by Davis Ashura
His grin faded when he saw the girls meet up with a group of boys and one of them threw an arm around Selene’s shoulder.
“Who the hell is that?” he asked.
The boy drew Selene close, and Jake’s outrage rose.
Daniella chuckled and chided him. “Leave her be.”
“She’s too young to be meeting boys at night,” Jake protested.
“How old were you when you started meeting girls?”
“That’s not the point,” he said. “Selene’s a girl. She has no idea the dirty thoughts that go through the mind of a teenage boy.”
Daniella quirked an eyebrow. “I bet she actually does. She might even have some dirty thoughts of her own. I did. I still do.”
“Daniella!” Jake stared at her in shock.
Her eyes sparkled, and she laughed. Once again it reminded him of wind chimes, clear and lovely, and his irritation fell away in the face of it.
His easy grin returned, and he wondered what kind of dirty thoughts Daniella had.
EXPECTED ARRIVALS
October 1990
* * *
Adam peered at the island looming nearby and a welling sense of excitement, one his mahavan training couldn’t entirely contain, surged within his chest. Mythical Arylyn. It was every bit as beautiful as Brandon had described.
A half-moon shone, hanging like a strange lantern in the sky over a line of treed hills, and its light wavered on the waters, setting the clouds afire with a cool, ethereal glow. It reflected off the sandy beach and hills, and Adam also noted how brightly it beamed through puffy clouds. The moonlight illuminated the low-lying cliffs running east-to-west directly past the shoreline. It also brought the darkened, solitary tower commanding the small bay into clear relief. All of it easily visible in the moon beams.
Which meant so were their ships.
Adam cursed under his breath. They’d have to disembark as swiftly as possible and have the ships immediately move beyond the horizon. He called out orders in a low voice, one that wouldn’t carry across the water.
While their intended landing site was on the far side of the island from Lilith, they couldn’t risk the possibility that someone might be out for a late-night excursion. Plus, the tower on the cliff worried him. No lights played within it, but he couldn’t tell if it was truly as unoccupied as first impressions indicated. It had still been under construction during Brandon’s scouting mission, but now it rose finished. Disquiet rumbled through Adam’s mind. As the mahavans scurried about and carried out his orders, he continued to study the island, searching for a sign that the presence of his fleet might have been detected.
The captain of the vessel, Hannah Yearn, moved to stand at Adam’s shoulder. “We’ve got the boats lowered into the water, sir.”
“Good,” Adam said. “We’ll disembark, row to the island, and send the boats back. As soon as you have them tied down, sail straight north. Get over the horizon.” He held up a satellite phone and displayed it to the captain. “I’ll call you with the details of how the landing went as soon as we secure the beach and that tower.”
“Yes, sir.” Hannah saluted and quickly filled in her sailors, all of them drones except for a handful of mahavans, on what they needed to do.
Adam stepped to where the boats had been lowered. It is time.
He descended a rope ladder, careful to keep his movements quiet. Waves slapped against the ship’s hull, and the rowboat taking them ashore dipped and bobbed. Brief, hushed conversations reached Adam. He dropped into the boat and took his place at the bow. Behind him sat Evelyn Mason.
“Ready?” he asked the Rider in a low voice.
“Ready, sir,” Evelyn said.
Other than Brandon Thrum, who sailed aboard Demolition, everyone else who had scouted Arylyn earlier in the summer—Evelyn, Samuel, and Preeti—had been chosen for the invasion of the island. While their assistance had helped guide Adam’s steps to reach this point, he would have preferred Brandon’s presence. The young mahavan had a steady common sense to him. Unfortunately, Axel had insisted on the young mahavan’s presence aboard Demolition and had left Adam saddled with Evelyn, Samuel, and Preeti. The last two were timidity made flesh, and none of them offered anything but the most banal of advice: “The sun will rise soon.” “We’re upwind of them.”
Useless.
“Cast off,” Adam said to Evelyn.
