William Wilde and the Sons of Deceit

by Davis Ashura

  “What happened?” Serena asked, glancing about. The area near the Main Stairs held swatches of destruction. Flames leapt from crumbled buildings while ragged holes pockmarked many of the streets. Everywhere people raced about, many carrying the injured or the dead. Serena’s stomach lurched at the latter. It was worse than she had feared.

  “We got chewed up,” Karla said. Her face, normally happy and friendly, held a bitter cast, and her jaw clenched. “Ward’s Irregulars held Sita’s Song, but the damn mahavans went cross country. They cut behind Ward and hurt us. They had cannons. None of us were looking back until it was too late.”

  Serena’s head slumped. “How many died?”

  “Hundreds,” Karla said. “We’re still figuring it out.” Again, her jaw clenched. “If Rukh had held back more of the Irregulars, this wouldn’t have happened.”

  Serena shot the woman an angry glare, not believing she would actually blame Rukh for this disaster. “Rukh did hold back some Irregulars. Fifty of them. The cannon crews. Didn’t you say that no one was looking back?”

  Karla scowled. “Sure, but why weren’t we defending Sita’s Song? Where was Jessira?”

  “Killing the Sinskrill fleet,” Serena said, “and nearly dying for her trouble. Besides which, remember this. If it wasn’t for Rukh and Jessira, the mahavans and unformed would have killed us all.” Karla opened her mouth as if to respond but Serena cut her off. She was already tired of this conversation. “Now isn’t the time to assign blame. Do you know if William and Selene made it through?”

  “William and Jake did,” Karla said. “So did Mr. Zeus and Ms. Sioned.” She swallowed. “Afa died. I heard it from Daniella.”

  Serena swore softly. She’d always liked the old raha’asra. He’d been among the first to have faith in her. “Who else?” she asked.

  “Too many.”

  “Selene?”

  Karla shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. I can ask around.”

  “Thank you,” Serena said, forcing gratitude into her voice although she remained annoyed at Karla’s attitude toward Rukh. “I’ll be at the triage center. I’ll heal whoever I can.”

  Karla nodded. “Good luck.”

  Serena pushed past the other woman and made her way alone to Linchpin Knoll. The destruction intensified the farther north she went. People still worked to control the blazes, weaving Water and Earth to douse the fires. Others worked in bubbles of Air hardened with Earth to protect themselves from the heat as they carefully pushed into fallen buildings and tried to free those who remained trapped within them. Braids of all kinds hissed, rustled, rumbled, and flared as the rescue attempts continued. Their sounds and smells mixed with the smoke and ashes of Lilith’s desolation.

  Serena might have paused to help, but something called her on. An inexplicable need to reach Linchpin Knoll suffused her thoughts. She bypassed wrecked buildings that had collapsed into the street and rushed past the injured being taken to the triage center.

  She reached Linchpin Knoll and entered a scene of madness. People screamed in pain. Others shouted for help. The uninjured rushed about, doing their best to bring relief to the suffering. Healing braids for burns. Bandages and compresses for wounds. Puddles of blood all around. The stench of it overwhelmed the smoke and soot.

  Serena wanted to find someone in charge, and she slowly panned across the chaos. Mr. Zeus and Mayor Care seemed to be directing aid the injured. Bar Duba, as well. She saw Rukh working feverishly. He crouched next to a man, his hands lit and glowing with the lightning of his Healing. An instant later, he discharged it, and the man’s back arched like a bow. He slowly relaxed, and Rukh settled back, fatigue marring his features.

  Serena gazed about, wondering how she could help.

  She saw a familiar form then, and her heart eased. William. He knelt beside a small form, and the easing in Serena’s heart became a tightness. William clutched the figure’s hands, and Serena knew who she would find lying in front of him. Selene.

  Terror filled Serena, and she rushed to William’s side. He pulled her into his embrace and held her wordlessly. She held in a cry, but frowned in confusion when she beheld the girl with whom he sat. She didn’t know this person.

