The Chronicles of Lorrek Box Set

by Kelly Blanchard

  He took the helmet from her. “I don’t plan to wear it for that long.”

  “I know.” She watched him put on the helmet and saw how the seams of the helmet blended with the rest of the armor. Her gaze shifted to the visor—black and reflective. “It might take a moment for you to learn to understand all the data it feeds you, but don’t overthink it. Most of the information is logical, and you should take what you need and ignore the rest.”

  Her voice sounded sharper now that he wore the helmet, and it was irritating. “Normalizing sound.” A voice in the helmet caused him to jolt back and look around for a person, but all he saw were numerous readings of length, distance, height, and calculations all around the room. He took a step back, disoriented.

  “Theran? Prince Theran?” Asalda’s voice came again, and she sounded concerned.

  Theran looked at her, and he saw the computer in the helmet take the measurements of her face until it designed a rotating holographic image of her then labeled her as ‘Asalda’. It also gave him readings of her blood pressure, heart rate, and breathing pattern.

  “Prince Theran!”

  And it provided a visual track of her voice, which spiked just now.

  Overwhelmed with all this information, Theran took a slow, steady breath then exhaled just as calmly. He decided to do as Asalda had suggested and simply ignored all the information the suit gave him. He fixed his eyes on the woman. “I was informed this suit gives the wearer a special ability. When does that ability awaken?”

  “Already craving power, I see.” Asalda smirked at him then gestured for him to follow as she led the way out of the room. “Come—let’s go to the testing room and see what ability we can unlock.”

  Theran followed. He was surprised by how naturally the movement came, but the constant calculations and data scrolling across his visor was distracting. “How can anyone focus with this?” He muttered under his breath.

  “What was that?” Asalda lifted a brow as she waited for him to catch up, but Theran shook his head.

  “Just talking to myself.”

  Asalda nodded then led him into the training arena of the Guardians. He looked up and saw the observation deck where he had watched several Guardians train and where Asalda had told him the truth about the Guardians. Back then, he looked down here wondering what it might be like in the actual arena, but he had never imagined he would be standing here today.

  He turned and saw Asalda walking away. “Wait—where are you going?” He reached out to her, but she was already out of reach.

  She smiled at him when she turned back then pointed at the observation deck. “I will be watching. Since we don’t know what power you may unleash, certain precautions must be taken. Not to worry, Prince Theran, you will be perfectly safe.” With that, she stepped back into the lift and nodded at the prince before the doors slid shut in front of her.

  As soon as she was off the floor, the lights dimmed, and Theran lowered his stance and glimpsed around, expecting an attack from any corner.

  To his surprise the floor began to shift, and Theran stepped out of the way as pillars arose from beneath the floor. Staggered platforms lowered from the ceiling, and walls formed all around him. “Like a maze,” he realized.

  “Beginning Sequence One,” a computerized voice sounded in the room. “Objective: endurance.”

  Theran didn’t like the sound of that, but the room began to move, so he darted forward. A wall appeared before him, and he tried to jump over it but only managed to grab the top of it, so he pulled himself up. Now that he was up higher he saw the pieces moving like an ever-changing puzzle. Data in his helmet provided him with the distance of each wall and pillar, their height, exact position and location, and tracked the movement of each element in the room.

  The wall beneath him crumbled, and Theran rolled to his feet and kept going.

  In a corridor, walls began to close in, and Theran fought his way free, but just as he was in the clear, a pillar came crashing down. He jumped to the side to avoid it only to wobble as the floor gave away behind him. He tottered back—arms windmilling to catch his balance—and he looked back at the gaping, endless hole in the middle of the floor.

  Finally, he caught his balance and took the opportunity to look at the hole. “Seriously?” He shot Pelham and Asalda a glare, but the computerized voice spoke again.

  “Sequence One completed. Power options: gravity control—negative. Elemental manipulation—negative. Tele-kinesis—negative. Super speed—negative,” and she went on to list other powers the sequence had tested without Theran’s knowledge. “Sequence Two begins. Objective: offensive.” That made no sense to Theran whatsoever, but the room began to change again—floor rebuilt, and this time the walls rose lined with guns and cannons.