The fiery Rider whispered a command and the drones manning the oars moved them steadily toward a golden-white shore.
Within moments, they reached the beach and swiftly disembarked. Adam splashed ashore and sent parties east and west to secure the site. No one could be allowed to learn of their arrival or raise an alarm to their presence.
Adam waited a nervous number of seconds until word finally reached him. The beach was theirs. He gestured, and his mahavans gathered their gear. The rowboats swiftly departed, returning to the waiting ships and bring back their next load of supplies.
He swung his attention back to the squat, rugged tower on the cliff. Arrow slits and a few wider holes pointed toward the ocean while a brick wall—ten feet tall—surrounded the structure on all sides, except where it ran into the cliff’s steep drop-off. Adam’s eyes narrowed, and he pointed to the tower. “We need to take that out,” he told Evelyn.
The Rider nodded, and she and fifteen others went for the tower.
A whispered command had Jeek Voshkov, Prime of the unformed tribe under Adam’s command, winging toward the structure as well. The creature took the form of a falcon, and four more of his kind flapped after him. Jeek’s Secondus, Reem Voshkov, remained behind with the bulk of the unformed, and Adam led them and the rest of his mahavans to encircle the tower. They had to cut off any escape.
It took them several minutes to scale the cliffs and reach their positions. Adam and his mahavans hid in scattered bunches in the surrounding jungle. They crouched low, yards from a cobblestone road that was wide enough for a wagon and led to the tower. The smell of mold and wet leaves filled the air. A soft wind rustled the trees, but no other sound marred the night. Even the jungle creatures knew to keep silent. They likely sensed the impending violence.
Adam watched as Jeek made a circuit of the tower. The prime dipped his wings twice, apparently gesturing to one of his unformed, who flew to Adam’s position. The creature landed and assumed the shape of a human. He could have passed for a slightly built, naked young man, and Adam briefly wondered if the unformed actually had a true form.
“We can find no one within the tower,” the unformed hissed in a harsh, sibilantly-accented voice.
“Good. Go to Evelyn,” Adam ordered. “Tell her to breach the entrance as silently as possible.”
“It will be done.” The unformed leapt into the air and transformed once more into a falcon. He swiftly flew to where Evelyn and her mahavans huddled behind a pile of stones that faced the sole entrance to the tower. The unformed landed and whispered a few words to Evelyn, who nodded and turned to speak to her mahavans. They shuffled closer to her, and Adam wondered what she was telling them.
He hoped she reminded them to be quiet.
At a sign from Evelyn, the mahavans rushed forward. An iron gate barred their path, and they blasted it off its hinges. Adam grimaced when it fell to the ground. The sound echoed loudly. From there, the mahavans swiftly reached the tower. They punched through the stout outer door leading within. This time, they managed it much more quietly and streamed inside.
Adam waited with crossed arms and a frown. Minutes ticked by. He let out an impatient breath.
The same unformed as from earlier finally returned, landing in front of him. “The tower is ours,” the creature said. “No one resides within, although they may have planned on manning it in the next few weeks. Many supplies have been laid out. They also left weapons behind.”
Adam’s interest piqued. “What kind of weapons?”
“Three cannons, or at least that’s what they might be. They’re not as small and porta
ble as ours.”
Adam bit back an oath. The magi have cannons. How? An unsettled sensation washed over him as he considered what that might mean. A moment later, he set aside his worry and realized the magi cannons represented an unexpected windfall. He smiled as he thought of how best to use them. “Excellent news. Good work.”
“Thank you.” The unformed smiled, and canines lengthened in his mouth. He wore a mocking grin.
Adam recognized the challenge for what it was and smiled in response. He lengthened his teeth as well, multiplied them until they resembled those of a shark.
The unformed shrank away.
William awoke in a cold sweat. His heart pounded, and his breathing came in gasps. Something was wrong. Something terrible lurked nearby.