  An instant later, her eyes widened in recognition. It was Selene. Her sister, normally dark-skinned, dark-haired, and dark-eyed, now had pale features, reddish-blonde hair, and icy-blue eyes. Selene smiled briefly before slumbering again.

  Serena pushed down the fear. “What happened to her?”

  William shook his head. “She’s been stripped.”

  EPILOGUE

  December 1990

  * * *

  William stepped out of the T-bird, flipped the front seat forward, and helped Selene exit the vehicle. She stepped onto the driveway of Jake’s family’s home in the Far Beyond and glanced at the surroundings. Her face held an impassive, seemingly bored countenance—a teenager’s typical world-weariness—somehow mixed with the flat mask of a drone.

  William knew Selene too well. He knew how hard she struggled to control her sorrow. He could see the grief and fear lurking behind her clear, sky-blue eyes.

  Serena, Jake, and Elliot disembarked the vehicle as well, and they too, gazed about, likely staring at the Christmas decorations adorning most of the large homes on their large lots. Despite it only being late afternoon, some of the ornaments had already been plugged in and lit. Gray clouds scudded across the sky, and an ill wind carried the scent of a wood fire from the neighbor’s fireplace across the street. It was all a world away from Arylyn’s warmth and golden sunshine, from Lilith’s normal Christmas displays such as the tree covered with ever-changing lights, chiming bells, and scents to remind a person of home.

  This place in the Far Beyond would now be Selene and Elliot’s home.

  The last shell, the Servitor’s parting shot, launched from Demolition, hadn’t done damage to Lilith’s buildings, terraces, and streets. Instead, it had done far worse. Rather than rip apart structures, it had ripped apart people. Most who had stood outside when that final shot had burst had been wise enough to form a barrier of Air between themselves and the falling ash. Otherwise, the losses would have been far more horrific.

  But nearly fifty people hadn’t been as fortunate. They’d remained unprotected from that ashen snowfall, which had tormented them with hours of fiery agony. When it finally ended they had awakened to a worse pain. Their ability to use or even sense lorethasra had been erased. It was more horrific than a normal stripping. The Servitor’s final shell had torn away their lives, burned them out, and left them as broken shells of who they had once been. They couldn’t stay long on Arylyn. The nomasras that might have protected them from the island’s lorasra didn’t work on them. Their only choice was exile.

  As soon as they realized the extent of their loss, nine of those affected had leapt to their deaths from Clifftop, twenty-six had taken sedatives from which they never awakened, and another eleven had sailed a boat into the ocean and never came back.

  Only Selene and Elliot hadn’t taken their lives. They’d been moved off-island to stay in an apartment in Cincinnati with Serena until their situation could be figured out. They couldn’t return to Arylyn, but they also needed a place to live and grow up. Jake’s parents had agreed to take them in.

  An icy wind blew, and Selene clutched her coat tightly about herself. Her pale features scrunched in distaste as she shivered. “I’d forgotten what it was like to be cold.” Her voice came out husky, another change. Nevertheless, she remained a budding beauty.

  “Do you think they’ll put up the Christmas tree on Arylyn this year?” Selene asked.

  “I doubt it,” William replied.

  With all the destruction, no celebrations or displays had been readied. Everyone had more important matters to take care of. If it had only been the buildings leveled, the bridges torn down, and the streets ripped apart, maybe people would have still wanted to celebrate. But with a final tally of over seven hundred dead, a full ten
percent of the population, no one much felt like ringing in the holidays. Every family had lost someone dear to them.

  Selene shivered again. “I hate being cold.”

  William smiled at her, hoping to lift her mood. “Daniel hated this weather, too.”

  Jake sighed. “Let’s go on in,” he said, his voice as dull as Selene’s features.

  William wanted to kick himself.

  Jake hadn’t seen Daniel die, but he had been the one to inform Lien and the Karllsons. He’d been the one who’d held Lien while she cried, and he remained haunted by the images of all the death he’d endured.

