Seeker's Light (The Tazalian Series)

by N. I. Snow

  Lutianist slowly rose from his cushioned chair beside one of the two tables in the room. The bent-backed Elder shuffled his feet over to a round pillar sitting in the middle of the room, his tail dragging against the cold, stone floor. Abilasso's clear, amber eyes noted a pile of neatly folded clothing on the table Lutianist had been sitting at. “Expecting someone?”

  Lutianist's bearded snout bobbed lightly as a dull claw pressed a button on the pillar. A holoscreen appeared above the pillar showing an image of Emma with data scrolling beside it detailing her attributes and history. “Zaharak will be arriving with a human child.”

  Abilasso stared wonderingly at the image. “A human? What for? I thought it clear that Salianos decreed the humans a threat to the Ancients' ways.”

  Lutianist let out a soft snort. “There is much that Salianos notions is a threat. However, I am told that this girl can translate the Ancients’ writings.”

  Abilasso's eyes widened, briefly losing their usual keen focus. “Finect! You are jesting! How is it possible after hundreds of standard years even you haven't been able to grasp the Ancients’ language and a human cub can fully interpret it?”

  Lutianist raised his snout as high as he could. Opening his arms wide he looked as though he was ready to call down a lightning bolt. “Etmau lehk, Abilasso, there is much knowledge to be gained in this galaxy. If my poor mind holds any more I will drop dead.”

  Abilasso chuckled as he examined the ancient-appearing Tazalian. “Indeed. How much older are you compared to me?”

  Lutianist dropped his thin arms to his side and gave Abilasso an annoyed look. “I am one hundred-and-thirty-five standard years your junior, kahleta, and you know it.”

  Abilasso managed a roguish grin as Lutianist shuffled back to his cushioned chair. “If you insist, Old One.” His amber eyes returned to their clear, focused but only briefly before being disrupted once more as he examined the stack of clothing. “Eteku! Are those our colors?”

  Lutianist gently lifted one of the articles of clothing. He unfolded the cloth to reveal a small dress hardly large enough to fit a very young Tazalian cub. The entire piece was made from a soft material similar to silk. A long white insert of cloth ran along the front of the red dress. Golden flowers with long, pointed petals were embroidered along the white panel. The embroidered stems crisscrossed one another to the hem of the gown. A thin mesh of maroon lace was woven along each side of the dress just below the long velvet sleeves.

  A smile of pride nearly split the ancient Tazalian's muzzle in half. His milky eyes had a mischievous gleam to them. “Like it? I crafted it myself. I doubt Zaharak will give the poor girl fresh clothing, so I took it upon myself to make sure she will have a new wardrobe awaiting her.”

  “I understand your concern for the human cub's well being. After all she is first and most likely the only creature in the universe to be able to interpret the Ancients’ writings. Who knows if we would find another translator again if anything were to happen to her; but, finect, Lutianist, you are giving her the colors of the Elders!” Abilasso brushed a hand furiously on his own red-and-white robes, “Salianos will...”

  “Salianos will agree with me,” Lutianist interrupted Abilasso calmly. He folded the dress back up and gently placed it with the others he had sewn. “It will remind him and our other brothers how important she is to us. Not to mention the Seekers need to be aware that they are to respect Emma. Am I not correct, Tigret?” The aged Elder seemingly asked himself.

  A shadow detached itself from between two relic compartments from behind Lutianist. Nothing could be seen of the Tazalian hidden in the folds of the hefty black cloak, not even its long tail. A sharp grating female voice escaped from the shrouds of the cloak's hood, “You are correct, Elder Lutianist.”

  Abilasso's eyes became focused once more as he turned his amber gaze to the shrouded Seeker, “Tigret, I did not see you there. May I inquire why you are here?”

  Lutianist answered the question for the cloaked Seeker, “She is guarding me.”

  Abilasso raised a bony ridge above one eye quizzically, “What for?”

  Lutianist eased his weary body back into his cushioned chair, half grunting his reply, “Jentra is guarding you as well, my friend.”

  Abilasso frowned and looked behind him to see another cloaked figure emerge from the shadows of the doorway. “What is this about?”