  “Oh, this can’t be good.” Theran began to backtrack then broke into a run as the weapons fired at him.

  He dodged here and there, then jumped over a pile of debris, and ducked behind it. He reached for his handblade at his wrist only to find it gone and recalled that he had given it to Vixen a while back. Muttering under his breath, he reached to his side for a sword but found no weapon. After patting down his suit for any hidden weapons, he growled when he realized he was weaponless.

  “Theran,” Asalda’s voice sounded in his helmet, “you must disarm the cannons by shooting them.”

  “Shooting them with what?” Theran snapped. “I don’t have any weapons!”

  The shooting and blasts continued but for a moment, and then silenced reigned in the room. “Sequence Two completed. Power options: metal—negative. Ice—negative. Glass—negative. Fire—negative. Electricity—negative,” and so the list went on until Theran wondered if there was any power he might have at all.

  “Sequence Three begins. Objective: defensive.”

  “And the difference between an offensive defense and simple defense would be...?” Theran cocked his head but stayed in position as the room shifted once again—walls lowering and pillars disappearing. Across the way he saw a door open and a Guardian emerge. Theran thinned his eyes. “Of course—one-on-one, why not?” He pushed himself to his feet.

  He knew by the strides that the Guardian was male, but he didn’t recognize him. The technology in Theran’s suit identified him as Mitron and listed his ability as metal. Theran didn’t like the thought of that but watched as the Guardian conjured two small throwing knives in his hands. For once, Theran was grateful Honroth had insisted Vixen accompany him on his search for Lorrek all those years. Throwing knives, he could handle.

  “Sequence Three begins now.”

  Mitron needed no further prompting but sank into a fighting stance and flung his blades at Theran, who twisted his body to avoid the first two and then snatched the third out of the air.

  It crumpled in his fist.

  Confused, both Theran and Mitron shared a look though neither could see the look through the visors they wore. “Hmm...I wonder...” Theran poured the metal dust onto the floor, lowered his stance, and motioned for Mitron to come at him again.

  A sudden shield grew out of Mitron’s arm as a sword slid out of his hand, “Like a handblade,” Theran realized but was yanked out of his thoughts as he watched the Guardian’s charge.

  One, two, three steps, and then Theran shouted and dove, meeting Mitron halfway.

  Theran slammed his fist onto the shield then watched as a crack snaked around his fist then splintered the shield.

  Mitron stared, surprised, but then recovered and slashed his sword up to cut Theran across the throat, but Theran blocked it with his arm and watched as the blade broke in two at his touch.

  Beneath his helmet, he smirked. “I think I found my power.” He reached up and snatched Mitron’s wrist then listened as it snapped. Mitron howled then yanked his arm close to himself as he pulled away from Theran.

  Now full of confidence that a single touch could maim his opponent, the prince of Cuskelom stood straighter—ready for an attack and curious to see the f
ull potential of his power.

  However, the lights brightened in the room, and the arena returned to its original barren state. “Sequence complete. Ability determined: break by touch. Guardians, please exit the arena.”

  Mitron backed away without complaint, but Theran curled his fingers into a fist and turned to face the observation deck. “You’re stopping the sequence now? We don’t know the full scope of this power!”

  Pelham leaned forward to a microphone on the control panel and tapped it to ensure that it was working. Once satisfied, he addressed Theran. “All Guardians have been summoned to command to be briefed on the conditions of the new terms of the Guardian Games. We need Guardian Mitron whole for that, so he will see a healer immediately.”

  Theran opened his mouth, but suddenly all the lights went out.

  After a moment, the lights returned but at a dimmer level, and a male voice came over the intercom system. “Intruder Alert. Systems have been hacked. All security personnel report to Ops.”

  As the announcement repeated, Theran watched Asalda cast Pelham a worried look, and Pelham frowned. Theran placed a hand on his hip and gave them a look. “You’re going to need my help with this.”