  They all were. William felt it no less than any of them, but he’d forced himself to ignore the pain in his heart, to drown it under layers of work and commitments. He wanted nothing more than to forget it all, and some days his plan worked. He could pretend nothing was wrong. Other times, though—many times—the nightmares found him, day or night, trapping him in visions of blood and terror. He couldn’t unsee Daniel’s broken body or put away the horror of killing someone.

  Elliot shivered. “Does it ever warm up?” He held himself every bit as bravely as Selene, but William could tell that the changes in his life, left him wounded and hurting every bit as much as Selene. He’d also been marked with a lightening of his skin and hair, but not to the same extent as Selene.

  William answered, “In the spring.”

  “When’s that?” Elliot asked.

  “About four months from now.” William forced another smile. “Not too long, and when it comes, it feels so incredible. You’ll want to dance in the street.”

  “I wish my parents could have come,” Elliot said.

  “I wish they could have, too,” William said, “but you know why.”

  Elliot’s parents couldn’t survive in the Far Beyond for longer than a few days, even with nomasras. Some asrasins were like that.

  Serena went to Selene. “I’ll visit you all the time,” she promised.

  “We all will,” William said. “Nothing’s more important than making sure you’re happy.” Sinskrill and the mahavans could wait. Lilith needed rebuilding, and so did his heart. He would miss the girl he’d come to think of as a little sister.

  Serena embraced Selene. “I love you. I always will.”

  Jake spoke up from the front porch. “Goodbyes are for tomorrow. Let’s go inside.”

  Serena shot him a questioning look. “What about your parents? They said I’m not allowed . . .”

  Jake waved aside her worries. “I called them when we stopped for gas. They’ll have to let you see Selene. They can’t keep you away from her and Elliot.” Jake ruffled Selene’s hair. “Isn’t that right, Tiny?”

  Upon hearing Jake’s explanation, William exhaled softly in relief. Selene would have it hard enough with all the changes she had to endure. To be denied her sister’s presence in her life would have been a blow too much to endure.

  He silently studied Elliot and wondered how the boy would get along. He had his parents, who he could only see rarely. They were his only family. Life for him would be much harder.

  William made a mental note to try and get to know the boy better. He couldn’t replace Elliot’s family, but an extra friend was always a good thing.

  Selene studied Jake’s house and managed a smile. “At least I’ll get to live somewhere nice,” she said, obviously pretending to see the bright side of things.

  “Somewhere nice,” Elliot repeated, his voice wistful, “but not home.”

  His eyes glistened, and Selene slipped her hand into his. Together, they climbed the steps to the front door.

  Demolition limped into Village White Sun’s harbor. A ceiling of mournful clouds hung over the hamlet, and mist clung to the buildings and streets. It blurred the images of the distant, rugged foothills and left them vague in shape and structure. Icicles gathered upon the eaves of the various hovels, hanging like spears, Other than smoke rising from several chimneys, Village White Sun could have been deserted.

  Adam stared about, wondering what the drones were doing. Probably huddling next to warm fires. They certainly couldn’t work outside on such a dismal day.

  As if to punctuate his thoughts, an icy wind blew the rain sideways and soaked his face. He grimaced but didn’t bother pulling his coat more tightly about himself. He had returned home and home had no room for weakness. Besides, the rain and horrible weather greeting them seemed apropos given the disaster they’d endured on Arylyn.

  Two hundred warriors had traveled to Lilith but only twenty returned. It was the same with the unformed. Of the roughly fifty who had made the journey to Arylyn, only three had survived. They’d kept to themselves the entire way home to Sinskrill, remaining in their quarters, but as soon as the island hove into view, their Prime, Jeek Voshkov, had asked for permission to leave. Adam’s brother had granted it, and before the final syllable had left Axel’s mouth, the unformed had flown north.

  Adam’s eyes narrowed when he noticed a few hardy individuals waiting for them at the frozen docks, a half-dozen drones and five mahavans. He also noticed the consternation on their faces when Demolition tied off and the bare score of mahavans disembarked the ship. Some of the mahavans on shore craned their necks as if questing for the rest of the vessels of their proud fleet or the other warriors who had taken part in the attack on Arylyn.

  Adam readied to depart.