  Jentra's booming, deep voice echoed through the room as he answered the Elder's question, “We have been given orders by the High Elder to guard each of you.”

  “Guard us from what exactly,” Abilasso growled indignantly. The absurdity! He and the other Elders were the first seven Seekers of Tazal. They needed no protection.

  Lutianist closed his eyes and answered for Jentra, “Kahluna is alive and she is following Zaharak. Salianos has ordered the five Seekers to guard us from her.”

  Abilasso looked over at the ancient Elder letting out an angry snort. “Kahluna? That traitor is still alive? Four Elders are more than enough to take care of her.”

  Lutianist's voice became softer as he began to drift back into a slumber, “You never did tell me why you came here, Abilasso.”

  Abilasso wondered if Lutianist even heard him as he replied, “I was wondering if you had any news from the fleet. As always you know more than I.”

  Then seeing that Lutianist had drifted off, Abilasso turned on one sandaled foot and walked toward the tall, sliding doors of Lutianist's study. The veiled Jentra had already melted back into the shadows. As the doors slid open Tigret's rough, stony voice called to him, “What is most interesting, Elder Abilasso, is that Lutianist never received a transmission from Salianos. Nor have the other four or myself told him about our mission.”

  Abilasso scoffed. “Lutianist has his ways, Tigret. Not even Salianos can understand how our aging brother obtains his information and you would only distract yourself by trying to figure out his secret.”

  Lutianist hid a smile that began to creep onto his withered snout. Letting out a soft snore, he continued feigning sleep as he listened in on the two Tazalians' conversation. Oh, yes, Abilasso, old Lutianist has his ways.

  Eleven

  Emma shivered as she tried to curl into a tight ball for warmth. It was her fifth night aboard the nightmare ship. She had been asleep for perhaps four hours when the icy air bore into her body. Shivering violently she sat up, pulling her knees to her chest. She felt like she was in the center of an iceberg. Grabbing her worn socks from her shoes next to her, she quickly pulled them over her numb toes.

  “Are the atmospheric regulators out?” she asked loudly.

  The new Valkyrie A.I. gave her a short emotionless reply, “Zaharak adjusts the thermals every three to five days to keep his body accustomed to different conditions.”

  “So Tazalians aren't cold blooded,” Emma looked up at the roof of her cell.

  The Valkyrie made an electronic version of a snort. “Tazalians may share some similarities in appearance to the reptiles on your planet, but that is as far as it goes.”

  Emma frowned and tucked her hands beneath her arms, “He does know that humans cannot survive long in temperatures below ten degrees Celsius.”

  “He does,” the A.I. replied tersely.

  Emma pulled her knees closer, trying without prevailing to keep herself warm. The A.I.'s remark was enough for her to assume Zaharak wasn't going to change the atmospheric controls for her. Teeth chattering she began singing a soft, wordless song to herself in order to keep her mind off of the cold, her breath forming small puffs of mist. At this rate she would arrive at Tazal as a human icicle.

  Zaharak's muscled arms bulged as he pulled his body over a bar hanging from the roof of his personal cabin. His tail was curved beneath him to form an extra weight as he lowered his body and lifted it once more. The four scars on his bare torso stretched and shrank with each motion. The slitted pupils in his golden eyes were narrowed into slivers. His thin mouth remained impassive with each breath. Th
e freezing air remained unnoticed by him as he continued through his routine training.

  He was halfway in an upward pull toward raising his broad chest above the bar when his sharp ears caught the sound of a soft, singing voice. The thick muscles on his arms kept their strength as they held the weight of his body suspended while he listened to the sound. The young girl's song was intriguing. The song lacked words, yet it painted a brilliant scene in his mind. He had heard that song before, yet he could not recall from where.

  The Seeker pushed himself away from the bar, letting his body drop to the floor. He landed with cat-like grace, the pads of his bare, clawed, three-toed feet absorbing most of the shock. He unfurled his long tail while straightening his spike-lined back.

