“Damn you all,” Indrid said. He mounted his horse and rode off.
Rayne Volpi walked with the old wizard through the ruins of Illyrium. Since the channeling, he slowly recalled his true identity as the king of Men. But not only did his boyhood flash before him—both the despair of being laughed at by other children, of being neglected by a careless father all because of his physical differences; and the joy of family, the love of his caretakers, Montague and Gretchen, and stepsiblings—he also remembered experiences beyond this life, beyond physicality.
Out of all five realms, he remembered why he had come here, to this planet; to help his eternal friend, Burton Lang, liberate a civilization from false gods.
Rayne watched Anna sitting alone on the remains of the retaining wall of Illyrium’s garden, admiring her beauty. Anna’s long golden locks were braided back in a tie. She was beyond stunning, blinding to Rayne’s eyes. And her voice was a perfect symphony of seduction with every word that flowed from her lips.
“I can’t tell her that I won’t see her again,” Rayne said to Burton. “Is it all right to lie if it is meant to spare someone pain for the moment?” It was a long time since Rayne had led a human life before this one. He needed to be reminded of the ethics of truth telling. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Anna. He couldn’t tell her that he would be leaving this world again after recently reuniting with her.
“You don’t need to come with me, you know,” said Burton. “Once Montague makes the connection, I can handle the rest. I just need you to get him to Demitri. No one else can touch the marble.”
“Before I incarnated I knew what was expected of me,” Rayne said. As much as it hurt to think of leaving Anna again he knew that he had to go with Burton to crash the Nekrum ship. Burton had called to him for help for a reason. And Rayne couldn’t let him carry all the weight. What if Burton, a dying, old man, failed? This was Rayne’s duty—his mission. “This world is more important than either of us. And I’m ready to die for it. I’m ready to die for her.”
“Things change,” said Burton. “You want to set things right? Maybe dying for her isn’t the answer. Why not live for her instead?”
“I have to face him again. I need to.”
“Who?”
Rayne looked at him. “Him,” he said. Burton, of all angels, should know who he meant. He was referring to the entity responsible for all of Planet Naan’s pain.
They called the Nekrum mastermind, Loche.
UNDER A canopy made from the remnants of the Illyrium flag’s torn fabric, Anna Lott sat against a wall of the crippled garden and sketched a picture of the two wizards walking in the street with their hands crossed behind their backs.
Everything that had happened recently changed her: finding her mother at the Mern city and the ceremony that she had been involved in to bring Rayne back into the world of the living. Her knowledge of magic and fairy tales was no longer limited to books and stories. She was now a participant and witness to mythical truths.
Their black and maroon cloaks rounded the old garden fountain several times before Burton separated from the briefing and approached her.
“Only a strong emotional attachment can keep him in this world, my dear. Intimacy often helps,” Burton said. He smiled then winked before walking off.
Rayne stood like a shadow before her. Their eyes met, and she got lost within his infinite stare. This time, he recognized her. She saw the emotion in his eyes—the love. When he smiled, it warmed her from the inside. At that moment, she knew that she was madly in love with the king of Men, her stepbrother, Rayne Volpi, descendent of the creator and an angel of heaven. Under the hood of his black cloak, his hair was the same, long and dark, and his skin was just as silky and gray as Anna remembered. At only ten years old, he looked like an adult.
Rayne came under her makeshift canopy and sat next to her. She craved his touch, wanting to taste his lips. But he seemed timid.
Hoping to relax him, Anna placed her palm over his hand. “I’ve missed you so much. Burton told me what happened to you and what those men did to you. I’m so sorry,” Anna stuttered. “Where did you go when you died?”
“Nowhere,” Rayne said. “And everywhere. It’s even hard for me to understand. At first I felt helpless, like I was trapped behind the world’s mirror. I could see, but I couldn’t touch. I roamed the land like the clouds above.” He looked at her. “Now, I can see everything. I can see moments from multiple angles, like I am not one, but many. I can even see people’s thoughts and feel their feelings if I wanted to.”