He sourced his lorethasra and shaped a braid of Fire and Air. The lamp on the nightstand next to his bed glowed golden and brightened the room. He quested about, wondering what had awoken him. Everything was fine. A pair of twin beds flanked the dormer window, with a chest of drawers on the wall opposite. A ceiling fan stirred the air, and crickets chirped outside. A half-moon shone ivory light. William smelled jasmine when a stray breeze rustled the curtains of the open window.
Early on after they’d escaped to Arylyn, he and Jake had shared this room, but with time and healing, Jake had moved into his own bedroom. William now had this one to himself.
He went to the window, trying to figure out what had roused him. He gazed about the front yard, searching for what might be out of place. The flowers and stone pathway along the edge of the terrace, the wispy cascades of River Namaste, and the inky darkness of the Pacific. Nothing seemed off, but something was. William sensed danger. He stretched his senses, straining to figure it out.
Minutes passed, but nothing came to him, and he exhaled heavily in frustration. His instincts kept screaming at him. Something is wrong.
William paced the room, trying to understand what it might be. He wondered if it might be something wrong inside of him, and he focused internally.
Still nothing.
Frustration led to anger, and the monster inside his mind, the one he’d thought removed or buried deep, roared to life. It snarled, furious and clawing.
William clutched his head. The anger threatened to consume his thoughts, and he forced himself to breathe deep and slow, willing the fury to soothe, to relax and sleep. After a few minutes, it drifted away, but he could sense it stirring now and then, restless and untamed though it wasn’t as potent as he remembered.
Still, the matter of its return worried William. He needed to talk to someone. He quickly got dressed, paced down the hall, and knocked on Mr. Zeus’ bedroom door.
“What is it?” the old man grumbled.
William told him.
“Hold on,” Mr. Zeus said. Seconds later he opened the door, still in the process of tying off his robe. His beard and hair stuck out like a bird’s nest, and he frowned. “Let’s go to my study,” he said, and led the way downstairs. There, Mr. Zeus sourced his lorethasra. The warm scent of vanilla wafted, and an instant later a floor lamp lit.
Mr. Zeus gestured, and William took one of the leather chairs fronting the fireplace. “What did you sense?” Mr. Zeus asked.
“I’m not sure,” William said, “but the anger is back, so I figure it has to do with Shet or Sapient.”
Mr. Zeus’ gaze sharpened. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Then it’s a good thing you woke me up.” Mr. Zeus said. “I want you to close your eyes and reach for the anger.”
“You want me angry?” William asked in disbelief.
Mr. Zeus shook his head. “No. I want you to study the anger. Find the reason for why it awoke.”
William frowned in disquiet, and he hesitated.
“Whenever you’re ready,” Mr. Zeus said.
William nodded and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and reached for the anger. It slumbered, and he imagined it as a sleeping lion. He eased toward it, inching closer, careful not to awaken it. As he edged nearer, impressions came to him, of hunting and prey, of Shet’s exuberant call to war. Forever changing. Always restless. He struggled to understand what he was feeling.
More impressions. A soft place, warm and inviting, ripe for the kill. Forever changing. Always restless. Shapes altering.
His eyes snapped open. “Unformed,” he whispered.
Mr. Zeus’ scrutiny intensified. “What did you say?”
“Unformed,” William repeated. “I think they’re on Arylyn.”
“You’re certain?”
“No,” William said. “I’m not certain, but that’s the sense I got.”
Mr. Zeus eyed him for a moment and apparently came to a decision. “Get Rukh and Jessira. Tell them what’s happened. I’ll send Jake and Jason to rouse the council.”
Alarm stirred inside William. “What if it’s nothing?”
“What if it is something?” Mr. Zeus countered. “Go!”
William nodded and left the house at a jog. The moon’s beaming light guided his steps up the Main Stairs. Luminous clouds drifted sedately across the sky, and waterfalls misted and glowed with an unearthly light. Their crashing sounds were distant tonight as William swiftly passed silent terraces, sleeping homes, and ran across waterfall-slick stones. He pressed on, breathing smooth and easy like Travail taught. Better to maintain a steady pace than a sprint that ends in a walk.