  Still listening to Emma's voice, he walked over to a hidden compartment set inside a wall across from him. At his presence a panel slid open to show rows of near-empty metal shelves. He removed a tan thermal blanket from the top-most shelf. Turning he walked silently to the doorway leading out of the room.

  Emma looked up at the golden eyes of the gray-scaled Tazalian who appeared wraith-like in front of her. The last note of her song hung frozen in the frigid air. Her gray eyes took note of the blanket draped across one of Zaharak's bare arms. The Seeker stared down at her for an uncomfortable amount of time. Emma shifted her feet nervously.

  Finally Zaharak's detached voice broke the ice, “That song of yours. Where did you learn it?”

  Emma blinked. Had she heard him correctly? Why in all the universe did the murderous Seeker want to know about a song? Her gray eyes betrayed her bewilderment as she replied, “I have always known it, ever since I can remember.”

  A cloudy haze formed in Zaharak's golden eyes. For a brief moment Emma thought the impassive Seeker was about to break. However, the haze dispersed as he passed through the plasma panels. He tossed the blanket to her which she caught with both hands. It was made from a thin, light material, so light Emma doubted would keep her warm enough. Surprisingly when she threw the blanket around her shoulders the cold air no longer touched her skin.

  Zaharak stepped out of the cell while Emma burrowed into the blanket. Her gray eyes followed him with a mixture of gratitude and confusion. She knew, of course, he had only given her the blanket so that she would not freeze to death and ruin his pristine reputation. Still, it caught her off guard; she had gotten used to his nonchalant attitude. “I suppose now you will bring me new clothes,” she voiced sarcastically.

  “Do you need them in order to stay alive?” Zaharak's cold voice questioned.

  “Well, not exactly.”

  “Then I have no reason to craft any new clothing for you,” Zaharak retorted before turning and melting into the dark hallway.

  Emma glared after the Seeker. He could at least give her something to do to keep her from going mad with boredom. Standing up she kept the blanket tight around her body while she gazed once more around the room. She had given up trying to see what lay hidden in the shadows. The light from the plasma panels made it nigh impossible for her to see anything a meter past them. Looking at the panels, an idea slowly formed into her head. She might not be able to escape, but at least she could try to put a dent in Zaharak's ego. And her idea would be something to occupy her mind.

  Smiling mischievously she picked up her shoes while talking to herself in a mock impression of Zaharak's guttural voice, “My prison cell is foolproof! No one has ever broken out!”

  Emma readied her arm to throw one of her shoes at the plasma panel in front of her. Now talking to herself in her normal voice, “Well we will just see about that.”

  The young girl dove to the ground when the shoe bounced away from the panel. It landed next to her with wisps of smoke rising from the soles. Emma looked at the smoldering shoe with wide eyes. Bad idea. Pushing herself up from the ground, she made sure the thermal blanket still rested on her shoulders. Zaharak hadn't lied when he told her the panels would knock her to the ground from a single touch. Clutching her remaining shoe tightly, she gazed towards the control panel; time for a new plan.

  She was unaware of the golden eyes watching her antics with amusement through the ship's monitors. Stepping towards the plasma barrier, Emma clutched her shoe with both hands. If she put all her weight against the barrier's power she might be able to breach the defense and hopefully hit the release on the control panel. Bracing herself she pushed the shoe through the plasma panel. Amazingly, she managed to get the shoe halfway through before being flung through the air. She landed painfully on the cold steel floor with the top of her head only inches from the plasma barrier she had once been across from.

  Each breath was like a knife stabbing into her chest as she tried to sit up. Her head pounded as blood rushed to her face. That was a stupid idea. Emma's gray eyes glared painfully at the now half-melted shoe lying across from her. How was it that the panels could tell bowls, plates, and other objects Zaharak brought to her from her own shoe? Painfully she stood up and walked over to where the thermal blanket had fallen. After sitting down and re-wrapping herself in the blanket, she examined every inch of the plasma panels; she would find a weak spot. Gradually an idea formed in her mind. She would wait for Zaharak to bring her food. The plate the Seeker used could pass easily through the barrier. She could use it to deactivate the barrier, or so she thought.