  Asalda opened her mouth, ready to protest, but Pelham stilled her hand from reaching the microphone. He said something Theran couldn’t hear, and after a moment, Asalda gave a nod and Pelham responded to Theran. “We have another assignment for you. How would you like to see your powers on full display in a battlefield?”

  This sounded intriguing, so Theran smiled. “Very well.” He left the arena.

  23

  In the corridor several levels down, Vixen paused as the lights went off and then returned, and an announcement was made over the intercom. She brought her hand to her ear. “Lyston, was that you?”

  Several floors up, and down a different corridor through a door leading to a darkened room full of blinking lights of technology, Lyston opened panels and plugged in different drives. He pulled back, slipped on specialized gloves and a pair of clear glasses then gestured in the air with his hands, and a holographic display appeared in front of him. Manipulating it, he opened different windows that displayed numerous security feeds and then mapped up the entire building, and he set to work on causing havoc in the systems to buy Vixen time to get to Ceras. At the same time, he searched the systems to find Ceras and guide Vixen there.

  Hearing Vixen’s voice in his ear, Lyston lifted his hand to his ear and nodded. “Power outage was me. I had to reboot the system to gain access.” He looked at one of the holographic screens hanging in the air, and he saw Vixen coming down a hall. He smirked. “Smile—I can see you.”

  Vixen looked around for cameras and spotted the one Lyston was using to watch her. She gave him a look but then moved on. “The security is probably aware of you now and will scour the building looking for you.”

  “As I would expect and hope, and that is why I have redirected the central point of the disruption to an altogether different section of the building. And don’t worry, if they do find me, I’m well-armed, and Aden’s here. Tobias too.” He glanced up to the door where Aden and Tobias stood guard—Tobias talking nonstop and Aden ignoring him and then finally giving him the ‘shut-up’ glare.

  “Where’s Kilroth?”

  “Where else?” Lyston resumed his work.

  Vixen sighed. “Trying to redeem his brother.”

  Lyston smiled. “Of course. Now, I am searching all systems for any trace of Ceras’s signature. Even if they deleted all footage of her within the building, they can’t erase her signature. Lorrek conjured a small tool to aid the process, and—”

  “Lorrek? Why would he help?”

  Lyston hesitated. He hadn’t given it much thought. When Vixen recruited him to hack the systems of the Guardian Program, he relished the chance to sharpen his technical skills, and Lorrek simply handed him a drive and said, “This will help. It will lead you right to her,” and then he walked away. Now Lyston had a sinking feeling, and he glanced up at Aden, who happened to glance back at that moment and catch his gaze.

  Aden nodded slowly. This too bode ill with him, but there was nothing they could do now. Everything was already in motion, so he cast his gaze back to the hall to keep watch.

  “Lyston!” Vixen’s voice yanked him out of his deep musing, and Lyston snapped back to the present and got back to work.

  “Right, well you know you can’t trust Lorrek, and he’s probably using this chance to lead you straight to him...” He frowned and stopped typing. “Maybe it’s a trap. Maybe it won’t lead to Ceras but just to Lorrek.”

  “I know Lorrek, Ly.” She paused at another camera and looked up at it to portray her confidence across to Lyston. “He is probably leading me straight to where he is, but he will be where Ceras is, and I can work with that.” She moved on.

  Aden—who listened to the whole conversation through his own earpiece—finally interjected. “Vix, I don’t like this. You should avoid this entire situation and let someone else get Ceras.”

  “I’m already on the move, Aden, and besides...” A smile filtered through her voice. “As long as you’re not there, I should be safe.”

  He frowned then realized what she meant. “I thought I already fulfilled the ‘prophesy’ by identifying you to Lorrek.” He cast Lyston a puzzled glance, but Lyston merely shrugged and focused on his work manipulating different systems. Tobias opened his mouth to voice his own opinion, but Aden lifted his hand, silencing him, and turned aside to better hear Vixen’s response which was laced with a smile.

  “Perhaps, but I’d rather not take my chances.” Vixen came to the end of a hall and looked both ways—uncertain which way to take. Hearing approaching footsteps, she pressed her back against the wall and waited. She held her breath then watched as the guards hastened past her without seeing her. She sighed. “Lyston, where are you with tracking Ceras?”