While he jogged, he studied the anger within him again. Once more, sensations came to him. A notion of constant motion and change. A hunger for conquest, a match to the monster inside him, but different. Always shifting forms.
It had to be the unformed. He felt sure of it. They’d reached Arylyn.
He continued upward and onward, glad that Rukh and Jessira had moved from their isolated cabin north of Janaki Valley to an apartment on Clifftop directly off the Village Green. He shortly reached their home, knocked on the door, and waited.
Jessira opened the door. Her honey-blonde hair was tousled, and she wore a short, red-silk robe with a white slip showing underneath. It was oddly feminine attire for someone who William always considered a warrior first and a beautiful woman second.
“William?” She frowned at him. “What’s wrong?”
William explained.
“Come in.” Jessira opened the door wider, and he entered.
He almost ran into Rukh, who had exited the bedroom, already dressed and alert.
“Let me change first,” Jessira said. She went to the bedroom and closed the door.
Rukh spoke. “I heard some of what you said, but tell me everything you know, start to finish.”
For the third time that night, William repeated his story.
Rukh’s brows furrowed. “If what you sense is true, then we have unformed on Arylyn.”
Jessira exited the bedroom, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. She must have caught the tail end of the conversation. “Or he’s simply wrong about what he senses.”
“I think I’m right,” William said. “Certain of it.”
Jessira nodded. “Then they could have only arrived by anchor line or by ship.”
“They could have swum or flown,” William said.
“True,” Jessira acknowledged, “but swimming or flying would mean they came alone, with no mahavans to help them attack Arylyn. That wouldn’t make any sense.”
William was forced to agree with her. The unformed were here, and they likely had come under the command of the Servitor.
Jessira spoke again. “They likely arrived by ship then. Had it been by anchor line, the guards we’ve placed around Linchpin Knoll would have alerted us.”
Rukh grunted acknowledgment. “My thoughts as well. We have to awaken the council and rouse the Irregulars.”
A strange mix of excitement and apprehension built within William. This is it. “Jake and Jason have already started gathering the council.”
“Good,” Jessira said. “Then we need to gather the lieutenan
ts.”
Rukh finished her thought in that creepy way they had. “But not all the warriors. Not yet, anyway. We’ll assemble at the council chambers and lay out our options there.”
A thought came to William, one that left his mouth dry with sudden worry. “We’ve never planned what to do with Travail. Is there a way to warn him?”
“I wish there were,” Rukh said. “He travels so much, there’s no way to keep track of his movements.” His jaw tightened momentarily. “If he’d taken the satellite phone we offered, this wouldn’t be a concern.”
Jessira said, “Maybe we can get in touch with him once we know if and where the mahavans have landed.”
Rukh nodded. “We need to contact the watchtowers. Have them send out scouts and inform us the moment they learn anything.”
“Only a third of them are manned,” William reminded them.
Jessira shrugged. “Then those that are manned will have to do.”
Rukh moved to a table where a map of Arylyn lay spread out. He pointed. “They’ll likely have landed to the north. It’s the easiest access point. From there, they’ll likely press toward the heart of the island before setting south for Lilith. We’ll have to cut them off before they reach the village.”
“What happens now?” William asked.
Rukh’s demeanor went grim. “Now we wage war.”
BATTLE’S ARENA
October 1990
* * *
Stacey Cloud crouched low, hunching as close to the jungle floor as she could manage. She’d crept within spitting distance of the mahavans’ camp to peek around a fallen log. She flicked her vision across the encampment, trying to get an accurate count.
It had been two days since Rukh and Jessira had informed everyone that mahavans had landed in force upon Arylyn. Stacey and the rest of the scouts had mobilized to find the invaders. They’d begun their search at the unoccupied watchtowers and quickly discovered one of them—Ox Bow—breached and ransacked.