Anna inched closer. She slid her hand from his and rested it on his leg. “Can you see my feelings?”
“I haven’t looked. I wouldn’t invade my lady’s privacy.”
“Well, you should.” Anna wanted him to. Then he would know her love for him. “What does it feel like on the other side?”
“Lighter…like a vibration,” he said. “Free.”
“A vibration?”
“Yes,” said Rayne.
The urge to touch his body, his skin, became unbearable. And she wanted to experience the sensation for herself. “Show me,” said Anna.
Rayne leaned in. Anna closed her eyes. And at the moment their lips touched, Anna felt her body become weightless. The material world around her dissolved as if lost in a dream. Within feathered wings, he caressed her as their tongues danced between interlocking lips. Even his cloak touched her and rubbed her, feeling the curves of her body. They made love over and over, floating through the seas of space and time for what felt like days, weeks. She wished that they would never come back. If only they could stay there, in that timeless moment of twilight, together.
The evening behind the veil burned with exhausting passion. Rayne made love to her not only with his body, but with his heart.
From this vantage, Anna saw her world from a higher perspective; higher than the highest mountain. It was just as Montague once told her: ‘Truth can be found at the top of your own mountain.’ He’d told her that real truth cannot be read or told. It can only be witnessed. And from that bird’s-eye-view, Anna saw the bringers of death coming. They would reach Illyrium by the darkest night of the year, when both moons aligned and their opposing light cancelled each other out, leaving an hour of lightless sky. The surface of the river would appear ash-black without a single reflection. The Merns called it Water’s Night.
Burton Lang had sent a letter to Demitri days ago, informing him that the newly revived Resistance, consisting of both Ikarus and Graleon soldiers, would not bow to a tyrannical king. Although no one knew where Indrid rode off, he made sure to include that the count of Grale had refused his offer to deliver Burton to him. Montague had signed his name as well. It was the perfect bait. Since Demitri couldn’t translate Gabriel’s Dairy, he needed Montague or Burton to do it for him. For all the Nekrums knew, the ‘Volpi’ gene could be within anyone on the planet. Demitri would have no other choice but to come to them at the ruins of Illyrium. And he didn’t know that Rayne, an entity of the higher dimensions, had been awakened.
The Resistance waited days for a response. It was now the fourth night—Water’s Night—and it grew late. The stars were hidden behind a thick cloudy sky.
For hours, Sir Simon Atikan paced along the river’s shore staring across the flowing water. His focus was undivided. Burton’s son would be the first to notice Demitri’s fleet approaching. The knight’s discipline and dedication to his mission was unmatched.
As Anna and Rayne walked out of the makeshift canopy she held his arm and rested her head on his chest. Burton could tell that she never wanted to let go. But it was too dangerous for her to be exposed to the events that were about to take place.
“You’ve done wonderful, my dear,” said Burton. “Now, you must lead everyone to the Illyrium castle and barricade the doors.”
Anna looked to Rayne.
Rayne nodded. “Go.”
Before running off, Anna pressed her lips onto his for a long momen
t. “I love you,” she said to him wholeheartedly.
Burton was touched. This life had taught him more about human emotion than any other. He recognized the power of affection and the depth at which it could bond people. Now, after finding his son, the angel felt again this thing people called love.
Rayne followed Burton and joined Montague by a small fire set about a hundred yards away from the shores that the enemy would be landing. That was, if the Merns failed to sink Demitri’s fleet before they reached the shore.
“If the Merns succeed Glassinger agreed to bring Demitri to the shore,” said Burton. Freed from the confinement spell, he was once again in telepathic connection to the Mern city. “This is the end. Once Montague takes the marble, we can break the quarantine and crash the Nekrum mothership. Its passengers will be judged by divine council.” He huffed.
“I’m going to stay here,” Rayne said.
Burton smiled. “Of course you are.” He was glad that Rayne had changed his mind. “Love is what people live for. Start a new life with Anna. You didn’t get to finish the last one together.”
