“Maybe this is a good time to tell us what is going on, Eve. How can you do your magic? Why did Elaka Nota experiment on you? Why do you know so much about this ship?” The questions had been spinning in my head for a while, but now we had seventeen days to talk about it.
We had set out to help people, but now millions of innocents were dead.
I was going to get some answers.
“Yes, I will tell you both everything. I will explain why Elaka Nota would kill millions of people to ensure that neither Persephone or I am known,” Eve said with a sigh, “but first, I recall that we have some leftover barbecue from Cynthia. What do you both think about sharing it while we speak?”
“I forgot about that,” Z said with almost no enthusiasm. “We are going to starve anyway. Let’s have one last meal before we don’t eat for half a month.”
“Yeah, let’s eat. Then talk, and then learn about Persephone,” I said as I rubbed my fingers across the leather of my chair.
Then we stood and walked to the galley.
End of Book 2
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Editing by Ginger Earle, Nick Kuhns, Diane Velasquez, Deborah Haggitt, Jacqueline Miles (who also edits my audio books), Debbie Elholm, Holly Lenz, Wanda Jewell, and Anthony DePaolo
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Copyright © 2017 by Michael-Scott Earle
Destroyer Book 1
Chapter 1-Kaiyer
When I dreamed, it was always of floating green islands. Slow waterfalls tumbled off the sides of rocky earth and disappeared into smoky blankets of mist and unpainted clouds. I jumped between the floating islands with a lazy, drifting bounce, somersaulting amid endless blue sky, punctured by the occasional flock of giant white birds.
In the far distance, sailing ships passed through the azure air like it was water. Often I attempted to reach these vessels, but even my greatest leaps fell short and left me to land on another lush island, conveniently placed to catch my fall. In this dream paradise I never noticed anything living besides the trees, birds, and the distant ships.
Perhaps it is wrong of me to say when I dreamed, as if I only did it sometimes.
I was always dreaming.
I had dreamed of islands for so long, I knew no other life. Then an awakening began. A soft, orange glow peeled back the colors of blue, green, brown, and white, like a sun rising in the morning. The light came from torches which lit the cavernous mausoleum where I had been kept. I don't remember smelling anything in my dreams, but as my crypt was illuminated, my nostrils filled with the aroma of dirt, dust, death, and terror.
Fear emanated from those who awoke me. The delicious scent of their terror filled the cavern like the light pouring from their torches, reflecting off the stone floor and around the group. The five stood twenty feet from me, three males and two females.
Closest to me was a boy with shaggy brown hair, freckles, and disheveled clothes covered with dirt. He held a leather-bound book, its pages and spine crumbling with wear only decades of use would beget. The boy's flesh almost matched the color of the clouds from my dreams, and his dilated pupils hid the true shade of his eyes. His heart raced like the staccato rush of a warhorse galloping down a rocky slope.
Behind the boy was a man holding a bow with an arrow notched and pointed at my face. His leather clothes were cut tight against his body and oiled to a soft shine. His long dark hair was tied back and his eyes were giant pools of blue. His hands shook as he struggled to keep from releasing the shaft he had pulled back. There seemed something familiar about the man, but my lethargic brain fought against any attempt to remember, and my eyes darted to the next member of the group.
To the left and five feet behind the man crouched an attractive woman who had recently passed her girlish years. Her thick dark brown hair was knotted up into a ponytail on the top of her head. She wore tight-fitting leather pants and a suede-patched green shirt. The clothes were covered in a fine layer of dirt, splotched with mud. She surely spent an abundant amount of time in the sun, her skin was almost the same shade as the dark patches of leather on her tunic. Her soft brown eyes gazed down the long sight of a heavy crossbow with determination, its unwavering barbed tip pointed at my sternum. The sound of her heartbeat might as well have been a soothing breeze of wind chimes when compared to the boy and archer.
I would have to kill her first.
Five feet behind the brown-haired beauty towered a large, grizzled man who carried a single-sided battle axe and a metal shield engraved with light purple etching. His chain mail hung about him, weightless as comfortable pajamas. He seemed ready for combat, but I tasted his fear like I sampled the dust and dirt in the air. His protective stance made me wonder whom he was blocking from my gaze. I focused behind him, and when my vision adjusted to the light I saw he stood in front of a beautiful girl. She peeped from behind the old man's shield at me with horror and disbelief.
The maiden had long blonde tresses cascading like white waves down to her lower back. A sudden memory of similar hair, but sun bright copper in color, ran through my thoughts and then disappeared before I could capture it. Her eyes were light blue, and her pale, creamy skin made me think of a cold drink of milk on a blistering day. She wore a fine looking purple tunic of crushed velvet and thick leather riding pants. Sparkles of gold at her ears and neck hinted at exquisite jewelry, but before I could focus on the glitter, the girl noticed my attention and ducked behind the big axe warrior.
