But not to me,” Emma said. “You weren’t in the Nether when all this happened. You can’t know what it was like in that horrible place, or what he was like.”

  “No?” Milo tore off his sunglasses. Emma was silenced by the sight of those pale, empty orbs. “Look at my face, Emma. Look at my eyes. He took them from me. Kovax got into my head and left me blind.” His voice rose into a vicious roar. “And you want to side with that son of a bitch?”

  He dropped the glasses. Flames erupted around his fists, hot enough to force Emma’s hands up to shield her face.

  Sevarin approached Milo, hands raised in a peaceful gesture. “Come on, bud. Relax. We get it…”

  “You don’t get anything!”

  Milo made a pushing gesture. A column of smoke sprung from his flaming hands, and the blast threw Sevarin backward with enough force to crack the hospital’s outer wall.

  “Milo,” Emma screamed.

  Pris went to restrain him as Milo lifted his right arm. The flames disappeared as a frenzy of bright, crackling threads of electricity erupted instead, buzzing and snapping between his splayed fingers.

  Pris froze mid-step. “Think about what you’re doing,” she said in a dangerously stern voice.

  “Stay back.”

  “I will not.”

  Emma sensed Pris was about to move forward. She opened her mouth to scream, hoping it would stop them both, but was silenced by a sudden blur of movement that slammed Milo backward into the low wall encircling the patio. The electric bolts shot upward in a harmless flurry that disappeared against the sky.

  Someone—not Pris—had lunged at him so fast she’d been nearly invisible.

  Calista.

  “What are you doing?” Milo asked the girl now holding him in a tight embrace, her face pressed against his chest. “Cali, what…”

  Calista shushed him. She pulled back, gazing into his lifeless eyes.

  “Open them,” she said.

  “What?”

  “Your eyes. Open them.”

  He blinked in obvious confusion. “But… but they are open. So what? I still can’t see you.”

  “That’s right.” She took a step back. “You can’t see me, or Emma, or any of us, because you don’t want to. Because you’re afraid. It has nothing to do with your eyes.”

  Milo’s face tightened into a scowl. “Don’t push me, Calista. I’m not in the mood for games—”

  “Neither am I,” she snapped at him, her tail whipping from side to side. “Once, I tried to leave all of you. And I’m glad I did, because I learned something. Back then, all I saw were my own problems. I thought they were bigger than everyone else’s, just like you’re thinking now.

  “But let me tell you something I know from seeing it up close. This war is bigger than you.” She jabbed her finger into Milo’s chest, causing him to look away in shame. “It’s bigger than your problems. It’s bigger than all of us put together. If there’s a shred of a chance that Emma could learn something from that horrible man who took your parents away from you—who took my entire family away from me—then it’s your job to make sure that conversation takes place. You owe that much to the rest of us. Actually, you owe that much to your parents, because anything less than that is a death sentence for you and Emma and everyone else you’ve ever cared about. You think Max and Zandra would want that?”

  “Are you finished?” Milo said.

  Calista nodded, tears sliding down her face. She wiped them away. “I’m finished,” she said. “We all are. This whole stupid world is unless you decide to stop being a selfish boy and start being the man we’re all counting on you to be. We’re a family. We’re nothing by ourselves. And you want to throw all that away.”

  “Thanks, but I don’t need a lecture,” Milo said. “If you’re so unhappy, you shouldn’t have come back.”

  Calista flinched, and Emma sensed the remark had been like a slap in the face.

  Oscar went to stand next to her. He put his hand on Calista’s arm and gently nudged her aside so he could take over.

  “You won’t talk to her like that, Milo,” Oscar said simply, without anger, but with a determination Emma had never seen in him before. Even his Spanish accent sounded unusually hard around the edges. “You won’t talk to any of us like that. My father died, too, but it wasn’t Kovax who killed him. I did. I led him up to that cave. I hated myself for that, but I’m not going to hate anyone anymore. That’s how Iolus will beat me.”

  “Oscar…” Milo said, lifting a hand as if to indicate it was no use even trying.

  “Don’t talk now,” Oscar snapped at him. “Just listen. Your anger and hatred are hurting this group. You want something you will not find here. You want to be a Cyren. Okay, fine. Go be a Cyren. Or just go, and don’t come back until you’re ready to give us hope instead of hate.”

  “Fine,” Milo said, walking past Oscar to address the entire group. “Now that Emma’s awake, I have no reason to be here anymore. The answers I’m looking for are out there.” He glanced toward the ocean, then turned his gaze on Pris. His arm rose until he was pointing accusingly at her. Strange how he could do that, being blind and all. Emma found it distinctly creepy. “They’re out there,” he said again, “and you know where, Pris. But you’ve been lying to me all this time. I may be blind, but I’m not that blind.”

  Pris stood with her arms crossed, her only movement a slight narrowing of her eyes. It made the ancient, pale scar that ran diagonally across her face look even more intimidating. “You’ve been reading my thoughts, Milo?”

  He shook his head. “Simple mentalist trick. I can feel when someone’s lying to me. And it’s not just me you’re doing it to. You have plans for all of us, but you’re keeping them a secret. We’re like puppets to you.”

/>   Pris looked up at the sky. Emma followed her gaze, but there was nothing to see except the ominous, dark underbellies of gathering clouds.

  “He should be here within a week’s time,” Pris said, looking at Milo again.

  “Who should be here?” Milo demanded.

  “An old friend. One of the original Champions, though it’s been ages since he went by that title. Or since he walked on two legs.”

  “Quaddis Lodge,” Barrel said breathlessly. He used his Araband to bring up a holographic representation of the man.

  Not a man—a wolf.

  “Mighty,” Owen whispered.

  The orphans studied the creature’s sky-blue fur, which was riddled with streaks of red and orange resembling flames. His eyes were a bright yellow, and there were chunks of flesh missing from one of his ears. In the hologram, Quaddis was running at full speed, his tail whipping viciously. His mouth opened to reveal sharp teeth.

  He looked beautiful but also deadly—like a Tiberian Steel sword on fire.

  “Whatever you’re all looking at,” Milo said, “I’m sure it’s good. But this isn’t the time for entertainment.”

  Pris waved her hand at Barrel, a motion that said kill it. He obeyed and tucked the Araband back into his pocket.

  Bending down, Milo searched the floor for his sunglasses. He slipped them on and went to face the ocean’s direction again. Emma guessed he enjoyed the breeze against his skin, or maybe he was just uncomfortable with everyone staring at him. Either way, his attitude—even his posture and the way he walked—seemed foreign to her, as if a stranger had taken over her twin brother’s body.

  “Another baby sitter,” Milo said wearily. “That’s all he is.”

  Sevarin let out a sharp sigh. “What is your problem, Banks?”

  Lily grabbed Sevarin’s forearm. “Stop it. He’s not himself.”

  Pris approached Milo, only this time she looked more tired than upset. Emma felt sorry for the woman. Emmanuel had yanked her out of the life she had grown accustomed to, so that she could be a glorified babysitter for a bunch of teenagers who couldn’t control their emotions. Or their powers.