“Are you sure that you are strong enough to do this alone?” asked Rayne.
“I’m sure. Besides, the people will need you here to protect them. Planet Naan isn’t as advanced as the other realms.”
“You can always come back; reincarnate,” said Rayne. “When the quarantine is broken, I won’t have to remind you of who you are. The Nekrums will be gone.”
Montague chimed in. “You must not harm Demitri. The real Demitri, my friend, has nothing to do with this. Promise me.”
“I wouldn’t dare hurt Demitri. He is my friend as well. The future of this civilization needs him,” Burton said.
“You have my word,” said Rayne.
The hour without moonlight had come. Sir Simon stopped pacing along the river shore. He lit a torch and held it high.
In the distance, Burton could now see the shadows of long masts through the fog like a forest on the water. The ships sailed north, against the river’s current. Demitri’s armada was now in the middle of the river, at its deepest point; a perfect opportunity for the Merns to make their moves.
For a moment there was a strange silence—no wind, no chirping of crickets—even the river’s current seemed to stop completely. In the stillness, Burton could feel the coming chaos. As the enemy grew closer, the mist above the water’s surface crawled upon the pebble shore like an amphibious creature. Sir Simon unsheathed his sword. His soldiers assembled.
The river began to glow. The light was so bright it even lit the gloomy sky.
When Burton heard the sounds of high frequency clicking and whistling, he knew that, along with the Merns, a pod of backfin whales had arrived. They were the largest and smartest whales on the planet, even capable of understanding human sign language. Weighing over forty tons each they used thick skull domes to crash into the hulls of the ships, sinking them one by one.
An army of aquatic humans and sea creatures followed, attacking the dark fleet from the river’s depth. Schools of waterbirds circled the ships in unison, creating massive whirlpools that swallowed them whole.
Soldiers of the new Resistance began cheering. But Burton knew that it was too early to claim victory. “Save your celebration,” he said sternly. “It’s not over.”
The lights in the river dimmed. Three dark ships burst through the ambush before the Merns could take them down. The largest of the fleet, secured with a thick steel bottom, sailed into the Origon River’s pebble shore at full speed, digging deep into rock and clay. Its momentum drove all three ships, fifty feet into land, nearly toppling before they stopped. The collision caused the largest ship’s prow to shatter. Its bowsprit had snapped in half. The only extending spar left standing upright was an empty crow’s nest.
The old wizard anticipated Demitri’s army to be made of hybrids. He’d seen what the Nekrums could create. Their sciences were superior to all realms. To many, they were considered the gods of technology. They even had the technology to annihilate an angel. But they couldn’t use it. The weapon would split a world in half. And they needed to find the Volpi gene first.
Suddenly, locust-like creatures that resembled the stone gargoyles of the temple smashed out from the smaller ship’s bow and took flight. Except these gargoyles weren’t statues; they were alive with tags clipped into the bulbs of their long ears. Cuffs with broken chains hung from their wrists and ankles. Burton thought they must be a cross between a man and some sort of flying insect or even a lizard. He couldn’t tell. Along with having dragon-like wings and exoskeletons, there was something eerily human about their faces. They swarmed above the ships, waiting for their lord master’s orders.
Below, ramps across the ships’ sterns extended. More creatures, ones that looked half-wolf and half-man, ran out on four legs down the planks and onto the shore, barking and growling. Bulbous thighs and wide chests stretched through the fibers of their torn tunics. The little human that was left in them was surely submissive. Even expecting the worst, Burton couldn’t believe what Demitri had created. The anatomy of beasts and men that Demitri had spliced together shouldn’t have been biologically possible to function. But the hybrids were animated and conscious.
Burton felt a profound pity for the human victims, taken from their families, never to return; if they did, they would never be the same. He was aware that Demitri had rounded up bastard children, searching relentlessly for the Volpi gene within their blood, while he was part of the Ikarus council. Were these monsters mere children that have been turned into beasts? he wondered.