The young boy said something, so I gently turned my gaze toward him to ensure the man and woman pointing weapons at me would not be startled. The boy stuttered out words I did not comprehend and I squinted at him in an effort to make my brain puzzle meaning from his language.
I sat on a long stone platform. The gray dais felt cold to the touch and it reminded me of the waterfalls that had been my companions for so long. I couldn’t remember anything
before the islands. Maybe I didn't want to recall memories from before those dreams.
The boy shuffled his feet and studied his book with intensity.
"Are . . . you . . . the O'Baarni?" he stuttered through a thick accent. The name filled me with memories. A handsome man with dark hair, graying at his temples. A massive battlefield, rivers of fresh blood streaming around countless bodies. Men, women, horses. The smell of flowers and the brief flash of thick copper hair. Mocking laughter.
A single scream of heart-rending agony.
"Are you, the O'Baarni?" he said again, glancing back and forth between his book and my face. I realized that I was clothed in a soft gray robe and my bare feet touched the cold stone of the cavern floor. Sudden energy pulsed through me like the tide of an ocean. A memory of power came to my head, but the sensation was more familiar than a fleeting recollection.
"I do not know," I said. My brain told my mouth to say the words and my lips obeyed reluctantly. Still, he seemed startled by my response. "I have been dreaming. Is this a dream too? Were you supposed to wake me?" The boy glanced down at his book and flipped through the pages with frantic speed.
The large old man barked something command-like, and the boy replied back in their foreign tongue. The skittish man with the bow shifted his feet, but he didn't concern me. I found my eyes focusing again on the dark-haired young woman with the barbed crossbow aimed at my chest. Our eyes met and I held her gaze. After a few moments she started to bite her lip, and her heart began to beat faster. She said something strained to the boy and I gave her a small smile.
"We . . . can . . . not sleep . . . you . . . O'Baarni?" he said with hopeful emotion in his eyes.
Exhaustion crashed into me after the boy asked his question. I wanted to go back to the island, but I fought against the sudden desire to lie again on the stone and drift away to sleep. Another memory struggled beneath a thin layer of emptiness, as if I might be close to recalling something once held sacred.
"I can't remember. What is your name?" I spoke gently, wishing that he would understand better.
"I am named Paug!" He couldn't help smiling with excitement, and I found myself mirroring his enthusiasm. The other four people watching our exchange relaxed somewhat and I guessed that they meant me no harm.
"What are your friends named?" I figured an introduction would keep the woman from putting a hole through the important part of my chest.
He pointed behind him to the man with the bow.
"His name is Iarin." The man seemed startled to be introduced to me and managed a ghost of a smile.
"Her name is Nadea." The woman with the crossbow nodded but didn't lower her weapon.
"His name is Greykin," he said, pointing at the old warrior. Greykin also nodded before clearing his throat and spitting.
"She is Jessmei." The beautiful girl smiled at me and raised her right hand, then brushed the loose yellow hair back over her ear.
"What is your name?" the boy asked me after he had introduced his friends.
I considered the language barrier before answering.
"I don't remember." I tapped two fingers to my temple and shook my head. Paug flipped through his book again and smiled in satisfaction once he seemed to figure out what I had said.
"Do you . . . know . . . sleep . . . years?" he asked.
"It feels like a long time. Many years," I whispered while he flipped through his book. He nodded once I spoke but didn't look up from the pages.
"Do you have . . . hunger? Want food?" he read from the book and then looked at me afterward with an infectious smile.
I didn't feel hungry, but I thought I might get them all to relax if I ate in front of them.
"Yes," I said, and nodded.
The girl in the back yelled something, and she made her way toward a pile of equipment twenty feet behind her. The old man barked disapprovingly at her, but she had already moved outside his reach. He glanced back to me as my eyes followed her. I moved my gaze to the man with the bow, Iarin. His arms were shaking from holding the arrow taut for so long. The woman Nadea also appeared tired from pointing the large crossbow at me.
"Iarin and Nadea should lower their weapons. I mean no harm," I said to Paug. He flipped through his old book, but before he found the translation I made the shape of holding a bow with my arms and lowered it. He smiled and turned to tell Iarin, but the tall man had already lowered his weapon. Greykin made a sharp remark, but Iarin shrugged his shoulders and grinned back at me. Nadea replied to the axe man before lowering her own weapon. Jessmei walked past with a hunk of bread, yellow cheese, and a small piece of meat.
She studied me intently as she walked up to Paug. Greykin yelled out something, causing the blonde girl to open her mouth wide and look at me in fear. She handed the food to Paug before fleeing back behind the safety of the large man.