  When Zaharak did bring her meal, Emma quickly emptied the contents onto the floor. Stepping towards the barrier, she inhaled a deep breath. Exhaling, she braced herself as she passed the plate through the barrier. Her heart pounded as inch by inch she moved the plate above the control panel.

  Just as she was about to release her hold on the plate, a burst of energy surged through her body. Her hands released their hold on the plate as her body flew backwards across the cell. The last thing she remembered before blacking out was landing painfully on the cold, hard floor of the cell.

  Gray scales a blur, Zaharak sprang to life. Bounding out of the study bay to the aft, the Seeker gritted his fangs. Stupid girl! He had been watching her attempt to break free. Clever as it had been, it was futile. Even if the plate had hit the release, a pass code was still needed to deactivate the barriers. Now he had to ensure the girl had not killed herself during her attempt to best him.

  As he stepped into the holding room, he snatched a medical kit from the wall next to the doorway. Walking over to the cell, he noted that Emma was not breathing. He stepped easily through the plasma barrier and knelt beside the girl. Setting the medical kit down, he pressed a button on the top. The kit opened to reveal an assortment of medical devices. The Seeker's sharp claws removed a large breathing apparatus. He set the device on the girl’s face nearly covering her pale features.

  As the breathing apparatus pumped air into Emma's lungs, Zaharak removed a small, paper-thin box, hardly larger than one of Emma's hands, from the kit. Zaharak set the box on Emma's right arm. Her arm twitched as needles shot out from the bottom of the device and embedded themselves deep into her skin. Images appeared on a holoscreen in the front of the box. The Seeker's golden eyes scanned the readings on the screen. The human's pulse was steady as it worked to carry blood through her body, and her lungs began to expand and contract on their own, prompting Zaharak to remove the respirator.

  Despite his having managed to get Emma breathing once more, the girl still lay unconscious. This didn't surprise Zaharak one bit. It would take time for her to recover from the burst from the barriers. Double checking Emma's vitals, Zaharak recovered the thermal blanket from the other side of the cell. He threw it over the girl making sure it covered her entire body. The blanket would keep her body heat at a constant temperature, even when the atmospheric controls were set to heat the air to near boiling. Gathering the medical kit, Zaharak stepped out of the cell. He gave Emma’s covered form a single fleeting glance before vanishing down the hallway.

  A song filled Emma's ears, a familiar lullaby flowing through the air like a gentle breeze. Emma looked around the darkness closin
g in upon her for the source of the sound. It took her sometime to realize the song was coming from her own mind. Of course it was; after all it was the only song she sang to herself when she needed to ease her mind. No one else knew the song save for her parents and Jonah.

  “And another,” replied a calm, deep voice from the shadows.

  Emma frowned and looked around the darkness, “Who said that?”

  A foggy figure of a Tazalian appeared before her. Emma's breath caught in her throat. It was one of the Ancients. The calm voice spoke from the figure, “It has been sometime since our last visit, young Emma.”

  Emma recognized the voice from the pyramid. She had not heard it since that moment, but she still remembered it. “What do you want?” Emma couldn't hide the annoyance in her voice.

  The song continued to play in her head despite the Ancient's voice cutting through her thoughts, “I acknowledge your contempt, young one. We have asked much of you, but when the time comes you will understand why these events are unfolding as they are.”

  Emma folded her arms, her gray eyes narrowed. “When you first showed up, you gave Jonah and me a job to protect the secrets in the relic. Now I am being taken to Tazal to unlock those secrets for Salianos and the Elders. Whatever data is on the relic you gave us can't possibly be much good anymore.”

  The figure shook its head. “The secrets stored on that relic are more valuable than you realize. Kahluna did well in keeping you apart from one another.”

  “Why? What is recorded on it exactly?”

  The figure held its arms out wide. “The Gaia's exact known location.”

  Emma paused. “You did find it?” Her words were more of a statement than a question. They had lied to her and Jonah.

  “We did not lie to you. Indeed, we did find the general location of the Light, but it destroyed us before we found it,” the shadow lowered its arms, “If we were to tell you the Light's location now, there would be no stopping Salianos from extracting that knowledge from you.”