The mages and what was left of the dead elders exited the ships and merged with the army of monsters. Without swords or shields they packed their weapons, small pouches of deadly powders and sharpened bones, in deep pockets. Without carrying heavy steel to weigh them down, the mages had an advantage. At the frontline, they sat upon konganroo and waited for their master’s introduction.
Loud cracking noises bellowed from the largest ship. It sounded like something from inside was trying to break out. The entire main deck started to bend up and down before the wood completely shattered. Long, hairy legs poked out of the hole where a colossal beast emerged from the shadows, snapping its two claws. It had the body and legs of a spider with the claws and tail of a scorpion. Its hide was as thick as an alligator’s. And it was as big as a house. It was a monster in every sense of the word. Its stinger, raised high above its body, dripped a foamy liquid. And Demitri Von Cobb sat atop the rim of its head, strapped with a leather saddle, riding it. Draped across his lap was a lengthy sack that he began to untie. When he unfolded the fabric, there was a mermaid shining with reflective skin. Demitri lifted her up by the neck to display, then threw the maiden’s lifeless body to the ground. It was Glassinger Lott. Burton knew it. But he couldn’t tell if she was alive or not. The scales of her tail were already dried.
Demitri’s army of creatures roared. The dead elders unlocked the lower cabin of the ship and rolled out catapults. They loaded the buckets with large, leafy sacks covered in mud.
“Ghords!” yelled Simon. “They’re launching ghords.”
Montague drew his sword. Burton stepped in front of him and readied his wand. He knew it would be the last time he would hold Vandagelle.
Rayne proceeded ahead, alone in the open field. From his lead, he signaled Burton and the rest to stop where they were. His feathered wings extended. Rayne raised his hands that were wrapped tightly with black gauze from his wrists up to his knuckles. Bolts of plasma erupted from his palms and into the sky. Then, he clinched his fists and thrust his hands forward, sending a transparent wave of energy into the incoming werewolves and mages. The shockwave hurled the monsters backwards, disabling a great number of the enemy’s frontline. Rayne’s gray skin reminded Burton of the power that flowed through his veins, a power second to none.
A cloud of dust smothered the battlefield.
Before the air could clear, the clicking of catapu
lts launching in the distance rang loud. The payloads flew through the smoky sky. When the sticky sacks hit the ground, they bounced and rolled, rather than crumbling like stones or exploding like barrels of oil. The leaves of the sacks unfurled into the man-eating plants known as ghords.
The ghords had landed far beyond where Rayne stood, but the men of the Resistance raced forward and hacked at the snapping plants.
Burton could hear Demitri shouting to his army. “Now, while they are distracted!”
The swarming gargoyles gathered and flew at the Resistance.
Rayne’s body lit up like a firefly. He dashed into the night sky after the flying creatures, firing bursts of liquid light that exploded on impact. His targets were burned through. Dozens of exoskeletal bodies began to fall, snapping and cracking against the hard earth. But swarms still managed to dodge Rayne’s blasts. When they flew into him, they crashed like they hit an energetic wall; their bodies twisted as if instantly paralyzed before they too fell.
Demitri whistled, signaling the remaining passengers to exit the ship. Out of the hole that his hybrid monster had made in the largest vessel came thousands of spiders the size of Labradors. The spiders amassed and scurried onto shore, through the sea of mages, and toward Illyrium like a wave of death. There was no way the Resistance could stop them all, Burton thought. It would be a massacre—men would be eaten alive.
Then, a deep roar howled from the west of Illyrium, behind the Resistance. Burton feared that the enemy had surrounded them. But when he looked back, an army of trolls emerged from the ruins of Illyrium and came storming past him and the soldiers of the Resistance by the hundreds, straight into the open battlefield. The trolls wore shiny, razor-sharp armor that sliced the spider’s legs and through their bodies when they rolled into them. Some climbed into the ghords’ mouths, down the plants’ stems and exploded out from the sack of their slug-like bodies after intentionally being swallowed.
Under a Veil of Gods Page 26