  “Hold a moment,” Axel said.

  Adam paused, standing at the railing alongside his brother. He faced Village White Sun, waiting until no one else remained aboard ship. He disregarded the biting wind and stinging rain as he waited for his brother to speak.

  Axel clutched his Spear as if it were a lifeline. “We did not strike a mortal blow upon the magi.”

  Adam had no reply. His brother’s statement was an obvious fact, something they’d long-since acknowledged.

  “The magi will come for us,” Axel continued. “After what we did, they’ll have to.”

  Adam nodded in agreement. He recalled the words of a Japanese admiral in a movie he’d seen in the Far Beyond: I fear we have only wakened a sleeping giant, and filled him with a terrible resolve. “If they do, we won’t have the numbers to defeat them. Whether they attack by land or anchor line—”

  Axel’s head jerked up. “How would they attack by anchor line? They don’t know the key to open it.”

  Adam shrugged. “A poor choice of words. I was merely pointing out our weakened state, our inability to defeat them no matter the direction from which they come for us.”

  Axel eyed him, and Adam sensed his brother’s mistrust. It was said that the Servitor could peer into a man’s heart. Then again it was also said that the Servitor was undefeatable, and yet twice, possibly thrice depending on how one counted such matters, he had been defeated by the magi.

  Still, the Servitor was a power, a fearsome one, and Adam knew better than to allow his traitorous thoughts to reveal themselves on his face. Therefore, rather than anger or scorn he held himself still, wearing a composed, mildly curious expression.

  Axel continued to stare at him in suspicion, and his eyes narrowed. “How did the unformed die?”

  Adam bit back a sigh of impatience. He’d already explained what had happened on that accursed island many times. Nevertheless, he once again recited what he’d seen of the battle’s finale. “William can create powerful lightning. Other than your own, it’s more pure than anything I’ve ever seen. It stabbed out and killed the unformed, all of them, the eight who survived Rukh and his damnable cats.”

  “When you knew the odds were against you, why didn’t you fly straight to Demolition? Why go overland?”

  Adam had also explained this, but he did so again, careful to keep his tone even and smooth. “The unformed were fatigued. I had them take the form of horses. We had to conserve our strength. I thought to raid Lilith and kill as many magi as possible before rejoining the fleet.”

  Axel grunted when he finished. “I can understand your t
hinking. It wasn’t right or wrong. A bad choice amongst no good ones.” He scowled. “You understand how Shet will respond when we tell him of our failure?”

  Adam eyes widened in disbelief. Tell Shet . . . Why? “Then tell him nothing,” he urged. “Don’t use the Spear to travel to Seminal. He’s coming to Sinskrill no matter what we say or do. Let him find out what happened then.”

  Axel wore a strange smile. “No. I can’t risk his wrath by simply ignoring him. We can still survive this.”

  “How?” Adam asked, unable to hold back the challenge in his voice.

  Axel chose to disregard his disrespectful tone. “I’ll tell him that we killed thousands of magi and only lost several hundred mahavan.”

  Adam frowned. “He’ll still see it is a failure.”

  “Perhaps,” Axel said, “but we’ll also tell him that once we realized we couldn’t entirely destroy the magi with the resources at our disposal, we decided to wait for his aid. We’ll kill them all then.”

  Adam shook his head. “He’ll see through the lie.”

  “What lie?” Axel countered. “Everything I said is the truth. We did strike a great blow.”

  “What about the magi themselves, then?” Adam asked. “You said they would come for us. How will we stop them with our seventy remaining mahavans, eight hundred drones, and fifty unformed?”

  “We leveled their village,” Axel said. “According to your report and that of Jeek Voshkov, we killed hundreds of them. By the time the magi recover and come after us, we’ll be ready. Within a year, those eight hundred drones will become several hundred mahavans, all of them trained to kill.” Axel smiled, chill and pleased. “We’ll also have an advantage that the magi will never expect.”

  Adam frowned in confusion. “What advantage?”

  “All of Shet’s creatures on this world answer to me,” Axel said. “They will obey my summons.”