"Food . . . you," Paug said proudly, not needing to consult his book. He held out the bread, cheese, and meat to me, but he didn't move toward me.
I leaned forward off the stone platform and pushed myself to my feet. As I stood, the euphoric energy of the stone ground coursed through me. My blood burned, awakened and on fire. A metallic sensation filled my mouth, and the cavern spun dramatically. The orange light faded to gray. Nadea yelled, and before my vision faded to black, I saw Paug's horrified facial expression enlarge and distort.
Coolness rubbed against my face as my field of vision spread back from nothingness. I was lying on the stone platform bed. Nadea was applying a cool, wet cloth to my face and lips while Paug hovered on the other side of the dais and rested his palms on my chest.
"You fall down," Paug said, without his book. He looked concerned that I had fainted, but also carried an excited smile on his round face.
"Thirsty. Water," I said as I moved my hand up to touch the cloth Nadea held.
"Yes!" Paug said. He disappeared from my field of vision, and I heard his booted feet rush to their pile of equipment.
Nadea continued to caress my face with the cool rag. She whispered soft alien words I couldn't understand, but her relaxing movements helped me close my eyes and hear the familiar sounds of birds and water. A metal cup pushed against my lips and I sat up, with the aid of a few hands on my arms, and was able to drink. I opened my eyes and saw Paug's companions gathered around me, and I wondered why they were so interested in me drinking. The water burned down my throat like fire. It gave me power that felt like the stone on my feet. I startled, recalling another memory from before my dream. Laughter of friends, food, and water enjoyed with company. The sensation was wonderful.
Paug's cherub face split into a grin when he saw me enjoying the water. It wasn't entirely the pleasure of my thirst being quenched that satisfied me. The water seemed to be magical and was pushing back my fatigue.
"More please," I said, after I had drained the cup. Nadea sat next to me on the stone bed. She handed me a half-full water skin and I drank deeply. A bit of the water dribbled down my face onto my robe. Again I experienced the surge of fire burning inside me. I heard all of their hearts beating and the sound of the air leaving their lungs in the still silence of the mausoleum.
My vision cut through the darkness now like a sharp sword. The crypt was spherical, about six hundred feet in diameter. The pedestal I had been resting upon was in the center of the room. Across the massive dome I made out a small tunnel carved into the wall. The ceiling of the dome was smooth, like the perfectly chiseled floor. It must not have been cut by hand. My guess was that the cavern had been created with powerful magic.
"More?" Paug asked as I shook the empty skin. I nodded, and Nadea had a full one in my hands within seconds. I drank this as urgently as the first, and relished the strength that flowed through me.
"Food?" Paug sat next to me now on the stone platform and handed me a chunk of bread. I carefully took it from him, pulled off a small piece, and put it in my mouth. The bread was hard, so I had to chew many times before swallowing. My audience breathlessly watche
d every bite, but didn't seem to be afraid of me anymore.
"I am quite a source of entertainment, aren't I?" I said to Paug with a half-smile. He looked confused and then grabbed his book to attempt a translation. Greykin stood ten feet behind the boy, between Jessmei and me. He said something to Paug and the others erupted in laughter. Paug's face turned red with what I assumed was embarrassment. He said something in an apologetic tone before flipping through his book.
"No . . . you need food. You are not strong," he said. I nodded and he turned to smirk in Greykin's direction.
Within five minutes, the bread had been consumed and I tried a small bite of the cheese. It was so delicious that I had to force myself to eat slowly. The pangs of hunger ripped through my stomach now that I had eaten, and I wondered how much time had passed since food had last been in it. The meat was salted and bitter. Perhaps the beef was on its way to going bad, but I still enjoyed the complex flavor, even if each small bite forced me to drink a mouthful of water afterward.
When I finished eating, exhaustion crashed into my body again. Meeting Paug and his friends had been a nice recess from the floating islands, but now I wanted to return. My ears missed the sounds of the waterfalls and the large white birds. My body missed the sensation of leaping through the blue sky.
"I need to sleep again. I am tired," Paug nodded at first, but once he understood what I meant he shook his head.
"No sleep. We . . . go," he said. I ignored him and slid my body behind him to curl up on the stone bed. My legs brushed up against Nadea's as she moved out of the way.
"No. No. We go!" Paug said as the other voices began an angry retort. Their disappointment didn't matter though. The warm darkness began to close in on me. The stone felt familiar on the back of my skull, and the angry voices became like the murmuring of the distant ocean or the hum of a lover's satisfaction.
Space Witch: A Paranormal Space Opera Adventure (Star Justice Book 2) Page 21