  “Right.” Lyston finished the final installation of the code from the drive then watched as a trail of light appeared on the screens—two trails of different colors. They meandered here and there in a very disorganized fashion, and Lyston frowned as he typed some keystrokes to eliminate all of Ceras’s previous wandering up to a certain point. “He must have given me a window into where Ceras’s been all this time, and she’s been everywhere. It’s hard to follow the trail.”

  “Don’t follow the trail. Just look all over the building for the brightest spot you can find.”

  Lyston pressed his lips into a thin line as he maneuvered the images of the building with his hands to locate the bright spot as Vixen had suggested. “When did you become so knowledgeable in magic?”

  “As you recall, Loroth had magic.”

  “Right. Got it! All right, what you have to do is...” He paused then leaned in closer to the image. It looked as if Ceras was at the end of a hallway. “Vix, move back three steps.”

  She furrowed her brows but moved as he had instructed. “All right, why?”

  Lyston saw the little light he had thought was Ceras move, and he frowned. “Never mind, that was you. Lorrek must have included your signature as well—probably to make it easier for me to guide you.”

  “Makes sense.” Vixen shrugged and glimpsed around uneasily. She didn’t like the thought that Lorrek could be around any corner, ready to end her life with a single thought. She hoped he would give her a chance to talk to him first. Maybe she could break through whatever was troubling him and help him realize he had no reason to kill her. Even if he still saw the need to kill her, she wanted to know why—what had she done to deserve death by his hand?

  The thought sent a shiver up her spine, and she shook it off and focused on the task at hand. “Where is she, Lyston?”

  “I’m looking.”

  “Vixen.” Another voice joined the voices in her head, and Vixen determined it to be Haiken. “Ardenn is with us.”

  She sighed in relief. “Good. One less thing to worry about.”

  “B
ut we’re being shipped out to the Guardian Games arena.”

  Vixen straightened when she heard this. She knew the arena for this specific Guardian Games was nothing more than a battlefield in Cuskelom. Her friends here in Jechorm were about to fight against those she considered family in Cuskelom. She brought her hand to her ear. “Haiken, you can’t go! Loroth was my husband, and Honroth was his cousin. Honroth is King of Cuskelom. If you fight against Cuskelom, I will not side with you.”

  Haiken’s chuckle resounded in her ear. “I have no intention to fight against the Cuskelians, my dear, but rather my friends and I shall do what we must to merely survive. We will safeguard Ardenn until you are able to retrieve her.”

  “Find Honroth on the field—or any officials of Cuskelom—and do what you must to prove your alliance with them! And if they have any questions...” Vixen unsheathed some blades and began to creep down the corridor. “Tell them ‘Vixen would be unhappy if you kill her friends,’ and everyone knows how dangerous I am when I am unhappy.”

  “I still have a scar on my hand from when she stabbed my hand after I stole one of her blades!” Lyston vouched over the comm.

  “Then I will keep that in mind.” Haiken nodded. “See you on the field.”

  “Be careful.”

  “You as well.”

  They didn’t say goodbye. Vixen never liked farewells. She preferred not to think of the true scale of events and focused on the task at hand. “Ly, where are you with Ceras?”

  “Just pinpointed her now.” He spread his fingers out to zoom out of the building on the screen, so he could compare Vixen’s location to Ceras’. “She’s in a sub-sub level. Take the nearest lift and go as far down as you can go. I’ll direct you from there.”

  “Sounds good.” With that, Vixen darted to the closest elevator and hit the ‘down’ button. The doors shut, and the elevator began to descend.

  24

  Pain. Darkness. Ceras kept her eyes squeezed shut because of the pain. Her hands felt as though they were on fire. Her fingers burned. The Jechorians tugged at her bloodied fingernail again—other fingernails had already been pulled off—and she screamed from pain and from rage. As an assassin, her specialty was poison, and she had invested much time, money, and energy to lace her fingernails with poison, so a single scratch would mark the end of her target’s life.